Adulthood Ball (3)
The emperor had two children. The first was Princess Esilia. The second was Prince Kahelrian.
'Is my sister the star of this ball too?'
The prince, seated on the balcony, gazed down at the bustling preparations in the venue below.
Princess Esilia had turned nineteen this year. She was now an adult.
'...The prime minister hasn't breathed a word about it.'
The emperor's bloodline had officially come of age. With the imperial throne effectively vacant and the prime minister handling regency—some acknowledgment for the newly adult Princess Esilia would only be proper.
But... the prime minister maintained silence, as if nothing had happened. He simply attended to state affairs and governed the empire as usual.
For the emperor's children, it was an uncomfortable situation.
'This won't be easy, sister.'
The prince swirled his wine glass before taking a sip. Of course, at seventeen, it was just grape juice. The imperial family strictly observed the underage drinking laws.
"Your Highness."
A group of young nobles approached the prince. Just as Princess Esilia traveled with her maid corps, the prince had his own cadre of prospective retainers attending him.
Unlike his sister, however, the prince wasn't enthusiastic about cultivating followers. He was accustomed to sitting quietly and receiving their tributes.
"Have you heard the news?"
"What news?"
"Dante of the Aisions is attending the adulthood ball."
Prince Kahelrian smiled faintly.
"Quite the event. Didn't he skip last year's?"
"Obviously. It must be at Princess Esilia's invitation."
Princess Esilia's faction was centered on noble ladies, inevitably so since she was a woman herself. Still, she had a few male followers.
The eldest son of the Aision family. Dante Aision. Prince Kahelrian and his supporters had made considerable efforts to pull Dante into their camp.
But Esilia had gotten there first with her schemes, turning him into an near-enemy now.
"Dante Aision. It's been ages since we last met. He's always glued to my sister."
As Prince Kahelrian muttered, the young nobles' eyes gleamed.
"Your Highness, don't you want to see Dante's magic?"
"Magic?"
"Bug TamerDante. The one who beat a Knight Academy student in a duel at fifteen."
"I'm curious, sure."
Dante's magic remained shrouded in mystery. At Sara Aision's debut ball, he'd secured victory in a bizarre fashion.
Surprisingly, exactly how he'd won was still unknown. Even the Magic Tower's mages had investigated, but no answers emerged.
In desperation, the Magic Tower lord had sent a letter directly to Dante.
To Dante Aision,
You there! What kind of bug magic did you use?! Tell me! Please!
— Magic Tower Lord
Dante's reply had been:
I'm not telling.
— Dante Aision
The tower lord had been driven to near madness by frustration. But what could he do? The recipient was the Aision family's heir. Storming a respectable count's estate for an interrogation was out of the question.
'If only he'd enroll in the Magic Tower...!'
'I'll enroll if there's a superior bug tamer.'
...No one in the Magic Tower surpassed Dante. Unless they imported lizardmen from the New Continent, finding a better bug tamer was nearly impossible.
Dante naturally never enrolled. After all, was there a professor who could teach better than Teacher Kracto? Absolutely not.
In the end, they concluded with a vague "It seemed like some bug, but we don't know~" and let it fade into obscurity.
Only a tiny few knew Dante's magic. Perhaps even Princess Esilia didn't know it all.
"If Dante is Princess Esilia's hidden card, now's the time to uncover that secret!"
Prince Kahelrian smiled at the fervent young noble.
These guys... plotting something sneaky.
So he responded positively.
"Don't overdo it."
"!"
The young nobles bowed excitedly.
"We won't disappoint you!"
"Just watch, Your Highness!"
Watching the cheerful noble youths dash off, the prince thought: This adulthood ball won't be boring either.
The official duration of the Adulthood Ball was all day long. Literally from dawn till dusk—and beyond.
Starting at 6 a.m. when the sun rose, entry was permitted, and it officially closed at sunrise the next day.
Twenty-four hours. Any young noble aged nineteen to twenty-four could enter freely.
Baron or duke, it didn't matter. All nobles, regardless of rank, were welcome!
'Oh my!'
It was only natural for baronesses' eyes to spin.
'Maybe... I'll romance the prince or a duke's son?!'
Most baronesses dreamed of sparking something with princes or ducal heirs—but naturally, most failed.
They weren't Cinderellas. No pretty pumpkin coaches or fairy godmothers.
'How dare a lowly rural baron's daughter speak to me!'
'Hic!'
Harsh reality. The duke-to-marquis line had already paired off among themselves via political marriages. Many arrived with fiancés from the start.
As the baronesses shed tears of shattered dreams of rising status(?) or life reversals(?), count heirs slyly approached with handkerchiefs.
'Milady, here...'
'And you are...?'
Scanning them head to toe, the baronesses mentally tallied at light speed.
Right. Dukes are too big a fish, but a count? Manageable... maybe?
