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Chapter: 34
Sylphid lifted his chin and replied.
[Yes. I don’t understand it. You’re ending your revenge here, of all places? If a human draws a sword, they should at least cut something down! How can you act so weak?]
Sylphid’s scolding expression was so ridiculous that I almost answered, Yes, sure, let’s do that.
But this really was where it had to end for now.
“I’m not saying I won’t do anything at all. I’m just saying I’ll stop here for now. There are too many people around. One wrong move and I could get exposed.”
What had started as a dozen onlookers had now grown into several dozen. The more eyes there were, the more dangerous it became—one slip and everyone would know I was responsible.
Revenge is only perfect when no one knows about it.
I decided to save the rest for later. Unless Count Avita suddenly dropped dead tomorrow, I still had plenty of time.
“Anyway, thank you, Sylphid. You can go now.”
[Go?]
Sylphid echoed incredulously.
[So now that you’ve seen everything you wanted, I’m no longer needed? You truly are a heartless contractor.]
“…Is there something you want?”
[Cough! W-Want? What I want?]
Just like this morning—once I actually gave him an opening, he froze.
“Say it. If it’s something I can do, I’ll do it.”
[Th-That is…]
Sylphid fidgeted with his fingers, his cheeks flushing red.
A grown man twisting around in embarrassment should have been uncomfortable to watch, but his beauty was so far beyond human standards that I couldn’t even bring myself to react.
Even like that, he’s still handsome.
As I quietly admired his face, Sylphid hesitated for a moment, then suddenly shouted—
[Enough!]
—and vanished.
“…What?”
What was that about?
Puzzled by Sylphid’s incomprehensible behavior, I started thinking.
Do I need to read a book on spirit ecology or something? Like “There Are No Bad Spirits in the World.” …But does a book like that even exist?
I decided I might as well visit a nearby library someday. As I looked out over the garden beyond the terrace—
Did our eyes just meet?
I had the strange sensation that someone sitting atop a large tree at some distance had made eye contact with me.
…Wait. A tree?
I rubbed my eyes, thinking I must be mistaken, but the same image kept appearing.
On a thick branch of a massive tree—about as high as the third floor of a building—sat a man who looked to be an adult.
He had one knee raised, his chin resting on it, staring straight at me.
Was I imagining things?
Of course I am. There’s no way he could see me from that far away.
But the moment the man on the tree waved directly at me, a chill ran down my spine.
“W-What the hell?!”
I immediately crouched down.
Lowering myself as much as possible so not even the tip of my head would show, I tapped my racing chest, trying to calm myself.
“Did he see me? He saw me, right?”
If he did—how much did he see?
“He didn’t notice anything strange, right? I even summoned Sylphid carefully so no one would see…”
But if, by some chance, he knew about Sylphid—or about Count Avita’s accident—things would get complicated.
“Not knowing who he is is a problem. Does he know who I am?”
In a confrontation, knowing only one side is disastrous. If the enemy knows me, they can plan around it—but if I don’t even know who they are, I’ll inevitably walk straight into their trap.
“…I should leave.”
Moving quietly, I drew the curtains and slipped outside, desperately hoping the man in the tree didn’t know who I was.
✦ ✦ ✦
Even though the star of the night—the Crown Prince—had yet to arrive, the ballroom was already buzzing with a subdued heat.
What should I do now?
First, I looked for Cedric and Aylin, who had come with me.
Nope. Definitely can’t go over there.
They were completely surrounded.
Cedric dealt with people using his usual stiff, expressionless face, while Aylin smiled brightly, as though her facial muscles would never get tired. Still, both of them looked equally exhausted.
If I step in there, people will swarm me too.
Even without that, plenty of people were already looking for chances to approach me.
And no, that was absolutely not a good thing.
Don’t come. Don’t. Don’t you dare.
A silent battle of wits unfolded between me and the nobles inching closer, each of us carefully avoiding eye contact.
If our eyes meet even by accident, it’s over.
