The maid, bowing her head not knowing what to do, told the truth in a teary voice.
“No. I have not misheard anything. As I was leaving the Imperial Household Office, I personally witnessed His Majesty and Marquise Merlin getting into the carriage. He saw me before getting in and purposely called me to ask about the Countess. His Majesty asked if the Countess was still unwell, and specially ordered me to take care of her so that she does not have to worry about useless things.”
Only when Viscountess Wemmel heard those words did she realize what had happened.
She had wondered what happened and it seemed that the problem was that Countess Patrí, who had a hard time cleaning up after Louise Dumont’s case, was using the excuse of being bedridden with illness.
Countess Patrí did this to prevent the enraged Grand Duchess Alienor from being questioned and to garner the Emperor’s sympathy, but the Emperor did not show any special reaction other than to visit the Countess a couple of times during the day. After that, however, he would occasionally send someone to see if Countess Patrí was in good health, which the Viscountess Wemmel had not expected to come back in this way.
As far as the Emperor was informed, Countess Patrí was just recovering. Naturally, it would be difficult for such a body to carry out the official schedule.
The Emperor was not one to impose duties on a concubine, who had been ill for a while after suffering from a difficult event, and from the standpoint of Countess Patrí, who had complained of deteriorating health throughout, she was not in a position to be disappointed that she was not informed in advance of her attendance at the ball. If she was indeed a convalescent patient, it was natural not to attend the ball.
But if that were indeed all. If only for that reason the Emperor had excluded the Countess, the Viscountess Wemmel would not have been so frightened.
His Majesty said to take care of her so she does not have to worry about useless things?
The Emperor added those words, giving back to Countess Patri what she had done.
The Emperor was not like Count Freyr’s young daughter who vocalized whatever came to mind. Those who kept a close eye on the affairs of the court would not be unaware that Countess Patrí had selected the fabric for her dress and arranged the jewelry for today several months in advance.
Undoubtedly, the clever Countess Patrí figured out the Emperor’s message at once.
Useless things. All useless.
Tears streamed down her smiling and distorted face. Everything she had been working on for so long had been in vain. She thought she still had a chance. Since he had been waiting all this time, she thought he would give her a little more time.
As soon as she realized that it was all over, her heart broke. She felt unbearably miserable and horrible. Even though she knew it was her fault, it was so painful that she couldn’t stand it any longer.
She had become a garden tree with human hands, cutting and trimming herself, trying to become a person worthy of him. Even if she wasn’t loved, she wanted to be valued. She struggled desperately and did everything she could so because she didn’t want to make him regret his choice.
But she did not succeed in the end. He slashed and cut that persistent hope that she could not give up even though it was smashed and broken, and eventually rolled into sludge.
Now, she no longer deserved to dream.
***
He had long heard rumors of the Marquise of Bertin’s ball.
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
Pa kjr Obelrf, ktb, ilxf j ilaaif ulgi, jvwlgfv atf kbgiv bo tlut-gjcxlcu jglrabmgjar, jcv abiv tlw rabglfr bo atf yjii klat fcns.
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Perhaps that’s why Louise paid special attention to the rumors surrounding the ball. The vague longing and admiration for another world that she could not set foot in were not easily understood by Eugène, who was a realistic person, but he always quietly listened to her stories. It was because she, who was always shy in front of him, was unusually talkative when that happened.
As he stepped into the place that had always been told only through stories, Eugène felt a bittersweet emotion. The irony of life was that the wife who chirped like a bird about the ball was no longer with him, but he who only listened to her voice like a song without any emotion, came here.
“Eugène Lothair de Chastan, Baron Amieux has arrived.”
Eugène entered the ballroom with the long voice of the announcer.
Unlike other balls that were run freely for the purpose of socializing, Marquise of Bertin’s ball maintained the entree in strict accordance with the ceremonial rules as in the court. The time to enter was clearly specified in the invitation, and it was impossible for low-ranking figures to enter the ballroom beyond that time.
Such prestige was possible at the Marquise’s ball because she came from House Benoist, the only remaining Prince-Elector family to this day.
House Benoist, the oldest and the most prestigious family in the empire was of a historical lineage enough to establish a duchy in the name of the family during the Prince-Elector Era. The head of House Benoist had the right to sit in front of the Emperor, without his permission, and the blood relatives of the family were allowed to enter the Cathedral of Notre Magnat on horseback.
So this is the famed Prince-Elector.
Eugène felt the power anew and looked around the ballroom decorated in an antique manner.
Contrary to the rumors he had heard, the ballroom was decorated in a graceful and elegant fashion rather than blindly flashy. Rather than following the latest trends, they had used an old southern style as the base, with unique and impressive decorations added to it.
It was still too early for people to gather, so Eugène looked around the quiet ballroom as if looking at a painting. It wasn’t too difficult now to recognize him and he ignored the gazes that started to follow him one by one.
The musicians who chose the strings began to play the elegant and fast minuet. It wasn’t time to dance yet, but there was nothing better that energized the rising atmosphere as people entered.
The louder the music got, the louder the crowd grew. The announcer constantly called out the names of new guests, and people greeted each other warmly, showing their pretentious joy.
Light eye greetings, hugs, and formal kisses on both cheeks.
Those who had known each other in a friendly manner greeted Eugène as well.
‘It was nice to hear that you were attending. You are still as handsome and tall as ever.’
‘I have heard that you have been appointed keeper of the imperial scepter. Congratulations.’
Exploring gazes were secretly pouring down between the ostentatious greetings. Even though he was not the most beautiful in the world, it felt like he was completely naked under their gaze.
Eugène was able to clearly read the questions they had in their bright smiling eyes.
