Chapter 124: Start of the Spring Festival
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 124: Start of the Spring Festival
The moment Ferda concluded his speech, a swarm of nobles descended upon him.
“Greetings, Regent of Valdrova. That was a truly magnificent speech.”
“I am not much of an orator, so I wasn't sure if my message would be properly conveyed.”
“What are you saying? I was deeply moved! I simply must take part in that grand dream of yours, Regent!”
Most showed their favor by praising it as a fine moral lesson, while a few reacted with a passionate intensity, as if they had been truly inspired.
Middle-aged men think with their heads, but young men think with their hearts. In their hearts, the Hero is still on his quest, journeying toward the princess trapped in the castle.
In that sense, Ferda reflected on the speech he had just given with his head.
It was enough to make my skin crawl.
Hope, friendship—these were mere platitudes that didn't suit him. Such concepts were difficult for him to even contemplate, let alone compose. It would have been an impossible task for anyone who wasn't a seasoned veteran of political theater.
He cast a subtle glance toward the ambitious woman herself: Olivia Arken.
She was standing at a round table near the host’s dais. Naturally, she wasn't alone; she was mingling with other young noblewomen of high status.
The Golden Rose, was it?
It was a social circle with Olivia Arken at its center—a clever device designed to ward off men who tried to approach her. Olivia, the golden rose, stood protected, surrounded by a thicket of thorns and leaves.
Ferda watched her as she laughed. It was a performance overflowing with affectation.
It was strange. He certainly hadn't sensed such pretense when she looked at him.
Perhaps her acting has slipped in the meantime.
After enduring the greetings of the swarming nobles, Ferda approached Olivia. It was time to play along with the scenario she had crafted.
“Thank you for your assistance with the Start of Spring Festival.”
“Not at all. It was an honor to be of help.”
“Then, I hope you enjoy the rest of the evening.”
Olivia gave a slight smile and tilted her head ever so slightly. Ferda moved on without saying a word more than necessary. It was a clean, professional interaction, designed to dispel any notion of a man and woman caught in a scandal.
She’s doing well.
Satisfied with her cooperation, Ferda lightly circled the ballroom, exchanging pleasantries. Although the banquet was for everyone, it was an unwritten rule that knights and nobles remained separate. This distinction was made clear through their attire.
While the nobles wore flamboyant, extravagant clothes, the knights wore vests and tunics, appearing relatively modest. Among the knights, Ferda spotted two familiar faces: Jed and Malcolm.
“I found your speech very impressive, Regent.”
“It—it was really cool! Totally!”
Even though they wore the same uniform, the vibe was entirely different. Jed looked sharp and stylish no matter what he wore, while Malcolm looked like a country bumpkin regardless of the outfit.
William would have been the perfect fit for this place.
William was a man so thorough that even Ferda considered him a role model. Ferda had hoped he would attend, but William had politely declined. He intended to pull an all-nighter during the festival, driven by his sense of duty as the Security Force Captain. It was a pity, but it was a choice that deserved respect.
“Regent, may I have a word?”
Contrary to his beaming face, Jed’s voice came out as a low grumble.
“How long are you going to let this guy shadow me?”
“Shadowing you?”
“This bastard follows me every time I try to go anywhere, asking, ‘Sir Jed, where are you going?’”
“Is that so?”
“I’d have to tell him I’m on a secret mission just to shake him off, right? But then he might go and blab it to everyone, wouldn't he? Then it wouldn't be a secret mission anymore, would it?”
Jed glared at Ferda, his eyes bloodshot from stress. While Ferda didn't particularly care about Jed's mental state, the man had a point.
“Go. I’ll handle it.”
“Then I’m off.”
Jed moved with lightning speed—it was hard to tell if his step was light because a burden had been lifted, or if he was simply fleeing to avoid being caught.
“Huh? Where did Sir Jed go…?”
“I sent him on an errand because I remembered something I forgot.”
“Ah, I see.”
“Don’t bother looking for him. Why don’t you try mingling with the other knights?”
