#162. Counterfire (4)
“Counterfire strategy?”
Nikolai, puzzled, looked at Sasha. She explained calmly.
“So… basically…”
Hearing Sasha’s quiet words, Nikolai’s face lit up.
“Ah! So that’s the way to do it!”
He smiled broadly, tapping his chest confidently.
“Spreading rumors is actually my specialty. By tomorrow, interesting stories will be circulating all over the castle and beyond.”
“Then I’ll leave it to you, sir.”
Sasha’s soft voice carried trust.
“And one more thing—please keep a close watch on the suspicious knights. Especially those showing any odd signs.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Thank you, sir. I’m sorry for asking you to handle such a troublesome task.”
“Not at all.”
Indeed, it would be a bit tiresome and exhausting for a while. He’d have to restrain himself from drinking and partying as he usually enjoyed.
But looking at Sasha smiling at him, Nikolai felt that the effort was worth it.
Seeing this, Sasha added kindly,
“Still, things should be quiet for a while.”
Sasha could already anticipate when Naina would act in earnest.
There were obvious signs to watch for.
There had to be a reason Naina suddenly demanded to attend the charity party.
“Since she seems to be preparing something, we can observe in advance and act in one decisive move before she executes it.”
Today was the day of the charity party. The grand hall, usually used for balls, had been transformed into a fitting venue for the event.
The charity party was a regular event held by Sasha.
Unlike other social gatherings she attended only sparingly, Sasha never skipped the charity party each year.
People flocked, eager to meet the North’s most prominent lady, and attending became essential for those seeking to expand their social connections.
Though the balls were more enjoyable, the charity party held greater importance—and with that came the difficulty of securing invitations.
Northern nobles were willing to open their coffers and donate generously to meet the criteria for attending.
Not only cash donations, but item donations were accepted. Items were auctioned, and proceeds combined with upfront donations to form funds for the underprivileged—a core purpose of the party.
Invited guests gathered in the banquet hall, prepared for the event.
On the dance floor, a platform was set for auction items, with seats arranged in a semicircle for attendees.
Each seat bore the guest’s name, and attendees found their places accordingly.
Seating was determined by the amount donated: those in front sat proudly with heads held high, while those further back subtly hid their faces behind fans or handkerchiefs, feeling slightly embarrassed.
“I thought I’d get a front seat this year, but I’m still in the middle. How much do they donate to sit up there?”
“No kidding. They’re really generous.”
“But sitting up front gives you a chance to be noticed by the Duke and Duchess. For those with means, it’s no trouble at all.”
Seats arranged by donation rather than family hierarchy were immediately apparent.
Pride-conscious nobles disliked falling behind in this hierarchy, so they’d spend less elsewhere to contribute more for the charity party.
Moreover, front-row seating allowed longer, pleasant interactions with the duke and duchess, making the donations worthwhile.
Those in the back resolved to move forward next time, swallowing their disappointment.
“By the way, what’s this? A new dessert, perhaps?”
Whispering among themselves, attendees noticed the personal glass table beside each chair, holding a teacup and a small plate of treats.
Beverages included tea, coffee, hot chocolate, and more; food included freshly baked cookies and chilled desserts—like any high-class party.
But the reason for their admiration was unique:
“As expected from the Volkovs, there’s always a new menu. Look at this—it’s shaped like a house! Such a cute confectionary, almost too pretty to eat.”
“I heard the Duchess created the recipe herself. Where does she get such inspiration?”
Guests marveled at the delicately crafted edible houses, made entirely from sweets.
Everything Sasha touched became a topic of fascination—not merely because she was the duchess.
Her dazzling sense of style set trends for the North.
From unique interiors to specially designed dresses, desserts she created, and artisan-made tableware she sponsored—everything bore her touch and everyone wanted to imitate it.
Today was no different: desserts unseen even in the capital, Kalita, were presented.
Being among the first to enjoy such novelties was a privilege, and Northern nobles eagerly attended Sasha’s social events.
However, aside from a few families personally close to her, most people had no other connection to her.
Thus, attending social gatherings was the only way to enter Velikordo Castle.
As a result, everyone present wore bright expressions.
Northern nobles prided themselves on being chosen by Sasha and on knowing and experiencing the latest trends first.
There was still time before the ceremony officially began, so attendees conversed while enjoying refreshments.
Light topics like weather and desserts soon turned to the hottest topic of the day.
“Have you heard about the woman who entered Velikordo Castle? They say the Duke brought her himself! What’s their relationship? A secret lover?”
“No way.”
Though skeptical, they couldn’t help smiling at the new excitement in the usually dull social scene.
“If not that, why else would she be staying in Velikordo Castle? They say she’s not even noble—just common-born.”
“I heard she has a special ability.”
“A special ability?”
“Yes. She can see the future.”
“Oh! So she’s a prophet?”
Even the quiet observers leaned in, curiosity piqued. The ability to see the future naturally drew interest.
“But her prophetic ability isn’t that reliable. Even when asked to prove it, she doesn’t know what will happen today.”
“Really? Then is she a fraud?”
“Not likely. Could a fraud really walk around Velikordo Castle so openly, fooling the Duke?”
“But if someone schemed carefully… maybe?”
Murmurs spread through the hall. Each person imagined the prophet, Naina, differently—but her presence left a strong impression on everyone.
So when Naina appeared, all eyes were on her.
It felt strange that so many gazes focused on a single person.
Ordinary people might have felt overwhelmed, but Naina wasn’t intimidated.
Instead, she held herself upright, her gaze slightly lowered, exuding the poise of an arrogant noblewoman.
“They say she’s a country bumpkin, but she doesn’t look it at all.”
Curious onlookers scrutinized her from head to toe.
“Wow, she really does resemble the Duchess. Could they be sisters?”
“Her hair and eyes differ slightly, and so do her facial features. But yes, there’s a strong resemblance.”
“Really? I don’t think they’re that alike.”
People glanced sideways, silently comparing, but no one approached Naina.
They didn’t know how to treat her. They decided to watch quietly and follow the Volkov Duke and Duchess’s lead.
Naina easily read their intentions.
While she enjoyed attention, she hated being ignored. She had no interest in merely being observed like a zoo animal.
Scanning the hall quickly, she confidently approached the front row—occupied by wives of the North’s most influential nobles.
“Hello, I’m Naina, the Prophet.”
Introducing herself boldly as a prophet, she received hesitant greetings from the ladies.
“Oh… yes, hello.”
“I’m alone, may I stay with you until the event begins?”
“Of course.”
Naina integrated smoothly among the noblewomen, engaging in light conversation, gauging the group.
With her rare title as a prophet, her resemblance to the Duchess, her accomplishments in the demon war, and her current position as a guest in the ducal residence, she quickly gained influence over the group.
‘This is easier than eating cold soup,’ she thought with a smirk.
Naina, or Laisa Goriki, had socialized with high society before, praised as a potential star of the Northern social scene—this setting was easy for her.
Recalling her past experience, she began subtly shaping public opinion.
“From the decor to these unusual desserts… it’s unique, but isn’t it a bit excessive? It feels like the Duchess is shouting, ‘Look at me!’… it’s a bit unsightly.”
“Excuse me? What do you mean?”
“She’s from the South, perhaps. Or maybe she hasn’t learned to host such large events. She seems to show off her presence without restraint. There’s a Northern saying: better too little than too much. Maybe no one taught her that.”
At the moment Naina spoke critically of Sasha…
“Oh my.”
A low gasp was heard somewhere, and the subtle tension favoring Naina shifted completely.
