Chapter 125: A Smile and a Punishment
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 125: A Smile and a Punishment
The first Start of Spring Festival in the Archduchess of Valdrova’s territory had finally arrived.
Hestia Village celebrated the budding season with lively music, ringing laughter, and the heady scent of spirits.
The nobility began their preliminary social gatherings around noon, just as the sun started its slow descent toward the west. Most of the attendees were young lords and ladies who had arrived early to expand their networks. In these circles, the later one arrived, the greater the testament to their influence.
Olivia Arken made her entrance into the ballroom just as the sun began to dip below the horizon.
Though she was not the host, every eye in the room turned toward her. No one said it aloud, but everyone present—even the host—knew that the true centerpiece of this event was Olivia Arken.
“You look beautiful today as well, Imperial Princess.”
“I heard you put in a word so that we could attend the Start of Spring Festival. We are truly grateful.”
The members of the Golden Rose swarmed her, showering her with flattery. Since Olivia had specifically asked Ferda to ensure they were invited, their attendance was a given. As they were performing their roles faithfully, it was only right that she rewarded them.
“Of course. Are we not bound by a singular friendship?”
“Until last year, I couldn't have even dreamed of setting foot in a festival like this… I’m so moved I think I might cry.”
“Oh, stop, my makeup will run. I’ll end up looking like a corpse bride.”
“A corpse bride? Don’t say such scary things.”
The young ladies burst into laughter. While the others enjoyed themselves, for Olivia, there was no time more grueling than this. She had to offer hollow exclamations and comforts while enduring the unwanted gazes of men.
Still, this is less annoying than other social circles.
It was strange. Was it because there was someone she was actually looking forward to seeing? She didn't feel as exhausted as usual; in fact, she found it easier to play her part with vigor.
As evening fell, Ferda entered the banquet hall.
“Presenting the Great Prince Consort, Regent Ferda Valdrova!”
The music ceased, and everyone bowed their heads toward Ferda. The ladies of the Golden Rose began to whisper incessantly.
“So that is Regent Ferda Valdrova.”
“He’s just as young and handsome as the rumors said…”
Perhaps it was due to his unique aura, but more than a few of the young ladies felt a flutter in their hearts they had never experienced with men their own age. At the same time, they stole glances at Olivia. They wanted to see with their own eyes whether the gossip was true.
Olivia remained flawless. She maintained the same professional smile she wore for any other man.
Now, he will give the opening speech.
It was a speech she had written herself. Drawing on her experience with countless social gatherings, she had crafted the perfect address, carefully considering the age and status of the audience. Now, it was up to Ferda to deliver it.
The speech began. The moment he opened his mouth, the surprises started.
His precise, mage-like diction combined with his solemn demeanor to create a commanding presence that would put professional orators to shame.
The rumors that he moved those old men in the Grand Council weren't exaggerations.
Olivia felt a twinge of self-reproach for how she had merely imagined him giving the speech. She found herself envisioning something more: that man reigning as a new Emperor, having cast aside the Emperor of Arken. The thought made her heart race.
The speech concluded to a thunderous round of applause. Olivia clapped along and returned to the Golden Rose. The young ladies were flushed as they discussed Ferda.
“Isn't the Regent truly magnificent?”
“I know. If he didn't already have a fiancée, I’d be tempted to try and seduce him myself.”
Between his sophisticated aura and the brilliant speech, he had thoroughly captured their hearts. Olivia found herself strangely displeased by their reactions, even though everything was going exactly as she had intended.
“Oh my, he’s coming this way.”
The ladies began to tuck their hair back and act refined, pretending to be deep in conversation among themselves.
“Thank you for your assistance with the Start of Spring Festival,” Ferda said, offering his gratitude to Olivia.
“Not at all. It was my honor to be of help,” she replied.
“Then, I hope you enjoy the rest of the evening.”
The two exchanged cool, formal greetings and nothing more. The young ladies looked as if they couldn't believe their eyes. Olivia tilted her head innocently and asked them, “Is something the matter?”
