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Chapter 39
The Spring Banquet (2)
The grand doors of the ballroom opened, and the first thing to greet Wiltièra was the magnificent chandelier hanging from the ceiling.
It glimmered above them, suspended from the very highest point, dazzlingly ornate.
Berenice let out a quiet gasp as she took in its splendor.
So this is what it’s like.
She had never seen such a sight before, and the realization sent a chill over her entire body.
She hadn’t expected to feel the difference between past and present so strongly—just from something like this.
Yes… things have changed. They really have changed.
That thought brought her a strange, firm sense of reassurance. What she was doing—her choices, her path—was not wrong.
Next to her, Lowell let out a similar sound of awe.
The children born into the grand houses of marquesses, heirs to wealthy merchant families who had seen nearly as much splendor as royalty, were still struck speechless by the sight.
There was no need to imagine how the younger nobles from lesser houses must have reacted—it was written on every face.
Even after some time had passed since the guests had entered, many of the young nobles still couldn’t tear their eyes away from the chandelier.
“Your jaw’s about to fall off,” Lowell muttered.
“You might want to wipe the drool off your chin,” Berenice shot back.
“I wasn’t drooling.”
“Iona must be blind to like someone as childish as you.”
“Are you insulting my fiancée?”
“No, I’m insulting you.”
“Hey!”
The marchioness sighed as she watched the twins bicker, the same way they always had.
Berenice might have grown more composed since the funeral, but when she was with Lowell, she reverted to her childhood self completely—as if time had never passed at all.
I can’t tell if that’s a good thing or not…
The marchioness quietly swallowed a sigh.
Were those two born just to fight each other?
Even though they were both her children, she couldn’t stop wondering that sometimes.
If her husband had heard her thoughts, he probably would have told her to stop worrying—since she’d be stuck pondering it for the rest of her life.
Wisely pretending not to notice the twins’ constant squabbling, the marchioness turned her gaze toward the inner part of the ballroom.
She noticed a few nobles staring in awe—not at the chandelier, but at her twins.
Well, they are beautiful, aren’t they?
They say even a hedgehog finds its own babies adorable, don’t they?
Her children were far from prickly—unlike hedgehogs—and at Bledin’s coming-of-age ceremony, they had drawn the same admiring glances. It was only natural to feel proud.
Bledin must have looked the same way then, too…
As she thought of her late son, a wave of grief she had pushed aside while preparing for the banquet washed over her. She quickly lifted her fan to hide the lower half of her face and lowered her gaze.
“Are you all right, my dear?” the marquis asked gently.
“I think I’m just dizzy—it’s been so long since I’ve been around this many people.”
The marquis could read the sorrow in his wife’s eyes. He knew she was lying, but he nodded anyway.
“Let’s go out to the terrace for some air.”
“Thank you.”
He turned to the twins. “You two—try not to make a scene before the banquet begins.”
An impossible request, of course.
He knew it, but he also knew that since he’d said it aloud, the twins would at least try to behave.
That much effort would probably be enough to keep disaster at bay while he was gone.
Probably.
With that thought, the marquis led his wife toward the terrace.
Once the couple had left, the twins, who had been looking elsewhere, turned to each other.
Lowell spoke first.
“You sure you’re okay being here? Everyone’s watching.”
“Because of the broken engagement?”
“That’s part of it, but…”
Berenice noticed his glance flick toward her white hair and smiled faintly.
“It’s fine. Everyone already knows what happened. Pretending to care now would be pointless.”
“Good.”
“What about you?”
“Me?”
“Shouldn’t you go see Iona?”
Berenice waved lightly to Iona, who stood with her family a short distance away.
Lowell, watching her quietly, replied in his usual calm tone, “Iona will understand.”
“Don’t tell me you’re staying because you think I’ll be lonely?”
“I’m staying because if I leave you alone, you’ll probably cause trouble.”
“You’re the one who causes trouble.”
“Nonsense.”
