CHAPTER 11
Psyche buried her face in her knees and massaged her swollen, aching ankle.
The pain had eased compared to earlier, so she felt she could probably stand again.
She put her shoes back on and slowly rose.
The tips of her shoes still pressed tightly against her feet, making them uncomfortable—but it was bearable.
Limping slightly, she re-entered the banquet hall.
The moment she stepped inside, she almost made eye contact with Eirin.
Instinctively, Psyche avoided his gaze and moved away.
To the farthest edge of the hall.
There was no reason to run into Eirin.
She was certain he would only scold her and tell her to leave immediately.
Psyche sat at the very edge of the hall.
The imperial palace banquet hall was as extravagant as expected.
From a distance, she watched the nobles dancing with an empty gaze.
She wanted to dance like that with Karhis.
Under the glittering chandelier, with only each other in their eyes—elegant, beautiful.
Her eyes blinked weakly.
And then—
A man suddenly appeared.
Who is he? Why does he keep hovering around me?
Psyche glanced at him with a strange expression, then looked away.
Who would possibly invite her to dance?
How delusional.
She smirked faintly and ate some fruit a servant had brought her.
But… why is he still here?
Even after several minutes, the man did not leave, which made her uncomfortable.
She looked up at him.
He was tall, with a refined noble appearance.
“Please go find another lady. I believe you’ve mistaken your dance partner.”
“I came to request a dance with you. My name is Lovit Eklot.”
“…Pardon?”
Psyche’s calm eyes wavered in confusion.
“With me?”
“Yes.”
She examined his face carefully.
He seemed to be a high-ranking noble, judging by his luxurious attire.
However, his relaxed, smug demeanor felt unpleasant.
“Then, will you dance with me?”
“No, I’m fine.”
“You don’t need to refuse so modestly. Noble ladies often act aloof to seem more valuable.”
As if indulging her, the man spoke lightly.
Then he grabbed her wrist.
Psyche shot him a cold glare.
She had never appeared at the banquet before.
He clearly had no idea she was a Benoain.
“Let go of my wrist.”
“Haha! Don’t worry, I’ll take care of everything.”
His tone was disgusting.
Psyche stabbed his hand with her long nail.
He screamed and glared at her.
Thinking he had been insulted by a “lower noble,” the man immediately dropped the pretense.
“How dare you hurt me? A low-ranking noble like you?”
“You grabbed me first. I told you to let go, but you didn’t.”
“Come with me!”
He forcibly dragged her away.
Psyche struggled, but she couldn’t match his strength.
“Let go. I warned you nicely.”
“Do you even know who I am? You should be honored to accompany me!”
The man was clearly deaf to reason.
Psyche quickly drew a hidden, sharply cut hairpin and freed her wrist.
“I assume you know what this is?”
“…Don’t tell me—”
“It seems you do recognize it.”
She pulled out a small insignia.
“The Benoain family crest…?”
The man’s face turned pale.
“How—how do you have that?!”
The insignia of the Four Great Duchies.
Though Psyche was treated as a discarded daughter, she was still a Benoain.
The hierarchy between a mere noble family and a ducal house was unimaginable.
The Four Great Houses stood above all others—closer to royalty than nobility.
Psyche felt, for the first time, relief at being a Benoain.
Even if she was the “fool of Benoain,” she still carried noble blood.
“Calling me a low-ranking noble… from a mere count’s family?”
“Th-this is a misunderstanding!”
“So arrogant. Acting so freely in front of someone from a Great House.”
The situation reversed instantly.
She showed her bruised wrist.
The man’s legs trembled.
“I’m not kind enough to forgive rudeness.”
Psyche smiled sweetly.
“If you trample people with power, shouldn’t you face consequences?”
“Count Lovit Eklot. I think I may send a letter to your house.”
“P-please don’t! I must have lost my mind!”
“No. You must pay for your behavior.”
He eventually knelt and grabbed her dress hem.
“Remove your hand.”
Her voice turned icy.
“I don’t want to bring shame to my family…”
“You should have thought of that earlier.”
She sighed internally.
She had no real power in Benoain.
But fear? That she could use.
The name “Benoain” alone was enough to terrify nobles.
“I don’t want to see you again.”
She turned away sharply.
A small sense of satisfaction lingered—but her ankle throbbed painfully again.
Of course. Psyche Benoain, did you really think you’d be invited to dance?
She mocked herself.
Nothing good ever happens to you.
The voice in her head was cruel.
Her vision blurred.
She leaned against the wall and moved forward weakly.
“…Right. Someone like me…”
Her ankle worsened.
She staggered.
Her breathing grew heavy.
Her steps stopped at the staircase.
A sharp headache struck.
She collapsed to the ground.
“I can’t… take this anymore…”
Tears burned her eyes.
She bit her lip until blood appeared.
It’s okay.
She tried to steady herself.
But the negative thoughts wouldn’t stop.
She forced herself up using the wall.
Her legs trembled uncontrollably.
Then—
Something touched her from behind.
“Whoever you are… let go.”
“I can’t do that.”
Her anger exploded.
“I told you to let go!”
She swung her arm wildly.
“Whoever you are doesn’t matter anymore!”
But the hand grabbed her again.
“Am I not being heard?”
“No, not at all.”
“Th-then who are you?”
A familiar, calm male voice reached her ears.
She couldn’t turn around anymore.
“Are you going to turn around or not?”
Her heart dropped.
She slowly turned her head.
Silver hair appeared in her vision.
Under the cold night air and the bright moon—
She looked up.
“…Karhis… Ferdian.”
“Yes.”
“I am.”
