Chapter 521: Conversation
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 521: Conversation
"Celicia!"
Accompanied by a joyful cry, Ariel came bouncing over like a happy fawn, dressed in a perfectly tailored, magnificent gown.
However, after only a few steps, she seemed to realize that her behavior was somewhat inappropriate for the occasion. After two dry coughs, Ariel adopted a stiff etiquette posture she had clearly crammed for at the last minute. She teetered precariously on her high heels, her movements as clumsy as a penguin trying to hatch an egg.
"Princess Celicia, I wish you a noble evening." Ariel’s ladylike curtsy was equally unrefined.
"Good evening, Ariel. You look very beautiful tonight."
"I... I do?"
Ariel’s eyes lit up, and she couldn't help but give a little twirl.
Given her personality, she rarely wore such intricate gowns, let alone dressed herself up like this. But hearing Celicia’s praise made her feel that the previous agony—the sensation of her waist being squeezed to the breaking point—was entirely worth it.
"You look wonderful too, Celicia!"
Ariel returned the compliment with genuine sincerity.
At this moment, Celicia stood apart from the majority of the noblewomen in the hall, who were doing their best to be as gaudy and eye-catching as possible. She wore her usual preferred style—a pale-colored gown—without any superfluous jewelry or decorations. This elegant simplicity only served to highlight her natural, breathtaking beauty.
The pale dress complemented her skin, which was as smooth as cream, while her silver-white hair flowed naturally like frost flowers in a forest or drifting snow in the mountains. She was a vision of loveliness.
"By the way, this is..."
Ariel, whose gaze had been so fixed on Celicia that she could hardly look away, finally noticed there was a companion by her side.
Ariel felt a wave of relief that the companion wasn't that damned Muen Campbell, but...
"Huh? Miss, why are you keeping your head down and hiding your face?"
Ariel tilted her head, looking confusedly at the girl standing next to Celicia. The girl was even taller than her, yet she had her head buried so deep in her "majestic" chest that it was a wonder she could breathe. She was even using her arm to shield her face, as if she couldn't bear to let her features see the light of day.
"I... I... my makeup is smudged. Yes, smudged."
The blonde beauty hesitated for a moment before speaking in a low, muffled voice.
"Is that so...?"
"Ye... yes. I'm not very good at applying makeup, haha..."
The blonde beauty—who was, of course, Muen—forced a smile while answering Ariel, all the while silently gritting his teeth.
Ariel! Bugard!
How could he have forgotten about this girl? She usually didn't act like a proper noble, but in her current capacity as the heir to the Bugard family, there was a high probability she would attend this ball!
Of course, attending the ball wasn't the problem. Seeing that she was alive and well actually made Muen breathe a sigh of relief; at least he could give an account to Liya, who had been worried about her. But the problem was...
Now, every time he saw this girl, he couldn't help but remember the way this lesbian-in-chief had looked at him in his "potion state" that night—like a predator eyeing its prey!
This girl was a bona fide "beautiful girl" fanatic. If she saw a girl who suited her tastes, she wouldn't even be able to walk straight. Muen still remembered being coerced by her into giving up his Voice Transmission Stone frequency...
Hiss—
As those tragic, suppressed memories resurfaced thanks to Ariel’s appearance, Muen couldn't help but suck in a breath of cold air. Even in this warm hall, his body shuddered.
He absolutely, positively could not let her recognize him. Otherwise, it would cause catastrophic trouble for his upcoming plans!
Besides, he had no desire to be targeted by a lesbian-in-chief!
Muen made a firm internal vow.
Unfortunately, Ariel didn't seem inclined to let him off the hook. Seeing that this girl, who was distinguished enough to appear as Celicia’s companion, refused to show her face, Ariel only grew more curious.
"You don't know how to do makeup? Actually, I don't either. Look, I didn't even wear any for a ball like this. So it's fine if it's a little smudged, I won't—"
"Ariel."
Fortunately, Celicia chose that moment to place a hand on Ariel’s shoulder.
