Chapter 18
Before the heatwave set in, the streets were quickly filling with people enjoying the festival’s eve.
Because of this, the carriage carrying the two of them slowed even more.
“That’s a troupe of acrobats.”
Charlotte, seeing them in person for the first time, pressed close to the window.
“Is that so?”
Racal leaned toward the window as well.
“Over there…”
Just as they both tried to look outside, Racal suddenly pulled Charlotte into his arms and collapsed backward onto the seat.
Wait, what’s happening?! Is he attacking me now? We’re friends!
Whoosh—thud.
“Kyaa!”
A dagger had embedded itself in the opposite carriage door after passing the window.
Racal, his face set in a hard expression, pounded on the carriage wall with his fists.
Screeeech.
The carriage wheels slipped, and the vehicle came to a sudden stop.
“Hold still for a moment.”
Racal kept Charlotte safely pressed against him and cast a cold glare out the window over his shoulder.
Charlotte couldn’t even blink.
Her stomach trembled.
Had the assassin known she’d come outside and chased her? Were they now throwing daggers just to complete the attempt?
After making sure the surroundings were safe, Racal carefully helped Charlotte sit upright.
“Are you alright, Charlotte?”
“Yes, I’m fine.”
“Any injuries?”
“None.”
“I-I’m so sorry! Milady, sir, I’m so sorry!”
A man resembling an acrobat rushed over, trembling and apologizing with tears in his eyes.
“I threw it wrong by mistake. I beg your pardon. Please forgive me just this once.”
The acrobat pleaded so humbly that it bordered on groveling.
Even though the noble’s family crest had been hidden because of the ball’s rules, he had thrown a dagger at a noble carriage. If they dragged him away now, he couldn’t even protest.
Charlotte took a deep, steadying breath and looked outside.
It was indeed the acrobat troupe they had seen through the window. They were performing a dagger-throwing trick, and the shocked spectators were murmuring as they glanced at the carriage.
“In twenty years, no one’s ever made a mistake like this… but someone suddenly popping out forced him to change direction…”
Charlotte couldn’t help but think, “Hopefully he wasn’t instructed by an assassin.”
But the man really was terrified.
His face was pale enough to look like a ghost, and cold sweat streamed down him as if he had just run a marathon—it was genuine fear.
“You decide, Charlotte. I’ll follow your lead.”
“Me?”
“If you want to send him to prison…”
“Let him go. No one’s hurt.”
Yes, the acrobat looked far too clumsy to be an assassin. And drawing attention over this would only contradict Charlotte’s goal of living quietly and peacefully.
“Charlotte, you are truly generous. It could have ended in death or serious injury.”
“Racal only made a mistake—do you want to punish him?”
“Is that so? Very well. We’ll follow your opinion.”
Racal smiled gently and told the acrobat he would not be held accountable, sending him away.
“Thank you, milady. Thank you for sparing me.”
The acrobat bowed repeatedly before retreating. Racal, watching him leave, then looked toward a nearby three-story building.
Narrowing his eyes for a moment, he turned to Charlotte with a kind expression.
“Shall we continue?”
The Chester Marquis’ estate was nothing short of magnificent.
It was more than twice the size of the Countess No’s residence, and the gardens, now cloaked in darkness, were even larger.
From the wide-open gate to the grand entrance of the mansion, magical lanterns lined the pathway, casting a radiant glow.
Everywhere Charlotte looked, lights sparkled like stars scattered across the garden, and the fountains shimmered like cascading jewels.
As befitted a grand marquis’ masquerade ball, the long line of carriages moved slowly. Guests who had been invited were gradually making their way inside.
Inside the carriage, which had yet to enter the gate, Charlotte gazed at the mansion in awe.
“Wow… this is incredible.”
“The Chester Marquis’ balls are famous for being fun.”
“So that’s why so many people come.”
“That, and on the last day of the festival, noble houses cannot hold their own balls.”
“…?”
“The royal palace hosts a ball that day.”
