Chapter 61
Chapter 61
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 61
Chapter Title: Dance and Revelations
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“Looks like he ran off. Sir Peristera, this is a commemoration too—care to dance?”
Instead of the fleeing man, Abyss extended his hand to invite her to dance. Rachel accepted readily.
“I’ll take you up on that.”
They were usually on casual terms, but right now both were mindful of the eyes around them.
Abyss and Rachel drew close to dance, and she whispered softly.
“But can you actually dance?”
“Of course. And you, miss?”
“Thanks to Mother and Enoch, I dance divinely.”
The orchestra began to play. And Abyss realized what she meant.
Her dancing was combative!
Tap dance? No, she was clearly stepping to stomp on his feet.
About to protest that this wasn’t dancing, Abyss read her expression and realized.
“You planning to break my foot bones?”
“Mother and Enoch often danced like this. You speed up your feet to avoid getting stepped on, and it looks passionate.”
Abyss desperately wanted to insist that was absolutely not the case. He had no idea why Evelyn and Enoch danced like that, but they had clearly passed on the wrong knowledge to Rachel.
In the end, all he could do was lift her body and spin her around.
The nobles watching from around them inwardly admired the unaristocratic, bold dance.
Her feet moved dazzlingly, the heels of her shoes clacking rapidly against the floor in a quick rhythm, and then the male partner lifted the female one up, tossing her into the air like flying before catching her.
The nobles around them were entranced by the acrobatic dance they had never seen before.
In a way, Rachel and Abyss’s debut into high society was a success. It had burned itself intensely into the memories of all the nobles present that day.
Rachel received congratulations from her family, exchanged appropriate greetings with nobles from Carion’s faction, and then headed out to the balcony.
“There sure are a ton of people.”
She muttered after successfully escaping to the balcony through the crowd. There were even more people now than when she had first entered the banquet hall.
“You’re telling me.”
A voice responded to Rachel’s mutter. She jolted at the sudden male voice, thinking the balcony was empty.
“It’s me, me.”
“Your Highness.”
It was Carion, emerging from behind the balcony wall. He held a plate piled high with food.
“Want some?”
“I won’t say no.”
The palace maids were great, but they had their subtly strict sides.
For three weeks, they’d made her look pretty with daily face and hair masks, and on the day of the banquet, they hadn’t given her any food.
All because a bulging belly would make it hard to wear the corset.
Rachel picked up a cookie and asked.
“What’s a prince like you doing out here, pigging out like some commoner?”
She hadn’t minced words because when she’d said she wanted money as a reward, they’d settled it with a title and land instead.
Carion noticed Rachel was miffed and gave an awkward smile.
“I need to eat in peace somewhere. Every time I reach for something, they all beg for a chance.”
The aftermath of the crown prince’s poisoning death had been massive.
As a result, the nobles under Carion kept offering to taste his food first, afraid he might get poisoned too.
In short, he had fled here to escape those overzealous nobles.
“Mind if I steal some of Your Highness’s food?”
“You’re so tiny—how much could you eat anyway? And you’re the star of the party, so eat up. This is special treatment, you know?”
Carion winked as he said it. Rachel snorted and replied.
“What an honor. You eat plenty too, Your Highness. They wouldn’t poison the banquet food, right?”
“That’s what I’ve been saying! I tell them I’ll be careful, but they keep touching my food. They’re gonna choke on it.”
Watching him fume, Rachel changed the subject to lighten the mood.
“By the way, is the banquet always this crowded every year?”
“This year’s special.”
She didn’t know it, but this banquet was grander than usual.
April marked the start of the social season in earnest.
The first ball was held at the palace in March as the weather warmed, followed by the debutante in early to mid-April.
The debutante, where noblewomen of marriageable age were introduced to society for the first time, was held annually—but not this year. There had been a national mourning period.
“You know my brother—the crown prince—died, right?”
“Yes.”
“The mourning period is a year. No parties at the palace without special reason. So the debutante got canceled.”
Rachel nodded along to Carion’s explanation.
“But it’s happening tonight?”
“There’s a deep reason for that.”
After the Paris Emporus incident, numerous nobles were arrested, leading to a massive purge of officials.
Work piled up. The tasks remained the same, but nearly half the workers were green replacements, tanking efficiency.
Efficiency dropped, but the workload increased.
Because the ones who’d been working were now in prison or confined to their estates due to the incident.
The rookies were supposed to grow on the job, but instead of growth, they regressed from stress.
“His Majesty felt the need to soothe the officials, so he threw this banquet. The reward ceremony was a perfect excuse—too trivial alone would undermine his dignity, so he combined it with appointments.”
Parents of ladies who’d missed debutante saw this as their chance. So did nobles eager to build connections.
Nobles flooded the king with requests to attend, swelling the banquet to maximum scale.
“I see.”
“No one knows when the next one will be, so they all flocked here. Makes it even more intense than last year.”
Carion didn’t hide his exasperation.