“No, that word describes exactly what you’re saying.”
At first, there had been concern and affection in their voices. Now, the twins were back to growling at each other.
“I’m fine, really. Go.”
“…”
“I mean it. Besides, you should go greet Count Graham—he came all the way on the first day of the funeral.”
“…If anything happens, call for me right away.”
“I will.”
And just like always, their bickering turned back into mutual care.
Berenice smiled faintly as she watched Lowell walk toward his fiancée, glancing back at her every few steps.
He’ll probably make his move soon.
She had another reason for sending him away.
Someone was watching her from afar.
A predatory gaze—like a wolf waiting for its chance.
Nion.
I thought so. How shameless.
She had suspected this might happen ever since Count Blaize had begged them not to make the annulment public.
Now, as Nion began walking toward her, she could easily guess his intent.
He’s going to beg to start over.
Since the annulment hadn’t been officially announced, he must have thought they could simply resume their engagement.
From Blaize’s standpoint, the alliance with Wiltièra was too valuable to lose.
And Nion… Nion was the kind of man who believed he could manipulate any woman to his liking.
Once, when she hadn’t known better, Berenice had even thought that confidence was one of his charms.
Now, it only disgusted her.
She wasn’t the only one to notice his approach.
Even while chatting with Count Graham, Lowell’s eyes never left his sister—and he immediately started toward her. But Berenice stopped him with a small gesture.
There was something she needed to do—right here, right now.
“It’s been a while, Berenice,” Nion greeted her smoothly.
“Are we close enough for you to call me by name, Viscount?” she replied coolly.
“Weren’t we always on a first-name basis?”
He tried to speak as if nothing had happened between them, but Berenice was not about to let that pass.
“That was when there was an engagement between us. There isn’t anymore.”
The nearby guests began to hush. Remembering the earlier commotion involving the two of them, they turned their attention toward the conversation. Some even drifted subtly closer to hear better.
Feigning ignorance of the attention, Berenice raised her fan to cover her mouth and fixed Nion with a sharp gaze.
“The actress has returned to her hometown, I hear.”
“So what?”
“It means there’s nothing left between us to cause trouble.”
Thank goodness Mother isn’t here right now, Berenice thought grimly.
If the marchioness had been present to hear Nion’s brazen tone, he likely wouldn’t have left the ballroom in one piece.
He clearly knew that, which was probably why he’d waited to approach Berenice when she was alone.
“Do you even realize what you’re saying right now?” she asked, voice cold.
“Did I say something strange?”
Not just shameless—he’s insane.
His expression was so calm, so self-assured, that it could only come from someone who truly believed his own delusion.
Even though she’d expected him to behave this way, Berenice was momentarily at a loss for words. Nion took that silence as encouragement and stepped closer with a smug smile.
“Before, our relationship was bound only by a formal engagement. That’s why we lacked real emotion between us. But now, since you’re an adult… shouldn’t we form a deeper, more intimate bond?”
A wave of disgust surged up in her, twisting her expression.
He actually meant every word.
“The engagement between Wiltièra and Blaize has been annulled,” she said firmly.
Let’s end this quickly and get away from this lunatic.
Choosing her words with care, Berenice spoke slowly and clearly enough for everyone around to hear.
“I know,” Nion said. “That’s why I’m suggesting we start over.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Berenice, don’t do something you’ll regret—”
“My only regret,” she cut him off coldly, “is ever being engaged to Blaize in the first place.”
Annoyance flickered in his pale green eyes, ruining his confident mask.
Seeing it, Berenice was struck speechless once again.
What on earth makes him think I’d ever say ‘yes, let’s start over’?
She was about to raise her voice—no longer willing to waste another second on him—when suddenly, the right-hand doors of the ballroom, which had remained closed until now, swung open.
The herald at the entrance announced in a loud, ringing voice for all to hear:
“His Supreme Majesty, the Emperor of Egonid, Edarc Manus, is entering!”