“No, it’s nothing.”
It was hardly "nothing." Their heads were likely filled with thoughts of the scandal. If there had been even a hint of tension, they would have had plenty to gossip about, but there was absolutely nothing. Now that she had planted the seeds of doubt, time would naturally cause their interest to wither.
“Come to think of it, the Regent didn't smile even once.”
“I thought he might at least share a smile if he were with someone he was close to.”
Of course he wouldn't, Olivia retorted inwardly.
That man’s smile was different from the cheap grins men spat out when overwhelmed by their own impulses. His smile was something even Olivia had never seen. Did it not possess the ultimate value, forged from pure affection?
Olivia was pleased. The fact that she alone knew the value of that smile meant she was different from these fools chasing after a man’s coattails. It was a moment that reaffirmed just how noble he was.
The ball began. Drones began to swarm toward the flowers, and Olivia was no exception. Bees who didn't know their place came flying in.
“It is a pleasure to meet you. Though I am unworthy, I would like to request a dance with the Imperial Princess—”
“Oh, how about a dance with me instead?”
“Pardon?”
“Come along, now!”
Before the man could reach Olivia, another young lady snatched his hand and dragged the dazed nobleman onto the dance floor. The way they swallowed up the bees swarming the Golden Rose was akin to a Venus flytrap. This was the Golden Rose’s method—matching people up until it led to an engagement.
I should get ready.
Ferda was scheduled to approach her after the first dance. Then, Olivia would refuse him. Everyone would be watching, and the rumors would be put to rest right then and there. Olivia was busy calculating the expression and posture she would maintain.
“Oh?”
“My goodness.”
It was starting again—the fussing of frivolous young ladies. Just as she was about to let out an internal sigh, she heard it.
“The Regent is smiling?”
Smiling?
Wondering what they were talking about, Olivia turned her gaze toward the dance floor. By chance, Ferda immediately came into view. The moment she saw him, the mask she wore instantly cracked.
…He’s actually smiling?
She thought her eyes were playing tricks on her. As the banquet music flowed and couples moved like schools of fish across a lake, she saw Ferda in the midst of them, conversing with a smile. Her eyes reflexively shifted to his partner.
That girl… who is she?
Freckles and black hair. No matter how she looked at her, the girl’s appearance was inferior to her own, and her attire was outdated. She couldn't be Valdrova. As far as Olivia knew, Valdrova’s human form was a woman with red hair and two pairs of horns. This meant Ferda was approaching some random extra just for the sake of their scenario.
And yet.
Why is he smiling like that?
It was strange. She was the one who had danced with him for much longer. Even after four hours of dancing, he hadn't smiled once.
Not at her.
Not even once.
Olivia reflexively unfurled her folding fan to cover her mouth. The mask near her lips had shattered. In her state of confusion, Olivia tried to analyze herself objectively.
Am I… jealous?
No. That was impossible. Ferda loved Valdrova. Olivia cherished that love. It was because she valued that pure devotion that she admired Ferda—as a god who could move her heart.
…I see.
She was angry because he had lied. He had acted as if he were different from other men, but in the end, he was just the same. The reason he was generous with his smiles for others but not for her…
It was because he knew she was special.
He intended to keep me in the palm of his hand like that…
Yes. That was it. He was just like every other man after all.
The music stopped. Ferda exchanged bows with that hussy and turned away. He began walking toward her, exactly as Olivia had scripted.
Olivia acknowledged what was about to happen. What she was about to do was an impromptu act, not part of the plan. It was an act driven by emotion. Yet, even knowing that, she couldn't stop herself. Only one sentence repeated in her mind.
“I shall.”
You deserve to be punished.
* * *
Ferda was suddenly thrust into a bewildering situation just as everything was proceeding according to plan.
What is she doing?
He was supposed to ask for a dance, and she was supposed to refuse. But contrary to the scenario she had laid out, she had accepted his request. Ferda wasn't the only one surprised. The young ladies, who had been certain of a rejection, couldn't even hide their wide eyes behind their fans as they looked back and forth between the two.
