Chapter 182
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 182
“I have only come to escort my partner, Your Imperial Highness.”
In an instant, the surroundings fell as silent as if a bucket of ice water had been poured over the crowd.
The ceiling was impossibly high.
Pure white marble pillars were carved with undulating patterns that resembled crashing waves. The walls, lavishly draped in the finest silver silk, emitted a subtle luster, and the fresh flowers arranged throughout the hall were intoxicatingly fragrant.
In this special banquet hall of the Imperial Palace—a place that was luxurious without being gaudy and glorious without being vulgar—I found myself in a fresh predicament.
Wow, what a mess.
A place so beautiful it was blinding.
And two men, a thousand times more stunning than their surroundings, were facing off with me caught in the middle.
It was a situation any lady might dream of at least once, but I felt neither shy nor triumphant. I was simply struck by a renewed sense of realization.
I guess there really isn't a single route where these two don't fight.
Does peace just not exist for them? Is their character setting "must want to kill each other on sight" or something?
As expected, 'The Milk Bread' never misses.
I quickly assessed the situation. Ferdinand’s turn was over anyway, and it was time to prepare for the next dance. This meant it was only natural for Benjamin to come for me.
“Your Imperial Highness.”
Looking at Ferdinand, I lifted the dance card tied to my waist with a ribbon and showed it to him. At the mention of his title, the Crown Prince, who had been staring intently at me, shifted his gaze to the card.
“I was so busy ‘looking up’ at Your Highness throughout our dance that I didn't get a chance to tell you. My next dance partner is Prince Benjamin.”
The comment about looking up at Ferdinand the entire time was intentional. I wanted the numerous nobles watching the confrontation between Benjamin and Ferdinand with bated breath to focus once more on Ferdinand’s "sudden growth."
I wanted their minds to get complicated all over again.
This was a gathering of countless aristocrats. The vast majority of them had once looked down on Ferdinand. Ignoring him was a daily occurrence, and contempt was the baseline. Backstabbing gossip was just a bonus.
Since they were those kinds of people, how would they feel seeing Ferdinand now, transformed into someone so flawlessly perfect?
Terrified.
Smitten.
Or perhaps driven to the brink of insanity.
It had to be one of those three.
Time for a 'noble regret' arc, right?
Except for me. I lined up behind the Crown Prince a long time ago.
It was just as I was chuckling darkly to myself.
“I see,” Ferdinand said curtly.
Perhaps it was the timing, but his response was so perfectly placed it felt as if he were answering my wicked inner thoughts. In reality, he was likely responding after confirming my dance card.
“My apologies, Lady Tulia Frezier.”
His attitude was unexpectedly polite. Even the way he let go of my hand looked like a fiancé treating a precious bride-to-be, making me feel strange for a moment.
But that feeling was fleeting.
Ferdinand’s gaze quickly moved away from me and toward the space behind me—or more accurately, beside me.
“Then, I shall come to collect you again later.”
It was a single sentence that threw a massive amount of bait to the nobles watching us.
Ferdinand even turned around and walked away with steady strides, as if he had no other purpose or goal besides me.
Even when he suffered from Cupid’s Disease, the nobles hadn't dared to act recklessly to his face. His status as Crown Prince was one thing, but Ferdinand’s gaze had always been chillingly cold.
So, what about now, when he looked like an angel descended from the heavens?
The crowd simply parted for him like the Red Sea.
Seeing the eyes that had once kept him at a distance now filled with awe made me feel like everything was ridiculous and stupid.
If I felt this way, how did Ferdinand feel?
To him, those precious "blue bloods" must seem even more trivial and pathetic. Perhaps, to him, this whole thing felt like a farce.
Wait, why am I more worried about him now that he’s grown up?
Back when he was little and getting beaten by the Empress, he’d still glare back with fierce energy, so I wasn't this concerned...
“Did His Highness just...?”
“Lady Tulia Frezier...”
“He said he’d come back...”
A beat late, I heard the nobles whispering.
Seeing the gazes openly focused on me, my eyebrows twitched upward. Since they were too scared to talk to Ferdinand, they seemed to be hoping I’d say something to help them interpret the Crown Prince’s intentions.
Their demanding stares were annoying, but since Benjamin was beside me, I intended to just ignore them and move on.