Ah, so with the palace ball happening, nobles couldn’t attend other gatherings, which explains why everyone flocked here to enjoy themselves.
“Charlotte, it’s time to put on your mask.”
Racal pointed to his own face with his right index finger.
By now, only three carriages remained ahead, slowly approaching the mansion.
Charlotte nodded and carefully lifted the mask she held in her hands. With no mirror inside the carriage, she had to be extra cautious.
“I’ll help you.”
A large hand gently cupped Charlotte’s face.
For a moment, she froze—but the soft touch guided the mask perfectly onto her face.
“I worried about picking it myself, but it suits you well.”
Racal looked pleased with his choice.
“I like it too, Racal.”
Charlotte smiled, recalling a courtesy she had almost forgotten.
“Thank you for sending me such a beautiful mask.”
Racal paused briefly as he withdrew his hand. A complex expression flickered across his silver eyes, and then he bowed slightly before putting on his own mask.
“I’m glad you liked it. I hope you’ll like the mask I’ll send you tomorrow as well.”
“We’ve arrived, sir.”
The coachman bowed politely and opened the carriage door. Charlotte carefully stepped down, holding Racal’s hand, and he gently looped his arm around hers in return.
“May I see your invitation, please?”
A servant of the Chester Marquis, wearing a blue mask, politely requested.
Racal took the invitation from his pocket and, leaning slightly toward Charlotte, whispered:
“At a masquerade, entry is decided solely by invitation, not by status. That’s why the family crest on the carriage was hidden.”
Even though Racal was the Duke of Statuar and elder brother to the emperor, the carriage had still joined the line.
“Count Able’s family will probably be here too.”
Of course—they wouldn’t refuse an invitation to a party attended by the Statuar Duke.
Charlotte smiled at the thought of the pompous Count Able. But Racal telling her this anyway…
“I might have a second round with Kate.”
“If you need a friend to help, just call on me anytime.”
Racal raised his right hand like a willing volunteer.
Charlotte felt reassured, grateful to have such a reliable ally.
“Don’t worry. Just coming here with you already means we’ve won against Kate.”
“……”
“Once Kate realizes I’m your partner, she’ll be burning with jealousy.”
At Count Able’s mansion, Kate had openly stared at Racal—her longing for him clear. Even knowing she couldn’t have him, she hoped he would glance her way at least once. But Kate… you see, the man you like so much? I’m his partner.
The ball had already begun.
The hall was even more dazzling and spacious than the one where the will had been read.
Chandeliers sparkled brighter than stars, and the hall shone as if it were daytime, alive with beautiful melodies.
At a masquerade, servants did not announce guests’ identities. But as Racal and Charlotte entered, most eyes fell on them.
Racal’s stunning appearance could not be hidden by a mask.
They exchanged polite smiles, ignoring the excess attention as they stepped further into the hall.
“You have an incredible presence.”
“I know. It’s a face that would make it impossible to steal anything unnoticed anywhere.”
An unexpected self-deprecating joke from Racal made Charlotte bite her lip to suppress a laugh.
It was true. A face that unforgettable could leave an impression with even a single glance.
“Tell me when we’re stealing later—I’ll help.”
“How?”
“While you distract everyone, I’ll sneak in and take everything for us.”
Racal glanced sideways at her, eyes gleaming.
“You’ll be my accomplice?”
“Why be an accomplice? We’ll commit the perfect crime.”
“How?”
“We’ll figure that out when the time comes. When we really steal something.”
“Alright, it’s a promise.”
“Yes. A promise.”
“Ah, the Duke has arrived!”
While they playfully plotted future crimes, a middle-aged couple welcomed Racal. The man, wearing a black mask, had a distinguished white beard.
Racal nodded slightly.
“Thank you for inviting me, Marquis Chester.”
Charlotte curtsied gracefully, holding her dress.
“Even with a magnificent mask, your beauty cannot be hidden, milady. Which house do you belong to?”
“No.”
“Pardon?”
“It’s a secret.”
