5. Nobility
“Sir Kingston.”
Shaylin called his name affectionately as she handed him the vial of purple potion. Gophrid accepted it with one corner of his mouth curling up.
“Sir Ballot, go inform His Highness the Crown Prince that I’ll visit him shortly, then return here at once. Lady Loren must be escorted to my quarters in the palace. From tonight onward, she’ll stay with me in the palace rather than the Loren family residence.”
Ballot bowed immediately and headed toward the banquet hall. Gophrid, watching his retreating figure, turned and offered the potion to Evril, who leaned against the wall by the door.
“I asked Lady Pratt for it because I thought you’d need it tonight.”
Evril took it reluctantly, and his golden eyes darkened as he glared at her.
“I desperately want a child with ash-brown hair like yours, but I worry it might lead to premarital pregnancy—scandal in society or a stain on your honor.”
Under Gophrid’s coercive gaze, Evril twisted open the small vial in her hand. As he watched, she slowly drank the purple Infertile Potion. The potion was infamous not just for its reliable effects, but for its intensely bitter taste.
Shaylin, standing by the door, scanned the lounge while Evril grimaced at the lingering bitterness in her mouth. A faint but dense, intimate scent tickled her nose. As a virgin, Shaylin flushed slightly upon realizing what it meant. Pretending not to notice, she quickly surveyed the room with sharp eyes.
Gophrid watched with an intrigued expression as her gaze lingered briefly under the curtain. When their eyes met after she finished her scan, he addressed Evril, still leaning against the wall.
“By the way, did you spot someone you know in the banquet hall earlier, my lady?”
“....”
As Evril remained silent, rolling only her eyes, Gophrid continued calmly.
“During the ball, you kept glancing toward the back of the hall. I couldn’t help wondering if you have acquaintances in Templton.”
At his low-voiced question, Evril shook her head without a word. She had only a suspicion that he knew of Olens’s presence—nothing she could say to him. Speaking rashly would put her at a disadvantage.
Then Shaylin spoke up in a bright voice. “Why would she know some nobody gathered under the front dais—not even high nobles? At an imperial ball, the truly noble cluster nobly before the emperor’s dais, while those excluded must accept contempt and disdain as lowly beings lingering at the back. Anyone loitering there is surely some low-rank noble not worth the time or effort—especially not from Templton, and certainly not someone Lady Loren would know. Right, Miss Evril?”
Shaylin asked as if seeking confirmation. Inside the curtain, Olens had heard not just the earlier events, but the entire conversation in the room vividly. He listened intently for Evril’s reply.
“....Yes.”
Evril’s low response came through. Hearing it, Shaylin turned to Gophrid with a cheerful voice.
“Perhaps it was just the covetous stares of someone captivated by her radiant beauty that bothered her? Miss Evril’s natural allure, wrapped in the authority she’ll wield as the next duchess, is dazzling even to look upon. It overwhelms me, and I’m the closest to her—a fellow woman. Imagine how she must shine to others. Especially to some provincial low noble lacking refinement, with little exposure to society and a narrow worldview, ignorant of his station. He’d overreach without knowing better. The lavish imperial ball itself must have thrilled him, and within it, Miss Evril’s solitary brilliance would be impossible to ignore. It’s all because of her captivating beauty—unfair to blame only his wandering eyes.”
Gophrid replied to Shaylin in a cold voice. “However, if that ignorant, brazen gaze lands on a woman of House Kingston, his tragic lack of taste might provoke my anger. I believe he should objectively assess his own clueless self, recognize his evident folly at once, and withdraw his presumptuous interest. If not....”
His golden eyes sharpened deeply.
“He’ll learn the harsh cost afterward. That not coveting another’s woman is basic common sense for some—a lesson he might painfully acquire, wasting precious life and twisting his path. Fortunately, strictly speaking, you’re not yet fully a woman of House Kingston until the wedding, so my rights haven’t been gravely infringed. Thus, cold reason holds back my rage.”
Gophrid finished his low warning and stared at Evril. Feeling his icy gaze, she flinched, her rigid shoulders shrinking.
“As Sir Kingston’s fiancée, it’s truly reassuring to hear such passionate devotion. I’ve always envied Miss Evril for receiving her fiancé’s unwavering attention and support without reserve.”
Shaylin cast her eyes downward with a wry smile, her expression seeming to lament her own position as a countess’s daughter without a fiancé or betrothed, to others’ eyes. Then, as if struck by a sudden thought, her eyes sparkled with life.
“Oh, what I mentioned earlier—please hear it after your audience with His Highness the Crown Prince.”
Shaylin lifted her gaze and spoke softly to Gophrid. As his golden eyes narrowed in thought while regarding her, Ballot reappeared at the door, having returned from the banquet hall.
“We must go now. I hate to interrupt your pleasant time, but as you see, Miss Evril isn’t well. We’ll have to share our detailed impressions of the ball and intimate friendship tomorrow.”
“Oh, I need to check on my brother Sir Pratt and return to the hall anyway. Might I ask for an escort?”
Shaylin placed her hand on Gophrid’s courteously extended arm and said to Ballot.
“Sir Ballot, Lady Loren must tidy her appearance before moving, so please wait outside. Showing up like that would draw unwelcome attention from society.”
Ballot nodded politely. As Shaylin and Gophrid left the lounge, he cast a courteous glance at Evril and said,
“Lady Loren, I’ll wait outside while you prepare. I’ll have the carriage ready shortly.”
―Click.
The door closed, leaving Evril finally alone. She lifted her head to stare at the curtain in the window corner. The thick velvet swayed, and through the parted gap, Olens emerged. His plaster-statue face stared down at her with unmoving, pale eyes.
Evril met his gaze wordlessly, biting her lower lip. Olens’s light brown eyes, silently fixed on her, held an intensity that stole her breath. He had the eyes of a dangerous man—sharp blades lurking within the cold stare, almost wounded in appearance.
After a long silence, he gazed down at her with eyes that seemed to burn even in darkness and spoke.
“......See you in the summer.”
Evril’s lips parted as if to reply, but a polite knock from outside interrupted her.
“Lady Loren, the carriage is ready. It’s time to go.”
Evril quickly smoothed her dress hem. She glanced at Olens, took a deep breath, and exited the room. Following Sir Ballot down the corridor, she prayed not to encounter any society acquaintances. Fortunately, the hall was quiet.
Under Sir Ballot’s guidance, Evril boarded the waiting carriage at the base of the stairs at the corridor’s end.
Shaylin stood by the banquet hall’s side door, gazing at the empty corridor. With the ball in full swing, exhausted guests filled the lounges, leaving few wandering the halls. As Evril vanished at the far end, the door to Lounge 27 opened moments later.
Olens emerged, pale with rage. Watching his slow-receding figure, Shaylin’s eyes narrowed. The performance was perfect. Seeing him marred by profound humiliation and icy fury, she decided to play her trump card.