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Chapter 55.
The invitation that began with the cliché phrase “To my dear Lady Levian” was, at first glance, quite ordinary.
Except for two points:
that it contained a request for forgiveness for having been rude to the Tower Master, and that the sender was Merina Ikel.
The Empress had hosted several parties before, and I had attended some.
But Merina Ikel had never hosted one—not once.
“Did the Count make her do it?”
“Or perhaps the Empress?”
The timing—three weeks away—was abrupt enough that I couldn’t use short notice as an excuse to decline, and there were no other events overlapping that date.
“Not going would be a problem, but going feels like a problem too…”
If I didn’t attend, rumors might spread that I’d rejected Merina’s goodwill.
But if I did go, public opinion might shift in her favor.
Everything I had built up until now could be easily undone by Merina—
because people were always ready to take her side.
That was simply how society worked, and Merina played the beloved role perfectly.
Since I couldn’t blindly accept her invitation, I reached out to my friends.
By the next afternoon, both of them arrived—each holding the very same invitation from Merina.
“I got one too.”
“Me as well. Sounds like she sent them out to quite a few people.”
Pony shook her soft, peach-pink hair.
“I heard she even sent one to Lady Violet and her circle.”
Stella didn’t even touch the grapes before her as she examined the card.
“A masquerade ball, huh…”
“Weird, right? How is she supposed to apologize to Shilla at a masquerade?”
At such balls, faces were hidden; she wouldn’t even know who Shilla was.
Of course, people often recognized each other despite the masks—but etiquette dictated that one pretended not to. That was the rule of a masquerade.
“Exactly. And the fact that it’s Merina Ikel of all people hosting it just feels wrong.”
Pony, mid-bite of a macaron, suddenly made an “oh no” face—
she was dieting lately.
Stella set down her invitation and picked up a bunch of grapes.
“So, what will you do, Roa?”
“Obviously I don’t want to go. But if I don’t, what will she say? She even used the excuse that she wants to apologize to Shilla.”
“In short, ‘The true knight steps into the enemy camp knowing he may lose his head,’ right?”
Stella quoted an old classic with a smirk.
“Well, I have no intention of losing my head easily—so come with me.”
My friends nodded readily in agreement.
“Oh, and I call dibs on the red diamond jewelry design!”
“Hey, that’s not fair! I was going to say that first!”
“My parents’ and Karl’s pieces come first.”
“Kkyu!”
Leece, my little silver fox, bounded over and wagged his tail as if to remind me not to forget him either.
“Alright, alright, I’ll make yours too, don’t worry.”
At my soothing words, Leece hopped up onto the sofa, then settled comfortably in my lap.
“Oh my, a silver fox? I’ve only heard about them in rumors—may I get closer?”
“Of course. But don’t touch him suddenly—you have to introduce yourself first. If he likes you, he’ll make contact himself.”
I proudly shared what I’d learned from Ted about ‘how to tame a silver fox.’
My friends’ eyes went round with curiosity.
“He’s not only pretty but smart too, huh?”
“What’s his name?”
Even Stella, who had been lounging on the sofa, sat up and leaned closer, eyes sparkling.
“His name’s Leece. He’s just a month old.”
“Hello, Leece. I’m Pony. Nice to meet you.”
Leece gave her a cool, appraising look—then extended his right forepaw toward her.
“Can I touch him?”
“Offer your hand first, Pony. You can’t touch him right away—he needs time to get familiar.”
Pony carefully extended her plump hand. Leece placed his paw on it, sniffed, then gently licked her palm.
The tiny creature wagged his head, and Pony looked absolutely delighted.
“I want to say hello too.”
Stella joined in and successfully earned a greeting from Leece as well.
“He’s so cute! Leece, I’m Pony—remember me, okay? I’m Roa’s friend!”
While Pony busily tried to win his favor, Stella popped another grape into her mouth.
“So his name’s Leece, huh?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“Hmm, no reason. It just sounds… ladylike.”
I felt a brief jolt of fear—wondering if sharp-eyed Stella had noticed something—but I managed to stay composed.
Fortunately, she seemed to suspect nothing and turned her gaze back to Leece.
* * *
In her room at the Ikel estate, Merina stared vacantly out the window until a knock snapped her out of it.
“Come in.”
A maid entered, glancing around before stepping closer.
“Miss Merina, the items you requested have arrived.”
“Thank you.”
The maid set down two small crystal bottles and hurried out of the room.
Inside the transparent bottles shimmered a golden liquid.
Merina slowly picked one up, savoring the coolness against her skin as she murmured:
“Why won’t anyone take my side?”
She still received letters and flowers from many young noblemen, but none of them truly satisfied her—
especially since the Duke of Rishianshus, the Crown Prince, and the Tower Master were not among them.
Since childhood, every boy her age had smiled at her and forgiven her every misstep.
“So of course they should all take my side…”
Even her father, usually so gentle, had turned on her lately.
“How could you act that way toward the Tower Master?
If things had gone wrong, your sister could have been stripped of her Empress title and our family ruined!”
It was the first time Count Ikel had ever shouted at her. Merina burst into tears.
Though the Count eventually calmed down, he ordered her to resume her etiquette lessons.
Back to those dreadful lessons!
And with them, less time for tea parties and meetings with suitors.
“It’s all because of that woman.”
Rosia Levian, daughter of Marquis Levian—her eternal thorn.
Out of what she thought was kindness, Merina had once advised Rosia to distance herself from the Duke of Rishianshus, telling her not to get hurt, since he was bound to fall for Merina anyway.
But what did Rosia do?
She went to the Duke and acted as if Merina had threatened her!
“Such a wicked woman. I was being considerate, and she repays me like that?”
Worse still, the Duke seemed to believe it—that Merina had tried to harm Rosia.
How else could one explain what happened at the Duke’s estate?
“The Duke’s strange too. Why won’t he love me?”
He should ignore Rosia and give all his attention to her—just as every man had done before.
When Rishianshus didn’t even glance her way, Merina grew restless.
She’d never met a man like him and spent much time agonizing over what to do.
She sent letters, even loitered around the palace hoping to “accidentally” meet him—but those icy blue eyes never lingered on her.
The more he ignored her, the stronger her determination burned.
She kept trying to get closer—but he only looked at her with disdain.
Her only comfort was that the Duke and that detestable Rosia seemed to be drifting apart.
“Shilla Bernstein…”
She recalled the Tower Master who had appeared at the recent imperial ball, and her cheeks flushed red.
She had heard before that he sometimes attended court events, but this was the first time she had seen his face up close.
“How does that woman ensnare men like that? She must be using dark magic. That’s the only explanation.”
She had always been the one admired and adored—until now.
As she remembered the Tower Master’s beautiful face, Merina’s cheeks burned hotter.
“Ahh…”
What would it feel like to kiss that man?
Even kisses with men far less handsome had felt pleasant—
so how divine would it be with someone like him?
She even imagined cold, unyielding Duke Rishianshus kneeling at her feet.
“They’ll all be mine.”
Resolute, Merina placed the crystal bottle deep into her drawer and pulled out a sheet of stationery.
The recipient’s name she wrote was:
Calvin Levian.
