TCMGF 74

Chapter 74

Monica was wearing the holy maiden’s ceremonial robe. Even though the design looked plain at first glance, her appearance made it shine.

Of course, my eyes weren’t on the saint, but on Ezekiel.

“Wow…”
“The clothes suit him so well…”

They weren’t admiring Monica. They were admiring Ezekiel.

Though he was known as the master of Vettra, beautiful in summer, in truth his appearance suited winter far more.

So how perfect must he look in the atmosphere of the Winter Palace Ball?

It was as though he had rediscovered colors that had been hidden away because they didn’t match the season—charisma overflowing.

“But he really looks like a dark sorcerer.”
“Yeah. It’s not just me, right?”

Especially since he was escorting the saint, dressed in bright colors, his old nickname followed him around like a shadow.

But what did it matter? His beauty made the outfit look as though it belonged to him all along.

“Duchess, the first dance will begin shortly.”

Ah—right. I had almost forgotten.

Lorenzo Spinelli was wearing a neatly balanced outfit: a light white jacket with a black shirt underneath, creating strong contrast.

Paired with his pink hair, he looked rather charming—almost boyish, with his rosy blush making him appear younger still.

“All right.”

As if planned, Lorenzo and I stepped away from the dance floor. By principle, we had decided not to dance the first dance.

Ezekiel had done the same, focusing instead on seating the saint in her assigned place as the music began.

He seemed to be giving her a crash course in ballroom etiquette, his strict brows furrowed. He looked more like an academy teacher than a husband.

“Is Michele enjoying himself?”
“He’s under uncle-watch.”

Michele stood by the wall, stylishly holding a non-alcoholic cocktail and sipping. Girls his age were sneaking glances at him.

Though they weren’t yet old enough to debut into society—instead expected to play in the children’s room prepared next door to the Winter Palace—they still admired the ball.

They had surely heard stories of how their parents met for the first time at balls like this. Hearts fluttering, they dreamed of meeting the childhood friend who might one day become their lifelong partner.

“Viola?”

Someone called out to me.

“Viola! This is our first time seeing you since you became the Duchess!”

It was my old friends. Ever since I’d moved to Vettra, we had only kept in touch by letters, but these were the very girls who used to shield me from unwanted dance requests.

“Viola, you’ve changed so much. You’re brighter now!”
“Thanks. I guess living in good surroundings has changed me without me realizing.”
“You’ll invite us someday, won’t you?”
“Anyway, did you hear about the new opera? They got a standing ovation from the opening performance—Her Highness the Crown Princess herself was the first to rise…”
“Ah! But Viola, weren’t you there? How was it? Was it really that amazing?”

Once the dam was broken, conversation poured endlessly. With Ezekiel nowhere nearby, I decided to enjoy chatting with my friends.

“Mr. Spinelli, you can dance with other ladies too.”
“Me? With someone else?”
“Why not? The first dance is already past, and people are starting to focus on things other than dancing.”

He still seemed reluctant to move, so I added a little encouragement.

“Here, you can even ask the saint for a dance if you like. Just avoid the married men and women.”

Of course, I doubted many noblemen would dare ask the much-talked-about saint to dance.

Lorenzo stared at her blankly, then nodded.

“Thank you for the advice.”

I sent him off and happily chattered away with my friends. After all, there are many ways to enjoy a ball. Dancing with men isn’t the only option.

We dove headlong into the whirlpool of conversation.

Meanwhile, Ezekiel was busy correcting the saint’s manners.

“Just smile lightly. If you pour out your life story, you’ll only make the other person uncomfortable.”
“Ah, yes. Yes!”
“And at an imperial ball, it is proper to greet members of the royal family first.”
“I’m sorry. It’s my first time at a noble party, everything feels so strange.”

Watching her nervousness, he was reminded of his wife. Viola had been timid like this at her first ball too.

But now—his wife was happily chatting with her friends across the room. That was a relief.

Just half a day more, and I can be with Viola again.

The saint before him was merely a duty.

All he had to do was fend off strange people who tried to approach her, whisper nobles’ names and ranks into her ear, and help her greet them smoothly.

Just a little longer. I can endure.

But even while talking to the saint, his gaze strayed to Lorenzo beside Viola.

When he’d first seen Lorenzo escorting Viola into the hall, his stomach had twisted.

Though Lorenzo’s bumbling manners made him seem harmless, Ezekiel hadn’t expected to feel such an ugly sting of emotion.

Every time he looked away, he feared his wife might be swept off her feet and start rumors of taking a lover. His neck prickled with tension.

What am I even thinking…

He let out a bitter laugh—only to spot him.

Yes, that man. Lorenzo Spinelli. The one with pink hair that vaguely resembled the Crown Princess’s, irritatingly so.

And now he was approaching—without Viola.

Ezekiel’s brow furrowed deeper. Lorenzo froze under the weight of his glare, unable to step closer.

So Ezekiel went to him instead. He excused himself from the saint, approached Lorenzo, and the younger man stumbled back nervously.

“What do you think you’re doing.”
“Wh-what?”
“Why are you walking around without my wife? Have you forgotten that your role here is to escort the Duchess of Vettra?”

Lorenzo protested with a wounded look.

“The Duchess allowed it! She said she’d be more comfortable if I mingled with others.”

Really? Ezekiel clicked his tongue harshly. For Viola to send her escort away…

Still, strangely, he wasn’t entirely displeased.

“What business brings you here then?”

Lorenzo kept glancing past his shoulder. Ezekiel felt a creeping suspicion.

“I… I’d like to ask the saint for a dance.”

Lorenzo’s cheeks flushed as he spoke. Was he serious? He had seemed so mild-mannered, but now he was aiming for the most difficult partner.

No. Think rationally.

If the saint danced first with a royal collateral, fewer random nobles would bother her.

Besides, Viola herself had asked Lorenzo to look after the saint. It would be good for the saint too.

“Very well.”

At Ezekiel’s ready approval, Lorenzo brightened and confidently asked the saint for a dance. She gladly accepted.

“Look! The new saint is on the dance floor!”
“Who’s her partner?”
“It’s Lorenzo Spinelli!”

While attention shifted to them, Ezekiel had a moment of freedom. He immediately moved toward his wife.

Because everyone’s eyes were on the saint, Viola had also turned to watch. But when she saw her husband, her face lit up.

“Isn’t that the Duke of Vettra?”
“Oh my!”

Her friends welcomed him warmly.

“Nice to meet you. We’ve heard so much.”
“Viola, I think your husband wants to spend some time with you.”

Thanks to them, he had the chance he wanted.

“Would you grant me the honor of a dance?”

Viola’s hand slipped into his palm. They followed the lively waltz, his arm firm around her waist.

It was a dreamlike moment, a fleeting joy he wished would never end.

When the music swelled, he lifted Viola at the waist and spun her around.

The bold gesture, the kind lovers use to whisper their love, set the crowd abuzz.

He didn’t care about gossip. He welcomed it.

Locking eyes with the Emperor, who was watching intently, Ezekiel returned the gaze steadily.

Sparks flew between the old fox and him.