'Ahh~ Would you comfort me today?'
'Gladly.'
The baroness thought him a prince on a white horse. In truth, he was the infamous "count playboy wastrel."
The count wastrel toyed with the naive rural lady and discarded her. Later, she'd wail, 'How could you do this to me~?!'
The playboy wastrel replied:
'Why so clingy? We were never serious from the start, right?'
'!!!'
That was high society in a nutshell. Men and women locking eyes nonstop—breaking hearts nonstop, clashing nonstop.
Such chaotic pandemonium was the Adulthood Ballroom.
"Ugh, even here it's getting tiresome."
"Tell me about it."
Dante and Sara stepped from the carriage, eyeing the venue.
Indeed... they were growing weary of this place.
Most imperial youth events were held at the grand hall. Even for a wealthy empire, building new venues every few years was extravagant.
So they kept returning to the same spots, over and over.
"And the people around me never change!"
Sara playfully poked Dante.
"This year, you might switch it up."
"..."
Dante replied without a hint of jest. Sara pouted.
She hadn't wanted a serious answer. Today, her brother was too serious. Was something up?
That was when—
"Oh! You're early."
A noble lady approached. Since debuting in society, Sara had networked diligently, so most knew each other.
This lady was familiar too.
"Have you been well? Lady Bolein of Count Bolein?"
"Of course. Lady Sara Aision of Count Aision."
The nineteen-year-old in a stunning green dress naturally greeted Dante as well.
"Dante Aision."
"A pleasure. Milady."
Dante knew who she was. House Bolein was one of the southern counts, in rugged mountains. They rarely attended imperial events, but this major ball drew them north.
As Dante observed her, Lady Bolein swiftly scanned him top to bottom.
Neat attire +10 points. Handsome face +20. No arrogance or condescension +25.
First impressions: exceedingly favorable.
But—'Bug tamer... was it?'
Dante Aision was a bug tamer. Lady Bolein had no clue what that entailed.
Summoning bugs or something? Mage, so bonus points... but bugs? Eww.
"I heard you're a mage, Dante."
"Yes."
"Could you show us your magic?"
Most men couldn't resist flaunting their skills. Chance to impress a girl!
Magic was hard to learn; mages trained all day. A chance to show off before a lady? At twenty? Irresistible!
But Dante shook his head.
"I practice bug magic."
"Ah... bug magic?"
"It controls insects. Many find it unsightly, so I refrain in open spaces."
Lady Bolein bowed politely.
"Forgive my presumption, but House Bolein prides itself on deep, lush forests. Summers bring swarms of forest bugs indoors."
"..."
"If you imagine me fainting at bugs... that'd be troublesome."
Her smile beamed confidence: Bring it!
Dante was mildly impressed. A lady unfazed by bugs? In this romance-fantasy world, she was general material.
But bug magic wasn't what she thought.
Real bug magic from Dante would open dozens of holes in his body, spilling red honeybees.
Would she go 'Wow, amazing~?' Or scream and flee? Dante bet on the latter.
No need for the full show with Lady Bolein, though. He knew social graces.
"Then."
Snap!Dante flicked his fingers.
A pure white butterfly fluttered down, alighting on his fingertip.
"Wow...!"
To Lady Bolein's soft gasp, Dante placed it atop her tiara.
Her friends covered their mouths in awe.
"Oh, a butterfly...!"
"So pretty, milady!"
"Really?!"
Lady Bolein whipped out her essential—hand mirror—and beamed.
"Oh my..."
Good enough. Dante snapped again. The butterfly fluttered off to the flowerbed.
"Was that bug magic?"
"A tiny part of it, yes."
He bowed slightly.
"I showed you magic befitting Lady Bolein."
"...!"
+50 points. Bug magic +50!
Her eyes sparkled. First meeting today, but... this guy was solid?! Gut feeling hit.
And Lady Bolein wasn't the hesitant type!
"Dante Aision!"
Cheeks faintly flushed, she called out.
"Do you have a partner promised for today?"
Straight ball! Her friends clenched fists, watching.
Date invite to a stranger?! So bold! But go friend!
"If not... care to stroll with me?"
Dante pondered briefly.
Social etiquette's iron rule(?): Ladies could refuse gentlemen, but gentlemen couldn't refuse ladies.
Of course, playboys, VIPs, or those like Dante uninterested in marriage ignored it.
But—'Good is good.'
He maintained a public image. Mage or not, he was Aision heir.
Sister Sara would marry someday. Valentina and Eric too, eventually.
As eldest, set an example. Coming voluntarily meant following rules—not recklessly flouting them.
"Your offer is always welc—"
As Dante accepted Lady Bolein's proposal—
"Dante Aision—!"
"...?"
"What the hell are you doing—!"
A booming voice echoed. Dante turned.
A group of young nobles advanced toward him.