“Uh… well…” Malcolm scratched his head awkwardly. “Was I… really being a nuisance to Sir Jed? I’m not used to these kinds of gatherings, so I was trying to get some guidance from him…”
So that was why he had been "marking" him.
“You’ve become a knight of the Imperial Household, yet you’ve never stood in a place like this?”
“The Regent is the only one who invites me to these things… I didn't even get a knighthood ceremony; I just received my appointment letter. I naturally thought I’d just be eating leftovers and sleeping in the barracks during the festival, but then you called for me. I wanted to do you proud… I wanted to ask how I should behave, but I suppose I was just bothering Sir Jed.”
Malcolm was a man who could never have reached the rank of knight on his own, but his tenacity was superior to anyone else's. Ferda found himself unable to simply send him back to his room.
“I suppose you feel more comfortable carrying out orders than socializing in a place like this.”
“Yes! If it’s something I can do, I’ll do anything!”
“Then I shall give you one command.”
Malcolm wagged his metaphorical tail like an eager puppy.
“Keep an eye out to see if any trouble breaks out here. Understood?”
“And then I should handle it?”
“There is no need to step in. Just watch. While eating and drinking. Understood?”
“Yes! Understood!”
The order was accepted, though Malcolm belatedly felt something was off. However, deciding that he only needed to carry out the command, he soon dismissed his doubts. In reality, nothing had changed, but the sense of aimlessness that had plagued Malcolm vanished. With that, the matter was settled.
As he passed through the crowds of strangers, Ferda eventually found another familiar face. It was Arwen. He hadn't originally been on the guest list, but Ferda had included him intentionally.
“Arwen Wolfheart, knight of the Consilus Territory, greets the Regent. Thank you for inviting me to the Start of Spring Festival.”
“Count Consilus favors you greatly; shouldn't I help out as well?”
“To say he favors me is far too much.”
Though the Count hadn't explicitly asked, Ferda knew that Consilus cherished Arwen immensely. The Count was an elderly man and would eventually need an heir. Someday, Arwen would be recognized not just as a knight, but as the adopted son of Ulvera Consilus, inheriting the earldom. Therefore, Arwen had to become one of Ferda’s people.
“Jed mentioned it. That you have a woman on your mind.”
“Ahem… well, there hasn't been any significant progress yet…”
It was the reaction of a virgin who knew nothing but the sword and honor. Then, Arwen’s gaze drifted. A woman in a green dress smiled brightly as their eyes met. That noblewoman, who looked rather flighty, was definitely someone Ferda had seen at the Grand Council.
“She’s from House Purity.”
“Yes. She is the third daughter of that house.”
She looked like a princess out of a fairy tale—not in a grand way, but in the sense that she looked somewhat dim-witted. She didn't feel like a strategically crafted weapon like her elder sisters; she felt like she had been raised in a greenhouse.
That meant she had no political value to be exploited. It didn't seem like Arwen would have much to worry about. Still, just in case, Ferda gave him a tip.
“Don’t do anything strange here.”
“Of course not. What kind of trouble would I possibly cause?”
“If you’re going to do it, wait until you’re back in the earldom.”
“Pardon? Ah, understood.”
Arwen didn't quite grasp Ferda’s meaning. After their conversation, Arwen walked over to the young lady. He smiled awkwardly, and the lady gave a bashful grin.
Watching them made Ferda’s heart ache for no reason. Some people couldn't even hold their fiancée’s hand, while others were having the time of their lives…
It’s this atmosphere.
What had it been like when he attended parties like this before his regression? No one had approached Ferda. He had been an uncomfortable guest, sent an invitation merely as a formality, yet he had actually shown up.
I was just like Malcolm.
Perhaps that was why he felt a subtle sense of pity. Because he had been there, he knew that loneliness. Even now, Ferda felt isolated. No, he was even lonelier than back then. He felt as if he had left his other half somewhere else.
A moment later, a signal sounded from the orchestra. The time for idle chatter was over; it was time to truly liven up the atmosphere. It was the sound signaling the start of the ball. The dressed-up "bees" moved about, pestering the "flowers" they took a fancy to.
