The Reason for the Invitation
Lefonya’s mind raced in frantic circles.
If things unfolded like this, they would inevitably ask how she knew him. What on earth was she supposed to say? That they had grown close after he snuck into her bedroom twice in the middle of the night?
They’ll just assume he’s a spy sent by House Villemon.
She had naturally assumed he was merely a servant or a knight’s squire working within the Craitan estate. After all, an outsider should never have been able to wander at will through an estate guarded by two Aura Masters!
How did he even break in?
If he truly was an outsider, wasn’t this a massive security breach? It wasn’t as if the estate’s guard was lax, yet the head of an entirely different ducal house had been sauntering in and out whenever he pleased.
Lefonya furrowed her brow in deep contemplation.
…Should I ask him for tips?
She solemnly resolved that she would definitely have to ask him later how he had managed to slip past the perimeter without getting caught.
Wait, why is he treating me like this in the first place?
It was Ruedeum who had reported her whereabouts to the authorities, and he had come to see her twice after that, going so far as to pat her head and urge her to stay alive. On top of that, he had sent her the very first invitation in the entire Empire to his succession gala, and just moments ago, he had rushed straight over to greet her with a kiss on the back of her hand.
Does he… like me or something?
Lefonya pondered the thought for a second before shaking her head. It was utterly absurd. They had never met socially, nor were they proper acquaintances, so there was no foundation for such feelings to blossom. Moreover, her counterpart was the Duke of Villemon—the youngest duke in imperial history, shoulder to shoulder with the realm’s highest expectations.
Then what on earth is his angle?
Just as Lefonya sank deeper into her confusion, the Duke of Craitan passed her into Felence’s waiting arms and took a commanding stride toward Ruedeum.
“Now that you have taken your place as head of your house, I assume you would care little to be treated like a child, so I shall address you as an equal. But if that frightens you, say so now. I can easily fetch a cup of warm milk and speak to you as though reading a fairy tale.”
“Duke Craitan. You may look youthful on the outside, but you are undoubtedly aging within. If standing is too taxing, please say the word. I shall have my butler bring over a chair so you may enjoy the gala in comfort.”
Lefonya gasped softly.
Watching from behind, she held her breath at the Duke of Craitan’s chilly provocation, then shuddered at Ruedeum’s brazen retort.
Why are they so cutthroat with each other?
Fortunately, the Duke of Craitan seemed rather amused by the young man’s audacity, letting slip a faint smirk.
“Since you and my daughter are unacquainted, pray tell why you sent her the very first invitation and rushed straight here to greet her. My daughter claimed she does not know you at all. Not in the slightest.”
“Ah.”
Ruedeum glanced past the duke’s shoulder toward Lefonya. His golden gaze seemed to ask, ‘Did you tell him you didn’t know me?’
You never told me you were the Duke of Villemon! How could I possibly have known? Lefonya snapped back in her head.
As if reading her thoughts, Ruedeum offered a light smile.
“Unacquainted. Indeed. That is true. We do not know each other at all.”
“Then—”
“Yet is there anyone in the realm who remains ignorant of the Guardian of the Empire, House Craitan?”
“…I am not in the mood for word games.”
“Neither am I. In following the news of the Craitan duchy, I merely heard that a new young lady had been adopted.”
Ruedeum scoffed softly at the Duke of Craitan’s sharp vigilance.
“And? That hardly explains why you sent the very first invitation to my daughter.”
“I sent the invitation to the young lady because this gala could only proceed properly if she attended.”
Ruedeum lowered his voice and cast a subtle glance at the surrounding hall. Taking note of his caution toward the listening nobility, Duke Craitan lowered his voice as well.
“Are you implying that this succession gala would not have taken place had my daughter declined?”
“Precisely.”
R-Really?
Listening nearby, Lefonya felt a jolt of panic. At first, she had seriously considered skipping this succession banquet altogether!
Did I almost ruin his entire gala?
Her eyes darted as she strained her ears to catch every word between Ruedeum and Duke Craitan.
“Surely everyone is aware that someone is rather displeased with my inheriting the ducal seat.”
Ruedeum’s explanation was simple, yet that single remark was enough for the Duke of Craitan to nod in understanding.
“Indeed.”
Having learned about the major aristocratic factions from Pope Pretes, Lefonya had heard about House Villemon as well, allowing her to grasp the situation immediately.
He means the Dowager Duchess of Villemon.
It was an open secret whispered throughout high society. For reasons undisclosed, the once-mighty House of Villemon was currently reduced to just the young master, grandson of the late duke, and the late duke’s widow—the Dowager Duchess. On paper, they might have seemed like a close-knit family, but the Dowager Duchess had never cared for her grandson, Ruedeum Villemon.
Acting as regent in place of the young heir, she had greedily expanded her own influence while neglecting Ruedeum entirely. Now that Ruedeum had pushed past her to formally claim the ducal title, the two were locked in an all-out struggle for supremacy.
