Episode 18
After their conversation ended, Jerold picked up two glasses of champagne from the silver tray a server carried, and discreetly offered one to Asha.
From a distance, it would have looked as if he had asked a few polite questions about her taste before selecting the perfect drink for the lady beside him.
Asha accepted the glass handed to her with a gentle smile.
“Is your talk over now?”
Jerold smiled faintly as well.
“Did you hear us?”
Asha took a sip of champagne, moistening her lips.
“Not really, but it sounded like work talk, so I just waited. Now, let’s go upstairs.”
Jerold drank his champagne to hide the corner of his mouth twitching downward.
Ordinarily, no noblewoman would assume that a royal was discussing work with a ballroom attendant…
He wasn’t sure whether she was free of prejudice or simply naïve, but right now something else intrigued him far more—
Her relationship with Marquis Cedric Dalbert.
Jerold had seen the same investigation report Alesto had, so he knew there were supposedly no ties between them. Yet, the way Dalbert had looked at her earlier—so intensely—didn’t quite fit the story.
As he followed the woman upstairs, he couldn’t hold back his curiosity any longer.
“Do you know Marquis Cedric Dalbert?”
Asha’s shoulders gave a faint, almost imperceptible flinch.
It was such a tiny reaction, yet Jerold couldn’t shake off a strange sense of unease.
Glancing back at him, Asha answered casually,
“Is there anyone in the Empire who doesn’t know Marquis Cedric Dalbert these days? Of course I do. He recently wiped out the pirates in the southern seas and was awarded the title Knight of the Sun.”
Reaching the top of the stairs, Asha paused for breath.
How frail must this body be, that even climbing a few steps left her winded?
“Is that your answer?”
“Hmm… what more should there be?”
She turned to face him, sipping the champagne he’d given her earlier, her tone innocent and her gaze soft—exactly as she intended.
“And if I had any personal connection with the Marquis, wouldn’t you already know, my lord? I heard that Blossom conducts very thorough background checks on anyone they take in. Or was that just another rumor?”
At first listen, she sounded genuinely unacquainted with Dalbert—but Jerold was not the sort to let doubts slide unanswered.
“That’s not entirely wrong. According to what I’ve read, he was your arranged suitor. Why leave that part out?”
Asha tilted her head slightly, feigning surprise.
“You really did a background check on me?”
Jerold’s expression had already hardened.
“It’s the standard procedure for anyone entering Blossom. Don’t change the subject.”
Asha shrugged lightly, as if it were no big deal.
“Well, yes, a meeting was arranged, but we never actually met. I entered the palace right after meeting His Highness Alesto. …Although I’m sure you already knew that.”
“Did you exchange letters before the meeting? There’s no record in the postal office, but you could have sent them through a personal maid. I’m just confirming.”
Now Asha began to frown slightly, puzzled.
“No. Never. Not once. Why are you so persistent about this? Is there a reason?”
“…No reason.”
Jerold finally closed his mouth.
Telling her that the Marquis had been staring at her like a lovesick fool would only stir unnecessary trouble—and scratching at an itch like that could cause a wound.
‘Wait. Did I just think of Miss Asha as my sister-in-law?’
While Jerold was having that odd thought, Asha quietly updated her mental assessment of him—
Breathtakingly rude, insufferably persistent, and exhausting to deal with.
After wandering the hall for a while, Asha decided to settle in the banquet hall.
Choosing a seat as far from attention as possible, she focused her efforts on the grilled meats—beef, chicken, and pork.
She popped a perfectly cooked piece of beef into her mouth.
Delicious… absolutely delicious…
Well-cooked meat, she thought, needed nothing more than a pinch of salt to be divine. She chewed slowly and thoroughly, savoring it.
If she slowed down the pace of eating, she could match it perfectly with her digestion rate.
Naturally, she kept her posture straight.
If her back slouched and compressed her stomach, she wouldn’t be able to stack the meat neatly from the bottom of her belly upward.
Her determination was simple: eat continuously, as much as possible.
Only after her hunger eased a little did she finally take in her surroundings.
Guests gathered in small groups, laughing and chatting pleasantly—a picturesque scene.
Elegant décor, tall men in tailored suits, and slender, fair-skinned women in lavish gowns.
And, of course, every noble held a glass of champagne or wine in one hand, their lips curled in refined smiles.
For a moment, Asha felt as though she had stepped into a famous painting.
But it wasn’t a feeling of joy or wonder—rather, a quiet alienation, as though she had been dropped into the wrong world.
If the world shimmered in vivid color, she alone felt rendered in black and white.
A shiver ran down her spine at the uncanny sensation—then she suddenly locked eyes with someone who felt just as monochrome.
Of course, he wasn’t literally in grayscale; it was simply a man with black hair dressed in a white cleric’s robe.
And yet, a sudden thought struck her.
If this world had temples and saints—did it also have a god?
And if so, would that god already know she came from another world?
She found herself staring at the priest for a long time, unable to look away.
Though they were far apart, she could almost hear a whisper, soft and close—
“Nice to see you.”
Asha unconsciously answered in her mind,
“Do you… know me?”
The priest smiled, as if he’d heard her.
How could someone’s expression from so far away be so clear?
The surreal moment ended when another figure entered her view—
A man tapped the table beside her twice.
“May I sit here?”
Asha blinked up at the newcomer, momentarily dazed, before quickly collecting herself.
“Oh… yes, of course. But I heard you couldn’t make it tonight…”
“The meeting ended sooner than expected,” Alesto said, taking a seat. “But tell me—were you watching something amusing?”
“Oh, no, nothing like that. I just saw something… interesting.”
She glanced toward where the priest had stood.
Where did he go?
He was gone—vanished as if he had never been there at all.
Or perhaps… had he ever been human?
As that realization struck, it felt like a light had switched on.
The color and warmth of the room returned; the black-and-white stillness faded.
Asha felt as though she had just glimpsed the other side of the world—and was a little disappointed that the wonder was already gone.
But outwardly, she showed nothing.
With a bright smile, she turned to the Crown Prince.
“Your Highness, would you like to try this? The grilled chicken is so good.”
Alesto found himself momentarily speechless at her unreserved friendliness—and then let out a quiet laugh.
They had only met a few days ago, yet this was already the third time she’d raved about meat.
Still, for someone who talked about food so often, she looked far too thin.
Without realizing it, his gaze lingered on her as she chewed—her expression blissfully content, her small mouth working neatly.
He poured her some water into her half-empty cup.
“Is it really that good?”
“Yes! I’ll give you one!”
Alesto hadn’t planned to try any, but before he could answer, Asha speared a large chunk of meat and held it out toward him on her fork.
He hesitated.
He had never shared a fork with anyone before—had never even imagined such a thing.
