Darkhood Masquerade and the Princes' Wager

Lancel stared blankly at the scene unfolding before him.

"What the hell is this?"

"Phew, made it just in time."

"Look here! Isn't the food ready yet? I skipped meals rushing over—I'm starving!"

"Oh my, what are you touching so lewdly?"

"I didn't touch anything! Why drag an innocent guy into this?!"

"Um, there's no place to park the carriage... where should I go?"

Baron Ivil Shen's mansion brimmed with masked nobles and tycoons. Even now, lavish carriages streamed endlessly to the entrance, packing the interior and gardens to the brim. Easily a few hundred people, and with their attendants and servants, it surpassed a thousand without effort.

...This is supposed to be a secret organization?

Lancel let out a scoffing laugh.

It wasn't a secret organization. This was...

"Man, what kind of social gathering draws this huge crowd? Never seen my place this packed before!"

Baron Ivil Shen's mouth stretched from ear to ear. Hosting such a grand social party in his own home had instantly puffed up the parvenu who'd only ever heard jeers.

In truth, even now, Lancel had no clue what Darkhood was about. But one thing was crystal clear: it wasn't a secret organization. On the surface, it was just a "social club," as the baron said. The kind of faction every court had—a gathering, a clique. That's all it felt like.

"Where the hell did Marygold run off to in this chaos?"

"If we catch her, make her do an extra month of chores. Yeah."

The maids searched for Marygold amid the frenzy. Lancel had already spotted her nearby.

"Hello, sir."

Her golden hair neatly braided, a red party dress, a white mask covering her eyes and nose. It was Marygold.

"First time at the assembly? If you'd like, may I escort you?"

Before Lancel could reply, Marygold hooked her arm through his, pressing close as if afraid he'd slip away. She clearly knew it was him. No matter the mask, that familiar silhouette was unmistakable.

She hadn't seemed to realize her own identity was exposed, though.

"Heh heh heh."

Marygold. One mask and you're blatantly clinging like this.

"We're already close."

"So what? This is normal. Everyone else is doing it, right?"

Anyone could see that wasn't true.

"Want one of these? Here, say 'ahh.' I'll feed you special. Come on, ahh~"

As Marygold tried shoving a canapé into his mouth, Lancel countered by stuffing a cookie in hers instead. She choked, coughing crudely. "Kek, hack!"

"Guh."

Chewing and swallowing hastily, Marygold opened her mouth again.

"I was gonna feed you..."

"Some party, huh."

"Right?!"

Marygold's face lit up instantly, smug somehow.

"What do you think? Darkhood's assembly. Impressive, right? Amazing, huh? No idea who started it, but it's huge!"

"...Honestly, didn't expect this many people."

"Ehehe, right? I was shocked too! Feels like ten times more than last time."

"Ten times?"

"Yeah!"

"You didn't notice until it grew tenfold?"

"Huh?"

Lancel's question carried an undercurrent: You made this world, remember?

"Last I checked, it was around thirty people. But today? Exploded."

"...?"

He glanced toward the party hall. It swarmed with people.

"At least a few hundred. You're sure it was really thirty?"

"Yeah. Thirty? Thirty-one? Definitely that. It's a secret organization, after all."

"...You've been around since the early days, then?"

"Yeees?"

Marygold yelped loudly, then clapped a hand over her mouth.

"Ah! No, not like that! Just rumors! Yeah, rumors!"

"A secret organization with rumors spreading..."

"Ah, ahh! Not rumors, um, that thing, uh, th-that..."

She racked her brain. No excuse came.

Finally, Lancel took pity.

"If the group's size ballooned tenfold overnight, there must be a reason. Anything come to mind?"

"Hm... They give out merchant guild shares if nobles bring referrals. Not me! The leader! Lady Lemon Verbena! You know her? The mage who always shows as a raven? Yeah!"

"Pyramid scheme."

"Huh?"

Marygold's face went blank. Not entirely unexpected.

Yeah. No way she built this massive social club on her own.

Money and a bit of black magic couldn't scale this. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Her home auto-farm, left spinning idly, had snowballed beyond her wildest dreams.

But Lemon Verbena as head? Confirmed.

Lancel shivered faintly. Reason didn't matter. What counted: this vast social club's owner was Marygold now. Tonight's party was her doing.

And among the guests...

Two princes.

Lancel spotted them easily. How could he miss nobles swarming them? They weren't even hiding.

"What a shame. Darkhood's already tapped out, huh? Lowlifes crashing the party. Always ruins the fun."