Vowing never to attend an event like this again, I stared fiercely into empty space. Just as my eyes started to sting and water, someone spoke.
“Lady Silvia Atlante.”
I should answer, right? …Or could I just pretend I didn’t hear?
As I hesitated, a servant standing near the entrance came to my rescue.
“His Imperial Highness the Crown Prince is entering!”
The noble who had spoken to me immediately turned to bow toward the Crown Prince entering the hall.
I followed suit, bowing, and quietly slipped away from the noble.
By then, the Crown Prince had already reached his place, striding confidently to the chair on the central dais. Standing before it, he spoke.
“Everyone, rise.”
The nobles who had bent their backs straightened.
The Crown Prince swept his gaze calmly over the crowd below the dais and offered a brief greeting—thanking them for coming despite their busy schedules and wishing them an enjoyable evening.
I’ve seen his face. I can go home now, right?
Ah—no. Not yet.
At a coming-of-age ball, it’s tradition for all invitees to witness the birthday honoree’s first dance.
Once that was over, I could leave.
Did the Crown Prince dance with Aylin at this point?
In Silvia’s memories, he had.
At the time, Silvia had still been confined and unable to attend the ball, but the dance became so famous that even she heard about it.
That dance must’ve been what led to their engagement.
I didn’t know all the details, but there was a reason I thought so.
After that night, the Crown Prince began visiting the Duke of Atlante’s residence to see Aylin.
Whenever the Crown Prince returned to the capital from the northern front where he was suppressing monsters, he stopped by the Atlante estate—for Aylin’s sake.
As they continued meeting, they grew closer, and eventually became engaged.
That was all Silvia knew.
They met, became entangled in one way or another, and eventually ended up engaged.
This is a historic moment, in its own way. I should watch it properly.
Of course, the moment their dance ended, I planned to leave without a shred of regret.
The Crown Prince descended from the dais to choose his partner for the first dance.
As he moved, unmarried noble ladies quickly shifted positions, adjusting their posture and attire to catch his eye.
With no fiancée yet, the unmarried Crown Prince represented hope—the chance to become the future Crown Princess.
Though in the end, it’ll be Aylin.
Starting tonight, their relationship would surely grow more intriguing.
Originally, Silvia played the role of the inconvenient obstacle that pushed them closer together—but I had no intention of living that way.
I was busy enough living my own life. Why should I wedge myself between a happy couple and collect insults for it?
Hurry up and ask her to dance already.
I’ll even bless you for it!
Perhaps my fervent wish worked, because the Crown Prince finally stopped.
“Silvia Atlante. Will you grant me the honor of this dance?”
Contrary to memory, the Crown Prince did not choose Aylin.
Wait—who is Silvia Atlante? Why did he suddenly change partners?
“Lady?”
Hold on. Silvia Atlante was—
Me.
I slowly lifted my head.
The Crown Prince stood before me, extending his hand.
Golden hair glittering beneath the chandelier.
Ruby-like red eyes, lips as red as though painted with blood.
Skin so pale it looked almost translucent, lending him an eerily beautiful air.
The man before me was unmistakably the Crown Prince I remembered.
“Well?”
And unless my eyes and ears were deceiving me, the person he had asked to dance wasn’t Aylin—
Why me?
As I stood frozen, the Crown Prince curved his lips into his characteristic smile.
A smile that looked like a smile, yet somehow wasn’t.
It practically said, Why don’t you hurry up and take my hand?
The moment I caught the meaning behind it, I snapped back to my senses.
All at once, sounds I hadn’t noticed before flooded in.
Most of them were whispering about why the Crown Prince had asked me to dance three times—and why I hadn’t accepted yet, forcing him to ask again.
They all assume I’ll accept.
And honestly, it wasn’t an unreasonable assumption.
This wasn’t wordplay—it was reality.
At a coming-of-age ball, the first dance was traditionally never refused.
Refusing it was such an unforgivable breach of etiquette that one could be ostracized from high society for life. Though not written into law, everyone knew and obeyed this unspoken rule.
But… do I really have to follow it?