"Let it be. Muse has been bedridden with illness for a long time, so naturally, no one taught her how to apply makeup. This is also her first time attending such an event. It's only natural for her to be shy and reluctant to see people."
"Ah, is that how it is?"
Ariel had a sudden realization and immediately apologized to Muen.
"I am so sorry. I... I didn't know Miss Muse had such a... difficult past. I didn't mean to offend..."
"It's... it's fine."
Muen waved his hand dismissively, wanting nothing more than to send this "great deity" on her way.
However, what left Muen somewhat speechless was that, at some point, the persona of a "sickly, bedridden beauty" had apparently become his permanent backstory.
"Phew, that was a close one."
Seeing that the blonde beauty wasn't going to hold her rudeness against her, Ariel patted her chest and breathed a secret sigh of relief.
If she made Celicia’s friend dislike her, it would be a massive point deduction. In all the books she had studied regarding girl psychology and "capture" methods, it was emphasized that the target's friends could either be a great help to one's progress or a mountain blocking the path.
Therefore, Celicia’s friend was someone she absolutely could not offend; in fact, she needed to build a relationship with her as quickly as possible!
Except...
Ariel rubbed her chin, her gaze sweeping over the tall figure outlined by the blonde girl's gown. Her brow furrowed slightly.
Why did she feel like she had seen this girl somewhere before?
"By the way, Celicia, you haven't been back to the Academy lately. Have you been busy with something?"
Setting aside those strange thoughts for the moment, Ariel seized the opportunity to engage Celicia in small talk after the initial greetings.
"I've had some matters to attend to recently. I haven't had time to return to the Academy."
Celicia didn't mention that she had been under house arrest, and Ariel seemed entirely unaware of it.
"I see. You're so busy; as expected of Her Highness the Princess."
"It's nothing special."
"But speaking of which, it's a bit of a pity."
"A pity?"
"Yeah. Didn't you say before that you wanted to exchange pointers on swordsmanship with me? I've been looking forward to it."
"Swordsmanship... I remember your skills are quite impressive."
"Hehe... they're alright, I guess."
Ariel responded with feigned modesty, though her puffed-out chest radiated an unceasing aura of confidence.
"Then if there's a chance, we should indeed have a match. I'm quite curious about your swordsmanship as well."
Celicia nodded with interest.
Hearing this, Ariel’s eyes sparkled. She was just about to strike while the iron was hot... but unfortunately, even though she usually didn't care about "atmosphere," the weight of the numerous gazes sweeping toward them from the surroundings forced her offensive to a grinding halt.
They had entered the main ballroom.
As the Princess of the Empire, Celicia was the center of attention not just because of her status, but because of her peerless beauty and poise. The moment she entered, she naturally became the focus of the entire room.
The nobles who wished to pay their respects had already raised their crystal glasses. Like knights tightening the reins on their warhorses, they began to surge toward them.
"Tsk."
Ariel clicked her tongue, annoyed that the hallway had been so short. However, she knew it wasn't appropriate to linger there now. She could only bid a regretful temporary farewell, hoping to find another opening later.
Ariel stepped out of the inner circle. Unlike the other nobles, she didn't seek out anyone else to talk to. Instead, she headed straight for the long tables lined up along the sides of the hall to begin a battle of her own—with the food.
Celicia watched Ariel’s retreating back, her thoughts unreadable.
That was until a faint, ghostly voice whispered in her ear:
"Ho... Princess, you seem pretty close with that ironing board."
"What do you mean by that?"
Celicia withdrew her gaze and glanced sideways.
"Nothing. I just saw how well you two were hitting it off and felt like commenting."
Muen turned his head away, whistling a silent tune with an air of indifference.
Hiss—
Then, his shin was struck by a kick delivered at the speed of light.
The sheer ferocity of it made Muen’s expression contort. He glared through gritted teeth at the woman who had struck so ruthlessly.
But Celicia had already looked away, moving with elegant grace to greet the approaching nobles.
"Hypocrite."
A faint, almost imperceptible curve touched the corner of her mouth. Her whispered words were like dandelion seeds scattering in the wind.