Mess 161
by Cristae161.
While laughter and conversation filled the air, they quietly slipped away to the balcony, avoiding the festivities.
Only a thin curtain separated the magnificent ballroom from the outdoor balcony, which was bitterly cold. To make matters worse, it was still dim, as the lights hadn’t been turned on yet.
Relying on the sliver of light leaking through the curtain, you could see that some people had already gathered on the balcony.
They were supporters of the Crown Prince.
They warily watched each other, holding their tongues.
“…This is absurd,” someone finally muttered, mustering the courage to speak first. It was the young Baron Catio. His purple hair, almost overripe like a plum on the verge of rotting, made that impression even stronger.
“All of them feigning adoration just because she’s won some favor, when they never cared before….”
The young Catio let out an irritably heavy sigh.
“Exactly.”
“It’s just ridiculous…”
“Now they act as if they’re close. Utterly revolting.”
No sooner had one comment been spoken than others piled on, their words sharp with scorn.
But none of them were speaking their true minds.
Least of all the young Baron Catio.
‘Damn it, if only I had pressed a little harder back then…!’
He still regretted it deeply.
It was his own house that had first recognized the potential of Countess Validus.
If only that arrogant woman had accepted his family’s proposal, the dazzling glory unfolding behind that curtain would now belong to him.
‘But she kept refusing!’
She had no sense of her own position, repeatedly ignoring their suit, and then—whatever she did—suddenly began seeing young Lady Felikia.
‘If she wants to cling to the Crown Prince’s side, shouldn’t she cease at once?’
He still shuddered at the haunting voice of Orchis, who, rarely seen at social gatherings, had given him a chilling warning in his ear.
But what was even more humiliating than that threat was the family’s decision to abandon their proposal because of such a paltry menace.
It was degrading just to recall it.
‘At least it’s a relief that this hasn’t come to light.’
While everyone grumbled and vented their frustrations, there were some who kept an unusually tight rein on their words.
They were none other than the young heirs of House Mars.
The gathering glanced at these two, casting quick, nervous looks. Some clicked their tongues, while others turned away in open distaste.
That family had caused too much trouble recently.
The second son committed arson, and as luck would have it, Countess Validus was present at the scene.
Because of this, trust between the two houses was broken, the contract for the distribution of the Divine Relic was canceled, and their plans to skim profits on the margins were for nothing.
That alone caused considerable damage, but the eldest son made things worse at the last banquet, attempting to kill his own sister in the imperial palace. The spy they had planted was exposed, and for a while, blood ran thick in their wake.
“…Tsk.”
“Ahem.”
But even with all this discontent, the House of Mars couldn’t be completely cast out—they remained the wealthiest house in the Empire.
For now, Mars was still needed.
Especially to keep Validus in check.
The Divine Relic was now a tiresome topic. The Kia Merchant Guild had surpassed its earlier fame, and, with the value of today’s new material presentation, it could very well become far richer than even Mars.
In the ballroom, works by Via Provi, the painter backed by Validus, adorned many corners.
It was recently revealed that the now-famous artist of darkness, too, was sponsored by the countess.
Rumor even had it that the disbanded Iris Knights would soon be transferred by the Imperial House to Validus.
“……”
“……”
Silence fell again upon the balcony.
Some envied the fortune of Validus; others considered whether it was time to switch allegiances, and yet others denounced Validus as their outright enemy.
But here, all of them were laboring under one misconception.
What had fallen to Validus was not ‘fortune,’ but only the marks of her desperate struggle to survive.
“…And yet.”
Someone spoke.
“Where is His Highness the Crown Prince?”
Young Count Baglosa was certain that no one in the world had suffered as unjustly as he had. He truly believed it.
His sincerity was distorted, and, because of one brief mistake, he was treated like a criminal and banished—forced to withdraw to his estate.
The months he spent there became an unending torment.
‘Damn those women…!’
His heart boiled with anger and hatred so fierce it didn’t feel enough to tear them to pieces. He could never forgive the women who’d made him out as the victim.
Batisa Castiné, who had ignored and wounded his heart.
And Seraphie Validus, who had foiled his love.
He hated both so much he wanted to tear their throats out, but if he had to rank them, Batisa was his first target.
‘None of this would have happened if you’d only accepted my feelings!’
Baglosa was convinced that Batisa Castiné harbored feelings for him as well, but, for now, she was just playing coy out of embarrassment for such love.
But suddenly, she feigned otherwise and insulted him, oblivious to her own station.
“……”
Ascending to the capital, Baglosa made a firm resolution.