2nd Prince Arwen filed his nails, glancing sideways. 3rd Prince Yuri's lips twisted in a sneer.

"Came to see the face of the guy mooning over Coral day and night. As expected, no surprises. Sis won't let it slide."

2nd and 3rd Princes. Infamously at odds among the royals. Tension crackled around them like thin ice.

"Who are those guys always bickering? Ruining the vibe I worked hard to set."

Marygold whispered in his ear. Lancel was momentarily speechless.

You don't even know who they are?

Marygold. No, Lemon Verbena. How the hell did you build this?

"Brothers often don't get along."

Lancel replied calmly.

"You... have brothers too, right?"

No intent to hide her knowledge, Marygold. Info only a regressor would know spilled freely.

"...Yeah. Three in the Imperial Knights. Haven't seen them in ages—distance and all."

"So you're the baby bro?"

"Youngest, yeah."

Recalling his brothers, Lancel shook his head.

"But I think I hit adulthood first."

"Really?"

Marygold seemed disinterested in his answer. Clinging close under anonymity's excuse—that was her goal.

"Ehehe, hehe."

"...You seem pleased."

"Just am."

"..."

Her arm was sweaty against his.

This isn't why you called me here, right?

As Lancel smirked, the princes' spat continued.

"Lame excuse. Just admit it: I'm the loser little bro trailing superior big bro out of inferiority."

"No idea who you mean. Inferiority? Toward a lesser brother?"

"How else to put it? Emotions of a bro who's never beaten big bro."

3rd Prince's eyes sharpened.

"Don't fabricate, brother. Who said I've never won?"

"Facts."

"...Fine. Settle it here? I'll prove I win."

"Ruin the party?"

"Who ruined it first?"

2nd Prince Arwen chuckled, rising.

"Fun."

Curved lips, but eyes ice-cold.

"Here's the deal. I lose? I kneel, apologize as the pathetic brother. You lose...?"

"Fine. Name it."

3rd Prince Yuri stood too.

"Anything goes."

"Anything... then."

Pondering, 2nd Prince grinned, scanning the room.

"Lemon Verbena!"

"Eek!"

Marygold flinched.

"Lemon Verbena watching somewhere in this house—you decide. Fair?"

"Fine. As host, she qualifies."

"Hear that, Lemon Verbena?"

Marygold's eyes darted wildly. The spotlight hit her; her face froze.

"Come out and judge!"

All eyes turned to wherever Lemon Verbena hid.

12.

"Hiiik..."

Lancel eyed Marygold clinging to him. Cold sweat beaded her trembling forehead.

Knew it. Play too much, end up like this.

"We know you're here. Pick something. Come on, don't dodge."

What now, Marygold?

"Still hiding? Show yourself."

Thump. Thump. Her heartbeat pounded beside him.

Just toss 'em a toy.

Then Lancel recalled something. He whispered to her alone.

"If."

"...?"

"I were Lemon Verbena, I'd do this. For example..."

Marygold's wits snapped back.

"Why the delay?"

2nd Prince spoke again.

-Shwaaak!

Murmurs rippled. At the hall's center, a massive raven unfurled two wings.

Cawwww!

"Ooh, it's out."

"Lemon Verbena's raven!"

The beak parted. A modulated voice boomed.

If you insist, I'll decide!

Marygold stood eyes closed, senses linked to her familiar.

The man ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠who accepts my proposal at the upcoming Imperial Ball wins.

"..."

"..."

Shocking declaration.

Of course, accepting is your choice.

"...Y-You think we'd... who even are you...?"

I'll drop a hint monthly. Find me, make me want it. That's it.

The princes' faces blanked. The raven dissolved into shadow, vanishing.

No one moved. Not a breath.

"Phew."

Marygold opened her eyes, face flushed, sighing in relief.

You really went for it, Marygold...

Jealousy. Ball. Romance. Princes vying for a woman. Capital nobles ate it up in this romance fantasy.

The hall stirred, vibe shifting palpably.

Princes... publicly dueling over romance?

Whoever finds Lemon Verbena and wins her proposal? That right?

Who even is this mage? Woman? Gotta be, right?

Princes couldn't back out. Quitting first meant loss.

The wager spread across the capital soon enough.

13.

A week later, the letter from Marygold.

Rest easy about what?

Lancel wasn't shocked by her reaction. It made sense—she had reason to worry. Post-party, the capital's air turned bizarre.

Cause: the royals.

What ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the hell is going on?

Marygold sat quietly, manipulating the capital and court.

Yeah. All unbeknownst to her.