However...
“Lady Tulia Frezier, what did the Crown Prince just say to you?”
A young lord boldly blocked my path, speaking with a smile.
“Won't you share it with us as well?”
Seeing a few guys snickering behind him, it seemed they’d made some sort of bet regarding me, and the "bravest" among them had been chosen to ask me directly.
I didn't say a word. I didn't react. I just stared at them blankly.
There was only one reason. I wanted to see how long they’d keep laughing.
“...”
“...”
“...”
About three minutes passed.
Their laughter, which had been slowly dying down, stopped completely.
I didn't look embarrassed, I didn't smile, and I didn't try to leave the spot in awkwardness. I just stood there like a giant man-eating monster, staring them down.
They seemed to realize belatedly that something was wrong. Their eyes darted around anxiously. The one in front finally spoke up, looking like he wanted to flee.
“Uh, well... Lady Tulia Frezier...”
“Shut it.”
“...Pardon?”
“I said, shut your trap.”
“Uh, well...”
He looked around in a panic, but no one came to his aid.
Right. I suppose I’ve looked a bit docile lately, haven't I?
In the original The Milk Bread, there wasn't a single soul brave enough to snicker at Tulia like this. But I must have looked different recently.
Even after coming to the Imperial Capital for the White Tulip business, I only attended quiet tea parties filled with noblewomen. Rumors change based on one's actions. To a few brainless fools, the "new" me must have looked like an easy target.
To put it another way...
These bastards have lost their minds.
How dare they?
To me?
To Tulia Frezier, of all people?
To the official crazy, psycho, trash of this game?
I took a step forward.
“Gah!”
“Oh. My mistake. I couldn't see where I was stepping.”
I walked right over him, deliberately grinding my heel into the top of his foot, and gave him a loathsome smile. Then, I made as if to turn around.
Crunch.
“AAAAAAAGH!”
I simply drove my heel into his thigh.
Clutching his thigh—which now likely had a hole in it—the young lord rolled around on the floor.
“Y-You crazy...!”
Hah. Young men really are full of vigor, aren't they?
He seemed to have exploded with enough rage to momentarily forget that I was the Grand Duke’s granddaughter. Just as he looked ready to spring up and confront me, he froze instinctively.
Huh?
I did the same. It was because of Benjamin’s hand, which had moved to block my path.
“...”
Only then did I realize that Benjamin’s gaze was incredibly cold.
That look, as frigid as a glacier, was pinned on the young lord who had been about to lung at me in his loss of reason.
But that, too, was brief.
“Lady Tulia Frezier.”
I felt a touch as firm as rock grasp my hand.
“Shall we go?”
As if the chilling gaze I’d just seen was a mere illusion, the eyes looking down at me were shining like sweet honey.
“I have a great many things I wish to say to you, My Lady.”
Before giving him an answer, I glanced at the frozen young lord. The cronies who had been snickering behind him had long since turned pale and were slinking away, pretending not to know him.
“Very well.”
There was nothing to gain from stomping on someone who was already down. Besides, the surrounding area was buzzing even louder now. Even royalty from other kingdoms, drawn by the commotion, were watching Benjamin.
A great many things to say. That sounds quite ominous.
If you think about it, that statement was about the same scale as the nuclear bomb Ferdinand had just dropped.
Thinking it was quite impressive how Benjamin could remain so composed, I walked away under his escort. The nobles, who had been standing there with dazed expressions, quickly and politely cleared a path for us.
“You are soft-hearted.”
“...?”
At the whispered words, I lifted my head.
“Me?”
“Yes.”
“I’m not, though?”
“That’s how it looks to my eyes.”
Benjamin, looking down at me, was now wearing a smile. Perhaps because of the slight playfulness in his expression, he looked a bit younger than before.
He looked exactly like the male lead from The Milk Bread—the one I’d seen on my screen while working part-time as Han Ina, while eating alone, and right before falling asleep. The one who seemed like an idle playboy on the outside but was full of shyness on the inside.
And so.
It was only much later that I learned that the family of the young lord whose foot I’d crushed (I never even learned his name) was forced to leave the Imperial Capital in a hurry because their territory’s finances suddenly collapsed.
Furthermore, I learned that it was Benjamin who had quietly dismantled that young lord’s merchant guild.