‘I was far too gentle.’
People mistake kindness for weakness. He resolved to make sure she could never again think so.
He would show her just how considerate he had always been.
“…Herba.”
Lost in bitter hate, Baglosa snapped his head up.
There, reclining crookedly on the sofa, sat the Crown Prince, wreathed in the dazzling beauty of preparations for the evening.
“Your Highness,” Baglosa greeted, bowing deeply.
“It is an honor to have been summoned like this—”
“Herba Baglosa.”
The moment his name was called, Baglosa froze. It felt as if a great serpent was crawling up his nape, baring its fangs.
The Crown Prince gazed at him intently.
“Do not disappoint me again.”
It was as if a sentence of death had been stayed; the Crown Prince’s words hung in the air like a blade poised at the throat.
Baglosa felt his mouth turn arid.
“To think I must be hindered by the likes of that…”
“Your Highness…”
“I forgave your first mistake that once.”
The Crown Prince allowed him no chance to reply. This was why the recently passed redevelopment bill had become all but meaningless.
“If, this time as well…”
A single bead of cold sweat traced down the side of Baglosa’s forehead.
The Crown Prince left the rest unsaid. That silence made the warning all the more chilling, all the more brutal.
“…You may go.”
Only when dismissed did Baglosa rise, awkwardly, from his seat. As he offered his courtesies and withdrew, the Crown Prince never spared him a glance.
Everything disgusted him.
One by one, things were slipping from his control, changing in ways that defied prediction.
‘Where did it all go wrong?’
The Crown Prince idly fiddled at the tender flesh beneath his nail. It had been a very long time since he had felt this sense—someone threatening his very existence.
‘Killing is easy, but…’
The trouble was, even that simple solution was no longer usable.
He had learned with his own wounded hand on the lands of Iris that if he harbored even a trace of murderous intent, the Divine Relic the woman possessed would immediately manifest its power.
“……”
What must he do to sever her hands and feet?
He was pondering this when—
“Your Highness.”
His attendant announced a visitor. Upon hearing the guest’s name, the Crown Prince’s expression softened.
“I heard you would not be attending, being in mourning.”
He sneered as the man entered.
“I imagined you drowning in tears and despair.”
“Nevertheless, I felt it my duty to show my face to Your Highness, even under such unfortunate circumstances.”
A green-eyed man with chestnut hair brushed neatly aside greeted him with impeccable etiquette.
“Count Rde Loria greets His Imperial Highness the Crown Prince.”
“Count Validus!”
“Over here, please, over here!”
“How have you been?”
As at the previous autumn’s ball, as soon as Seraphie appeared, nobles swarmed around, encircling her.
“How has everyone been?”
This time, Seraphie handled things much more expertly than before.
“And young Lord Felikia is with you as well.”
“Haha, you two make an excellent pair.”
Orchis, who arrived with Seraphie, was also greeted by many nobles.
“Young Lord Felikia! I owe you much from last time.”
“Not at all. I, in fact, learned far more.”
“Yes, about what we discussed then…”
Orchis was conversing about topics Seraphie knew nothing of.
“……”
Seraphie watched Orchis with mixed feelings. It struck her again just how busy he must be.
‘Of course—a busy man…’
After all, he was heir to a duke’s house. Despite his inevitable obligations, he always found time to help her; for that, she felt both grateful and sorry. And sad.
‘He really should get some rest.’
When did this man ever rest?
“…Is something wrong?”
Sensing her gaze, Orchis tilted his head slightly and asked.
“It’s nothing.”
Seraphie replied with an easy smile, as if nothing was amiss.
Orchis eyed her suspiciously but did not press. Instead, he insisted several times that she must speak up if she ever felt tired.
“My, what a warm atmosphere!”
“You two really look good together.”
Older nobles, like parents, smiled benevolently at the pair.
Seraphie, laughing shyly along with them, cast a glance to the side.
A bit away, Loony and Karl were chatting amicably with other nobles in separate groups.
‘Looks like they’re doing well.’
Karl, though originally a knight, had found good company among other martial nobles and warriors. Some even clapped his shoulder and arm with hearty laughter.
Loony, too, was exchanging friendly words with many who had business ties to Validus.
Far off, Count Mars watched them all with burning eyes but did not dare approach.
‘Good, not bad at all.’
Seraphie hoped with all her heart that tonight’s ball would remain peaceful to the end. She wished for nothing but an uneventful evening.
“Countess!”
Just then, Duke Felikia hurried toward her from across the room.
“Eep.”
Unconsciously, Seraphie flinched.