Masquerade Ball (2)
The joy of victory in the subjugation battle was short-lived. Time flew by in an instant, and before they knew it, the sun had tucked itself under the earth like a blanket.
That meant the ball was right around the corner.
"D-Discipleee...!!"
"Let go already...!!"
It felt like being a cow dragged to the slaughterhouse. Ashu was struggling to pry her off as she clung desperately to his clothes.
'But if I get dragged away...'
She'd be done for. Utterly doomed.
She could see the maids the prince had brought smirking sinisterly behind him.
"Eek...!"
Her face would be hidden by the mask, sure, but her body and hair? They'd toy with her mercilessly.
'Me... in a dress?'
Absurd. The mere thought was horrifying.
"Why are you hating this so much?!" Ashu pressed down on her head, trying to push her away.
To think her disciple wouldn't help his master in crisis but try to abandon her instead! What a rotten pupil, selling out Confucian virtues.
"You nodded along just fine earlier!"
"Th-That was then...!"
As she whined and clung tighter, Ashu's face started flushing red.
Plop.
"Eek!"
"I'm out."
Finally, Ashu shook off his leech of a master. He bolted away before she could even chase after him.
'...Fast only when it suits him, damn it!'
"Well then, honored guest?"
Her head creaked around at the chilling voice from behind.
The two maids the prince had brought wore wicked grins, like mad scientists eyeing an intriguing corpse.
"H-Hiiik...!"
She backed away unsteadily, but they closed in right away. Their eyes burned with fervor.
"Then let's begin the makeover."
"S-Sorry, but could we maybe skip...?"
"No can do."
"O-Okay..."
In the end, she was forced to submit.
...And that was how she ended up in this lewd—nay, downright obscene—dress.
"This is basically walking pornography..."
More skin than fabric showed in the mirror. A black silk-style dress, trendy in the capital, they said.
'...It's just a beauty salon tank top look!!'
She couldn't fathom the author's intentions. In medieval Europe, skirts should drag on the floor, right? Why design something like this?
Glancing back, the culprits—the maids—flashed thumbs-ups with utterly satisfied faces.
'Sure, my hair bounces nicely now, and it does look different...'
But did it have to change in this direction?
"Um, uh, any other outfits maybe?"
"Sorry. This is all we brought."
"...And the ones behind you?"
"Oh, this one?"
She nodded, and the maids lifted it up.
"If you'd prefer, you can change into this."
"Hiiik...!!"
Her tail metaphorically tucked between her legs. She'd stick with what she had on. That thing wasn't clothing. It was something less than clothing...
'...I really want to die.'
She'd regretted coming north countless times, but never as much as now. Clutching her trembling heart, she headed for the ballroom.
"You're late."
Ashu tapped his foot irritably on the ground. He'd finished preparing ages ago and had been waiting at the ballroom entrance for a solid 30 minutes.
'...Damn prince.'
[No one was gonna do your makeover anyway.]
It stung, but it was true. The ducal household treated him like a half-invisible ghost.
'Unless it risks the family name, that is.'
Even his father was the same. So when the man had shaken his hand with a smile today, it felt like a dream. Unbelievable. The same guy who'd always sneered or ignored him, smiling?
A pang tightened in his chest.
'But maybe just because people were watching.'
He'd hoped otherwise, but the household's attitude hadn't changed. Nothing different.
'...Hypocrite.'
[No one in your ducal household was gonna doll you or your sister up anyway?]
The prince's smug grin flashed in his mind.
"We can go now."
"Understood."
The maids behind her nodded and vanished. The prince's handiwork—they'd sculpted her from head to toe. The madness in their eyes had even made Ashu hesitate.
'Gotta be that level of crazy to be royal.'
Royals always had something off about them. Ashu thought something Ideal would scoff at: 'You saying that?'
"Anyway, when's she coming?"
Boredom was setting in. She was still as airheaded as ever.
'...No way?'
Nah. No assassin would crash a ball, right? Insane.
'Escort Knight.'
The assassin crumpled beside Ideal. Still didn't make sense. He'd endured plenty of contempt and hatred, but why target him?
'I didn't tell anyone, just in case.'
A full knight-level asset vanished without a word, yet the household was too peaceful.
'Nearly got me killed.'
And Ideal's lips...
Steam practically shot from his ears at the memory. Ashu cleared his throat awkwardly, shoving it aside. It was an unavoidable accident.
But what was with that elixir appearing from thin air? Doubts were piling up when—
"...That guy."
A familiar face approached from afar. It stomped up and exploded in fury.
"You bastard...!!"
Built like Ashu, same age, vaguely similar looks. This guy was—
"—Who were you again?"
"What...?!"
The man froze like he'd been struck.
"Sorry, I forget faces quick."
"...Sihan."
"Ah, right."
Sihan Kan Hart's face twisted in rage. Even with masks, not recognizing him? Classic burn.
"Next time, I'll make you remember my name...!!"
"Ah, right."
"I'm heading in first!!"
"Ah, right."
Sihan stormed past irritably. What a noisy punk. How do you memorize someone after one glance? And he wasn't even superior in skill.
'The prince is the weirdo.'
That smug face still boiled his blood.
"...Seriously, when's she coming?"
Almost everyone was inside, yet here he was, still waiting.
'Did something happen?'
Should he go look? As he pondered seriously, a familiar silhouette appeared in the distance.
Familiar shape. But... different somehow. He couldn't pinpoint how yet.
But as Ideal drew closer, Ashu forgot to speak. No—his gaping mouth wouldn't close.
Her translucent skin glowed softly in the moonlight. Flesh peeked shyly through the fabric. Shoulders faintly flushed with embarrassment. Her signature fidgety demeanor. And the clinging silk dress laid bare her violently curvaceous lines, unfiltered.
"D-Disciple...?"
Ideal's eyes widened slightly.
"Oh, you haven't gone in yet? Took forever..."
Ashu couldn't utter a word. He just stared blankly, eyes trailing her.
Ideal tilted her head at his expression.
'What's with the kid.'
Broken or something? She waved a hand in front of his face, and he finally snapped to.
"Y-You...!!"
Ashu flailed wildly.
"What the hell is that outfit...!!"
"H-Huh?"
"Who the hell made you wear...!"
Ashu's blazing eyes darted around. He spotted the maids smirking contentedly behind her, their skin practically glowing with wish-fulfillment bliss.
"Then we'll be off."
They bowed crisply and departed without lingering.
"Haa..."
Ashu rubbed his temples like his head ached.
"Who wears a dress like that?"
"Th-They said it's the latest trend...?"
"Who says...!!"
Wait, no. Thinking back, most of the women heading in wore similar.
'...But not on her.'
It pissed him off seeing Ideal like this. Fine if it was just for him, but other guys seeing? Made his mood foul.
"I-I didn't wanna wear it either...!! I even asked if I could skip the dress...!!"
"Enough."
Ashu shrugged off his outer coat and draped it over her shoulders like a cape.
Ideal blinked, then covered her mouth in.
"D-Disciple. Don't tell me... you're worried I'll be cold...?"
"...Shut up and go in."
"Heh heh, so shy."
Ideal let out a weird chuckle. Ashu shoved her forward forcibly.
Gleaming chandeliers. A floor embroidered like fine tapestry. Faint music mingled with lively chatter.
The ball had begun.
"D-Disciple, blood's not circulating here..."
"..."
With the outer coat on, places that shouldn't jiggle did. Ashu finally snatched it back from Ideal and entered the ballroom.
...The real ball was starting.