What on earth is she trying to achieve?
Olivia was cold and analytical. She was more calculating and had better instincts for these things than Ferda. She knew better than anyone that in a scandal, the woman always suffered the most damage. A man could easily find a new woman, but a woman’s reputation was ruined the moment she was branded a temptress. There was no way Olivia didn't know that.
Is there something I’m missing?
He wondered if there was some rational reason he couldn't perceive. He needed an explanation.
“Will you escort me?”
Olivia held out her silk-gloved hand. He had to take it. He had to dance with her here. He had to, and yet…
At the same time, his heart felt heavy, as if he were committing a terrible sin. That weight clashed with his sense of duty, making his hand falter. Was it right to take her hand and dance here? Just as he was about to place his hand on hers—
“Show your respect!”
A thunderous voice rang out. The one who spoke was not an official sent from the Empire, but Ruri. She, who usually never interfered in human banquets, now dominated the hall. There was only one reason she would step forward like this.
The arrival of Valdrova.
“Her Grace, the Archduchess, has arrived!”
The doors swung open. Ferda couldn't believe his eyes. It wasn't the dragon armor he had seen so many times in the castle.
She stood about 160 centimeters tall. She had red hair and two pairs of horns. She wore a magnificent dress of crimson and gold that perfectly complemented her hair. She walked gracefully across the carpet. Everyone bowed their heads, showing respect and awe to the immortal being.
Ferda watched her, utterly entranced. It felt as if he were having an audience with a goddess of beauty. As Valdrova walked down the carpet, her path veered toward Ferda. She walked straight toward him.
“…….”
Valdrova, standing right in front of Ferda, did not speak. Instead, she quietly held out her hand. The hostess was asking the host for a dance.
Ferda’s predicament intensified. Olivia had just requested a dance. According to etiquette, he should put Valdrova second. But if he said that now, it felt as if that hand suspended in the air would fall into a void of despair.
“I hope you have a pleasant time with Her Grace,” Olivia said, stepping back gracefully.
Ferda took Valdrova’s hand. She was doing the very thing she had always feared. Her grip was perfectly controlled. He could tell how much grueling training she must have gone through to master that control. He escorted her to the dance floor.
Ferda carefully placed his hand on her. He felt the warmth of her soft hand. And the trembling. Even though they were only holding hands, Ferda realized something. Valdrova knew about the gossip involving Olivia.
I see.
Her coming here wasn't an act of courage performed before a crowd. She had been driven out of her sanctuary by the emotion of anxiety. And the source of that anxiety was undoubtedly something Ferda had created.
I have hurt her.
Guilt gnawed at him. The voice of the Shadow Circle whispered in his ear, mocking him with a laugh as if there was nothing more to be said. Even though the moment he had desired most had finally arrived, Ferda could feel no joy. He could only worry about what expression she was wearing behind that mask.
I have to keep the beat…
He couldn't hear the music, and his steps kept faltering. It was the same for Valdrova. Their chemistry was disastrous; they constantly stepped on each other's toes.
A hellish minute passed, and then another, until the song finally ended. They were supposed to let go and bow, but Valdrova did not release his hand. Instead, she stood on her tiptoes and whispered into Ferda’s ear.
“…Mr. Ferda.”
Ferda’s heart plummeted. It wasn't her voice through the modulator, but her actual voice. That trembling sound carried the dampness of early morning dew.
“Please, speak.”
“This hand… you mustn't… let go.”
She pleaded desperately.
“I… I don't know where I might run to right now. If you let go of this hand… I will surely show a side of myself unbecoming of a ruler. I might… bring shame upon you, Mr. Ferda.”
Her voice, lacking all confidence, began to tremble violently. Ferda knew exactly what he had to say.
“I will lead you.”
Ferda gripped her hand tightly and walked out of the banquet hall with her. He didn't offer a single greeting to the guests. Etiquette and reputation no longer mattered.