Chapter 13
The Silver Fairy
Robert Grizaia, while staying at the resort, often left the Royal Suite of Hotel Gatharic, where he was always lodged, and walked along the garden paths adorned with summer flowers like zinnias and pentas.
Gatharic was built along a small hill, spreading out in a fan-like structure from top to bottom in a stepped formation.
The top floor housed the bar and restaurant, and in a separate building on the same level, the suite rooms were located.
Each room had a balcony opening onto a wide garden leading down the hill. When moving through the hotel, Robert primarily used these garden paths in the back to get around, preferring them over walking the indoor staircases to the venue.
Being a royal—especially the crown prince—meant his movements were already restricted, and even his daily schedule was far from his own.
Robert valued the little time he could call his own. For him, privacy meant a state where his family or their associates could not interfere, disregarding his wishes.
Dressed in a black leather tailcoat, Robert grimaced slightly as he thought about the family members who had infringed on his privacy.
His life in the knight academy, studied alongside university, had shaped him into a strong, manly figure.
Upon graduating from university, he severed ties with bad companions. Now, he was hosting tonight’s masquerade ball himself.
Since turning twenty, his grandmother, the queen, had repeatedly tried to arrange a marriage for him. The death of Robert’s father, her son, in the previous war, was a significant factor.
Originally, there should have been another twenty years before he became king and Robert succeeded him. But his clever grandmother, citing old age, constantly hinted at retirement.
Inevitably, her hints came with the expectation of Robert’s engagement or marriage.
As a result, tea parties and arranged meetings with noble daughters of the kingdom and empire were scheduled nearly every week.
Growing weary of it all, Robert overheard the Gatharic’s general manager complaining about wanting to organize some summer event, so he suggested hosting a masquerade ball…
“Listening constantly to my noisy sister and grandmother’s advice makes me feel as if my life is already over.”
“It is your first marriage. Your Highness, finding a partner yourself could be one approach,” the general manager replied, walking slightly behind him.
He, too, wore a black tailcoat.
A first marriage. It made sense that marrying someone he could choose and share time with—rather than being forced into a union by others—was the right path.
“Alex, if you hadn’t suggested this, I wouldn’t have even considered it.”
Alex, Robert’s university friend and former mischievous companion, had graduated that spring and inherited the position of general manager at Gatharic.
Robert’s friend’s suggestion became the catalyst for the masquerade ball. It allowed Robert to repay a debt to his friend while still keeping an excuse to find a proper marriage partner.
“What if you don’t find anyone?”
Alex asked mischievously, slipping back into their familiar casual tone.
With guards before and behind, the six of them descended the hill via the hotel’s courtyard stairs.
Robert sensed his friend’s malice in asking a question he couldn’t easily answer.
“Grandmother will probably prepare another candidate anyway.”
“Let’s hope Her Majesty’s anxiety is resolved by next week.”
The ideal woman would likely appear tonight.
Being able to say such selfish things because they were strangers made Robert frown.
Still, there was no denying the possibility of meeting such a woman. Nearly a hundred women, from the kingdom, the empire, and even overseas, had been invited.
All had purchased tickets worth one hundred gold coins just to meet Robert.
They were wealthy, well-born, and included daughters of noble or affluent families.
Robert had imposed a few conditions for the invitations.
The first: the ability to purchase a ticket—reflecting the kingdom’s custom that brides provide a dowry, avoiding disputes.
The second: they must be unmarried and have never given birth, refined ladies aged sixteen to twenty-four.
The third was less critical: a certain level of beauty. He did not seek extreme beauty, which could cause political scandal, nor did he require a model-like physique or a particular height, as long as no woman surpassed his tall stature in heels.
He did not expect a beauty that would make everyone turn, though being attractive was a bonus for a partner in a long life together.
The six passed through the hotel’s tightly secured paths, accessible only to limited guests, making their way to the venue.
A guard opened the door to the hallway leading to the ballroom. As they passed through, Robert noticed a woman.
She walked toward them, about to lean against a wall of white marble.
Her dress exposed much of her back, emphasizing the beauty of her elegantly coiffed silver-blonde hair.
The glow of magical lamps reflected off the marble, casting a soft orange hue.
Standing there, the beautiful woman shone like a living fairy with silver, translucent wings.