Before, the crown prince had shielded him, but this year, all that attention fell squarely on him.
“Must be tough.”
“Tell me about it. I used to have my brother as backup, but now I don’t know what to do. If only Enoch would step up as king instead…”
Rachel, munching a cookie, looked up at Carion’s lamenting face.
Why bring up Enoch all of a sudden?
“Why?”
“Why would Enoch become king?”
Carion shut his mouth.
Cold sweat beaded on his forehead, dripping down. His eyes lost focus, shaking.
“If he hasn’t said anything, neither can I.”
It felt like déjà vu. Hadn’t she been through something similar?
“Then, Your Highness, just answer ‘yes’ or ‘no’ without saying anything else. Enoch is Your Highness’s brother.”
“Yes.”
That answer cleared up several mysteries for Rachel.
In fact, at tonight’s banquet alone, besides her, Abyss, and Judge Jesty, Enoch should have received a reward too.
Yet he wasn’t here. Even as a temple member, did it make sense to exclude him?
And it was odd for a temple affiliate to later receive a high title. Or to be so chummy with Carion.
But if he were a prince or grand duke’s son, it all made sense.
No grand dukes in Cudas now, so just prince.
“No wonder that color combo is so rare.”
Silver hair and golden eyes symbolized the hero who slew the demon king—and the first king. The royal family denied it, but the church held it true.
“Exactly. There was a pact between the royals and the temple: if a silver-haired, golden-eyed child is born to the royal family, the temple protects them until age twenty.”
Just like Evelyn raised in the temple, Prince Enoch had been too.
Rachel nodded.
“You got it right away, huh?”
“You said you couldn’t say anything earlier, but now it’s spilling out?”
“If it’s already out, hiding it would just make you hate me more. I don’t like keeping secrets anyway.”
“You hid your identity from the start.”
“If I reveal who I am, people change how they treat me. That’s why I like you—you know and still treat me casually.”
Carion chuckled, picking up a piece of cake with thumb and forefinger and popping it into his mouth.
Feeling Rachel’s gaze, he added by way of excuse.
“I don’t usually eat this much. Just haven’t been able to lately.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“Your look was screaming ‘that hits the spot,’ though? Well, I like being eyed like that too.”
“Winning Your Highness’s favor—what an honor. But why’d you do that with the reward?”
“Haha, I told Father clearly, but he decided on his own? He said speak my mind, but I had nothing.”
Carion gave a hollow laugh at the question he’d dodged. Seeing Rachel’s clouded eyes, he fell silent.
The land the king granted her as reward was the commercial district with Harpa Castle.
Taxes? Decent. Location? Close enough to the palace, her mansion, and the temple—a few days by carriage.
Naturally, she’d reside there now—but she lacked means to defend herself.
She had one-against-many types like Evelyn and Enoch, but a handful of fighters couldn’t match noble private armies or knight orders.
Most nobles weren’t palace bureaucrats—they were military governors. They protected their lands and subjects, collecting taxes in return.
They warred with other nobles to expand, and losing meant losing land and people. It happened all the time.
Nobles projected elegance and refinement, but most lords were far from refined—legal thugs, basically.
And both Rachel and Carion knew it well.
“Money would’ve been better.”
Without power to hold land, wealth was preferable. Easier to guard treasure than territory.
“But it’s a royal grant—they won’t snatch it right away.”
“In the meantime, I’d need to build an army, but everything’s new to me, and whoever it is will be more experienced.”
Each word from Rachel was true, hitting Carion hard.
The girl before him was just fifteen. She’d face battle-hardened lords in their mid-twenties at best, averaging forties to sixties.
Exposing a relative’s crimes was a different difficulty.
“Get help from your father… No, he won’t help much.”
Carion didn’t know Henri’s palace image, but judged him unhelpful.
Rachel agreed—Henri couldn’t defend a territory.
‘Now I’ve got an extra burden on top of everything.’
The title wasn’t bad—better leverage with other nobles.
The land wasn’t a terrible reward either. But worth far less than the money she’d expected, and it added work, making it inconvenient.
“I get what you’re worried about. Interference from neighboring lords?”
“Mainly, yeah.”
“Then how about this? I have a skilled military man. I’ll dispatch him to your land for a year to train your soldiers.”
With Carion’s man directly guarding it, other lords’ meddling would decrease.
Especially once it sank in she was Carion’s—his faction’s nobles would be friendly and cooperative.
“Perfect. And one more thing!”
“More?”
“This’ll be good for both of us!”
With that, Rachel told Carion something.
His expression shifted several times as he listened.
When she finished, he nodded readily.
“If that’s it, I have to accept. But you okay with it? Seems better for me than you.”
At his question, Rachel replied with a confident smile.
“Of course. I support Your Highness. What’s good for you is good for me.”
At those sparkling eyes, Carion couldn’t hide his smile. He extended a hand to Rachel.
“Deal. Accepted.”
Rachel clasped it.
“Then I look forward to working with you, Your Highness.”