“This gala exists to declare to all that I have become the Duke of Villemon,” Ruedeum said in a low voice. His expression was that of a consummate noble—entirely different from the gentle demeanor he had shown when visiting Lefonya.
From that alone, Duke Craitan readily deduced the truth.
“So you invited my daughter to ensure the gala could not be canceled?”
If this gala served to officially proclaim Ruedeum as the Duke of Villemon, the Dowager Duchess would have moved heaven and earth to have it called off.
And the only noble house the Dowager Duchess can't exert pressure on at her whim is—
House Craitan.
“It is an honor to welcome House Craitan as our guests,” Ruedeum replied with polished courtesy, tacitly confirming the duke’s deduction.
So that’s why he sent the invitation to me first. If I accepted, the party was guaranteed to proceed, but if I declined, there would have been no point in sending invitations to the other nobles in the first place.
There had been a rational calculation behind it all along.
“If that were your aim, you could have sent the invitation to my son or to me instead of my daughter.”
At the duke’s words, Ruedeum’s face twisted in mild disgust, as if he had just heard absolute nonsense.
“Had I sent the very first invitation to the young lord or to Your Grace, would I have received an answer? You would have brushed it aside as suspicious.”
“Hmph.”
Duke Craitan did not deny it. Even Felence, who was still holding Lefonya, nodded in silent agreement, conceding that the boy wasn’t wrong.
“Word spread that the young lady was spotted at the capital’s boutique with the second young lord of Craitan, so I presumed she was looking for a suitable party to make her social debut. Was I mistaken?”
Ruedeum’s deduction was eerily accurate.
“Which is why I invited far more nobles than originally planned. And the moment I concluded my speech, I hurried over to greet the young lady, drawing everyone’s attention to her. Was that not satisfactory?”
Was that the reason for that, too?
“Since she chose my succession gala for her official debut, that was the least I could do.”
Arms crossed, Duke Craitan gazed impassively down at Ruedeum. As though he had said all that needed to be said, Ruedeum met the duke’s piercing gaze without wavering in the slightest.
He really has no fear. Well, of course he doesn’t—someone with that much nerve wouldn’t hesitate to break into an estate guarded by two Aura Masters twice.
After studying Ruedeum for a long moment, Duke Craitan finally parted his lips.
“It seems there was a misunderstanding. You have my apologies. Congratulations on formally succeeding to the ducal seat, Duke Villemon.”
The rest of the gala proved lively. Ruedeum excused himself to greet the other noble guests, while Duke Craitan and Felence took turns holding Lefonya up in their arms whenever nobles approached to pay their respects.
“Ah, this must be the rumored young lady. It is an honor to make your acquaintance.”
“And what rumors might you have heard?”
As he asked this, Duke Craitan clamped both hands over Lefonya’s ears. …Though the gesture was utterly useless, since she knew how to read lips.
“P-Pardon? Ah, well, er… rumors of how b-beautiful and adorable she is!”
“I see. Had they been unfounded rumors, I intended to track down whoever spread them, tear out their lying tongue, and put an end to them. It seems that won’t be necessary.”
My, so that’s the sort of thing you say when you think I can’t hear.
Duke Craitan lifted his hands from her ears.
“Ah, well, yes… Quite.”
“She is adorable, is she not?”
“…Pardon?”
“I asked if she is adorable.”
“Ah, er, yes! Absolutely! Very, very… adorable, yes.”
He went around practically brainwashing every guest who greeted them into acknowledging Lefonya’s cuteness.
Meanwhile, Felence was no better.
“Greetings, Young Lord Felence Craitan. During our time at the Academy, I was greatly indebted to—”
“Did you greet the Fluffball… I mean, Ponya?”
“Excuse me?”
“You should be greeting my little sister first. Can’t you see her?”
He browbeat approaching nobles into bowing to her before speaking another word.
What a bunch of tyrants.
Yet to the Duke and Felence, such behavior was only natural. Neither of them had ever bowed their heads to another soul in their lives. In truth, despite the two of them pushing such unreasonable, absurd demands, not a single person dared to object. More precisely, no one present held the standing to challenge them.
I’m exhausted.
Receiving this much scrutiny made simply breathing a chore. Still, refusing to bring any dishonor to House Craitan’s name, she maintained flawless banquet etiquette, keeping her posture straight and proud.
Who would have thought what I learned under Pope Pretes would come in handy like this?
Whenever she had infiltrated high society galas on the Pope’s orders in the past, she had silently scoffed at the noble ladies looking subtly drained, thinking they didn’t know how good they had it living in such luxury.
Truly, you only understand once you’ve experienced it yourself.
Had she known how exhausting it was, she might have offered them a glass of water back then.
I should have followed Duke Craitan when he stepped out for a moment earlier.
Had she realized Felence would keep her hostage this long, she would have slipped away with the duke in a heartbeat.
Just as Lefonya let out a quiet sigh—
Huh?
Something flickered in the distance, out on the opposite terrace.
Is that… a silver wolf?
She caught the luminous silhouette of a silver wolf. It was the very same creature Ruedeum had been riding whenever he visited her bedroom terrace.