The host’s duty.
Ferda looked for someone quiet among the flowers the bees were ignoring. He spotted a thin, black-haired noblewoman with freckles. She wasn't a beauty, but she wasn't plain either; she was simply a woman who didn't stand out. He didn't know which house she belonged to.
Ferda walked over and extended his hand.
“As the host, I would like to request a dance, if you don’t mind.”
The freckled noblewoman looked around before pointing at herself in surprise.
“Oh my, are you really going to dance with someone like me?”
“It wouldn't do to not enjoy oneself at such a wonderful gathering.”
“If the Regent is fine with it, I would be happy to accept.”
She shyly took his hand. By the time most people were paired up, the orchestra transitioned from the prelude to the main piece. It wasn't a passionate dance, but a light waltz. The volume was adjusted perfectly for couples to converse.
The pairs were busy vetting one another. Ferda, however, said nothing. He felt he only needed to fulfill his duty as host and didn't try to force small talk.
“Regent, you are engaged to Lady Valdrova, aren't you?” the freckled noblewoman asked, broaching the topic first.
“That is correct.”
“Have you seen the Archduchess in person?”
“Yes.”
“Was… wasn't it scary? It might sound like a silly question…”
“It wasn't scary.”
The woman’s eyes widened. “Is that possible? When your partner is a dragon?”
“…”
“Oh dear, I’m being rude. It’s just that for people like us, marrying a great Aspect is quite fascinating…”
“It’s fine.”
As she said, no one could truly understand his engagement to Valdrova. Only Ferda knew what kind of being she truly was.
“She is wiser and has a warmer heart than any human. I know this because I have seen it myself.”
“Is that so?”
“Furthermore, she takes an interest in many things and strives to understand and empathize.”
This was the side of her that only Ferda knew—and the side he wanted others to see. He told the freckled noblewoman about her, bit by bit. After listening quietly, the noblewoman spoke.
“Now that I look at you, Regent, you seem like a truly warm person as well.”
“Pardon?”
“I can feel that you love her to your very core.”
“Why do you think that?”
“Because a smile appears on your face whenever you talk about the Archduchess.”
A smile?
Ferda was startled, and his focused steps faltered. However, it didn't lead to a stumble. The freckled noblewoman skillfully turned her body, bringing the rhythm back to normal.
Ferda asked her naturally, “Am I smiling?”
“Yes. Didn't you know?”
He hadn't. For Ferda, who rarely smiled at others, it was a revelation.
“Ah. Your face is trying to go back to how it was,” the noblewoman noted. “Please keep smiling like that. Show everyone that the person engaged to the Archduchess is someone who knows how to love.”
“Do you think that would be for the best?”
“Of course. Please, keep telling me. Tell me what kind of person Lady Valdrova is.”
Hearing her words, the tension left Ferda’s expression. Following his heart, he spoke of Valdrova with genuine warmth.
A short while later, the song ended.
“Thank you for giving a humble noblewoman the honor of dancing with the Regent.”
“Not at all, I am the one who should be grateful.”
He meant it. The freckled noblewoman met his eyes, gave a soft smile, and disappeared into the crowd. Watching her go, Ferda realized he had forgotten one thing.
Come to think of it, I didn't even ask for her name.
Because he had spent such a comfortable time, he hadn't properly vetted her. It would be rude to chase her down now. Since the ball was in full swing, he figured he could find her later.
Ferda moved according to the scenario, which was his top priority.
Now, I ask Olivia for a dance.
This was the plan to resolve the scandal. He would be rejected, implying that their relationship wasn't romantically deep. Ferda moved toward the table where the Golden Rose was gathered.
Just as planned—like strangers.
To show that while he was acquainted with her, there was no affection, he reached out to the single flower.
“As the host, I would like to request a dance, if you don’t mind.”
Olivia’s response, as she covered her mouth with a fan, was expected to be a polite refusal.
“Yes.”
“Yes, then… wait, what?”
No.
“I’d love to,” she said.
She had broken the scenario she had written herself.
“Let’s dance.”