Is this truly the Emperor’s paramour? Where did the Emperor fall in love with such a man? Or is there truly some other reason? What is the Emperor trying to do with this man? Strangely enough, what could be found in some of them was their primary curiosity and lust for his body. They wanted to sleep with him simply because he must have had sexual relations with the Emperor.
If their gazes had been liquid, Eugène would have drowned in no time. Everywhere he looked, eyes were staring at him.
A sideways glance with a smirk, and the obvious glance that could be felt even with the back turned.
The whispers from behind the folding fan always had his name buried in it. Those interested in politics wanted to gauge Eugène’s inclinations, and others, regardless of gender, greedily peeked into the body behind his clothes.
Although he prepared himself mentally in advance, the feeling of pressure exceeded his expectations. In front of their gaze, a person’s character was nothing more than a piece of meat dismantled on a chopping board.
Well, this is normal here.
Even though Eugène had enough of the whole situation around him, he smiled. A conscious smile concealed his sincerity like a mask.
“Countess Sertois?”
“Oh, Baron Amieux. We meet again in this place.”
He didn’t know how many people he greeted. There was no end to the influx of people, and even during simple conversations, the other person changed repeatedly.
When his nerves were gradually getting tired of the intrusive gazes, he turned his head inadvertently, and for the first time that day, met brown eyes that showed no sign of spying.
She stood there, expressionless, and looked startled as if she’d just happened to catch a glimpse of him, and responded with a light nod when he greeted her.
Unusually standing alone, unable to mix with the other aristocrats, was Countess Sertois, whom he had met during the day.
“It is nice to meet you like this, Countess Sertois. Are you here alone?”
“Yes. I am not planning on staying for long as I am only present as the representative of Princess Anne Meredith. I have to go back on time and take care of the princess’ bedtime.”
Eugène took a moment to apologize to those he was talking to and approached her. The sight of her standing alone with no one around her somehow caught his attention.
Even though she pretended to look amused, Countess Sertois blushed lightly, probably because she didn’t actually expect Eugène to approach her. She seemed more embarrassed than shy so Eugène felt a little puzzled inwardly.
Eugène didn’t know if it was because he was not familiar with the capital’s high society, but he couldn’t understand why a woman of her stature and status was a wallflower. However, it was easy to guess that there was a story behind it, so he didn’t commit the disrespect of directly asking questions.
“It is my first time attending this ball. As I heard, it seems that all the high-ranking nobles in the capital have gathered.”
“It is a rare opportunity to get acquainted with figures of House Benoist. As you know, they are not very interested in anything outside of their territory, so they rarely visit the capital.”
Eugène chatted with her for a while. And it was not simply out of sympathy.
Countess Sertois, though overly shy, showed little interest in him, and Eugène was able to take a breather away from excessive interest. They continued the conversation for a while on trivial topics.
Some time had passed since he entered, and now the highest-ranking nobles were appearing one by one.
The Duke of Chirac, who had been awarded the title of duke in the previous generation, was the first to enter, and after that, the few families who held a dukedom followed. The last to appear was the Duke of Benoist, who escorted the owner of the house, the Marquise of Bertin.
The Duke of Benoist, who could be said to be the main guest of this ball, was a dignified old gentleman with a thin body and a gentle impression. He escorted the Marquise of Bertin with one hand, while carrying himself in a lavishly adorned gentleman’s gown, and leaned heavily on his cane with each step, lest it should be thought that it was merely fashionable.
“The ball is about to begin now.”
“Did you say it was your first time at the ball of the Marquise of Bertin? I hope you have a good time.”
After the Duke of Benoist and the hostess, the last of the great noble families, the silence fell for a moment. The announcer took a long breath, cleared his throat, and vigorously called out the status of the noblest of those who attended the ball.
“His Majesty the Emperor, Lord of Ardi, Kleman and Nervoge, Ruler of the Neutel and Salpine Rivers, and Protector of Lex Ardica, enters!”
The sound of horn trumpets, which adorned the Emperor’s appearance, emanated a long and majestic tone. As the nobles in the hall paid their respects, the Emperor, who appeared at the wide open front door, nodded to those with his head down.
“Raise your heads.”
Upon receiving the permission, the nobles all at once straightened their bent knees and stood upright. Marquise Merlin, who appeared at an official event with the Emperor after a long time, greeted anyone who made eye contact with her with a bright smile.
They slowly crossed the center of the hall and stepped onto the podium that the Marquise of Bertin had prepared in advance. The Emperor, sitting down in a specially beautifully decorated armchair, signaled to the Marquise of Bertin with a light glance.
The Marquise of Bertin, with a big smile, rose from her seat and extended her arm to her maternal nephew. The young noble, who had to perform the first dance on behalf of his disabled father, walked out into the middle of the ball, holding the hand of the Marquise.
Eventually, the first dance song officially rang out and the midnight ball began.
Thanks for the chapter!!! <33
+1
Omg the emperor is going to be so jelly in the next chapter 🤭
What’s gonna happen ? What’s gonna happen! OMG I’m so curious to know!
Emperor-Baron Twirl Twirl ? 🕺🏼🕺🏼👬
Countess Patri is done for lol
Thankyou for posting this chapter. Next gonna be full of action I assume (~‾▿‾)~
thank you very much for the update 🤍
These Nobels are so Eww. No Wonder Emperor is extremely shrewd and Eugene getting uncomfortable in their presence.
😶
omg can’t wait for the next chapter 😍😍
Thank you as always for updating☺️
thank youu!
Thank you for the chapter, I am already tensed as to what will happen here 😨😨😨
Here comes the very much anticipated chapter…..
That feeling when you want to just jump into the book to know what’s next without the cliffhangers… /sigh/
Thank you so much for the translations, Mimari~ Heartttt hearttt <333