#010. Two Princes
People began to murmur.
The social circle was, at its core, a gathering of gossipers. Otherwise, why would they care so much about others’ attention?
Janice began to think. Fortunately, she had enough experience in high society to compensate for whatever she lacked in intellect.
In situations like this, she knew all too well who would be treated as virtuous and who would be branded as wicked.
“A noble must be generous in forgiving the faults of those beneath them. That is what we call dignity.”
Janice, calmly smiling as she spoke of dignity, appeared quite absurd from Anastasia’s perspective.
Had that so-called “minor mistake” been directed at Janice instead of Anastasia, Diana’s eyes would never have seen the sunlight of the next morning.
Still, Janice’s manner of emphasizing noble conduct while pressuring herself was something worth learning from. Narrowing her eyes, Anastasia etched that seasoned composure into her mind.
“By the way, Anastasia.”
“What?”
“Are you hurt? Your sister is worried about you.”
Janice calmly approached, then turned her back to Anastasia.
She was now facing the gathered crowd.
“I am Janice Etranger, the first daughter of the House of Etranger. I would like to apologize for my inexperienced younger sister’s careless mistake in disturbing the atmosphere.”
A mocking smile spread across Anastasia’s lips.
This was interesting.
She hadn’t expected things to unfold this way. Anastasia realized she would need to become more cunning herself.
But she had no intention of backing down. After all, she was not the one who stood to lose reputation here.
Sorban’s doll. A tool for maintaining the power of the House of Etranger. A beautiful weapon of war…
Those were the titles she had carried until her death.
Only one—
The name bestowed upon her by the king when she was granted the status of court mage: “The Great Witch of Osmanthus”—was something she had liked.
Janice turned once more, ignoring Anastasia, and bowed to Louis.
“I deeply apologize for my sister’s lacking and rude behavior, Your Highness.”
Anastasia’s gaze sharpened.
It couldn’t be helped.
The very people who had tormented her all her life were standing right before her.
And shamelessly at that.
Acting as though they had done nothing wrong.
Chiding her again with innocent faces.
“Is that so?”
Louis Yanpoth had originally been in a position to mediate this conflict.
As the host of the ball, it was best for everything to proceed smoothly, gracefully, and without incident.
However, even after his butler had given him a subtle warning, Louis chose to let the situation unfold.
“It would be interesting to see how Anastasia responds.”
The Anastasia Etranger he had heard rumors about and the woman standing before him—standing straight-backed—were quite different.
Moreover, it had been ten years since their last meeting.
It was impossible not to feel something.
Watching Janice, Anastasia let out a clear sigh.
“Once…”
At that single word, Janice’s speech was cut off, and everyone’s attention returned to Anastasia.
“There was a time when I thought your demeanor was beautiful and elegant, sister.”
Her words were gentle, but her tone was not.
“But not anymore.”
Aslan’s face twisted.
“Sister. Why are you speaking like that?”
“Quiet, Aslan.”
With just a glance, Anastasia subdued him. The overwhelming presence of the Great Witch seemed as though it might crush everything with unseen force.
Aslan shrank back under the depths of her gaze.
Instinctively, yet in that moment, his worth as a man was diminished before every lady present.
“…Anastasia.”
Janice’s eyes held pity. But Anastasia knew better than anyone that even that was an act. Even if she stepped closer, took her hand, and shed tears, she would not be deceived anymore.
“Enough. Even if you hate me, we should settle this within the family. It is only proper etiquette for the prince who hosted this party, and for the honored guests in attendance. No matter how capable a mage you are, you cannot do as you please within our family as you once did. Do you understand?”
Then she bowed her head gracefully to the audience once more.
“I apologize. Please forgive our sisters for showing such disgraceful behavior before Your Highness and the esteemed guests.”
This was slightly more effective than Aslan’s actions. After all, Janice was the jewel of high society.
Therefore, her words carried weight.
Janice used the fact that internal family matters were not easily exposed to the outside world to paint Anastasia as a “reckless girl who relied only on magic to stir up the family.”
But that might have worked in the past—not anymore.
“I’m the one who’s being insulted here. Not her.”
“Anastasia!”
“Not only in front of the nobles gathered here from all walks of life, but even before the First Prince, you dare mock the dignity of the royal family… I’m sorry, Lord Hossengel. My sister likely did not intend to tarnish your honor.”
Her calm, low voice was unmistakably laced with sarcasm.
Implied within her words was: “My sister is simply lacking in judgment.”
“…What are you talking about?”
“Who exactly is staining the name of their house in front of the royal family? Do you really think that Lord Hossengel, whose skill is recognized by the crown, would attach plaster to the shoes meant to be worn at a royal ball?”
Anastasia’s tone was low and cold.
Janice trembled, as did Diana behind the duchess. Janice from anger, Diana from fear.
“The only people who could have touched my shoes were the staff dispatched by Esteban Hossengel… and Diana, whom my sister is currently hiding.”
The gazes of the gossipers darted between Anastasia and Janice.
“Think carefully.”
Janice’s swallowing sound seemed unnaturally loud.
And it was a woman’s scream that broke the long silence and tension.
“Eeeeeek!”
From far away, in a corner, the crowd began to part like a sea before a prophet.
A thick scent of blood pierced the air.
“Artorius.”
Though cleaned, the lingering scent of blood could not be completely erased.
Still, everyone was in awe.
Though slightly distorted, that silver armor surpassed even the craftsmanship of the king’s own.
Lord Hossengel in particular was captivated by the sword at his back—the hilt, guard, and ornate pommel.
Artorius stood before Anastasia and knelt on one knee. Removing his helmet and placing it on the ground, he stole the breath of the young ladies whose eyes were drawn to his face.
“My lady.”
“Speak.”
“I arrived late after eliminating all the assassins that were pursuing you. Please punish me for failing in my duty as your escort.”
Abyss.
He who wielded a great curse that drew power from all darkness would never be unaware of Anastasia’s location and safety at this hour.
He likely already knew everything, like a beast hearing the rustle of a small creature from afar.
And yet he came here to save her from trouble.
From this awkward situation.
There was no way to end everything here. Moreover, even with prior expectations, this side had not suffered no losses…
In that case, it would be best to make the most memorable exit.
Artorius willingly became part of that stage.
“So, are there no more threats to me?”
Anastasia extended her hand to him. Artorius gently took it and kissed the back of her hand before rising.
“No. The assassins are all dead—but—”
His piercing blue gaze shifted toward Lord Sorban.
Sparks seemed to fly in the air.
“I failed to strike down the mastermind, even though I knew who it was. That is my grave mistake.”
Anastasia shook her head, then turned to look up at Louis.
“Louis.”
“…Ah, y-yes.”
Seeing the foolish expression on the prince of Yanpoth, Anastasia let out a light smile.
People she could now move like chess pieces in her hand…
Why had she feared them so much in her past life?
“I’m leaving now. Aren’t you going to say goodbye?”
Louis was too distracted by Anastasia to notice the knight behind her.
“Goodbye?”
“Yes. Like ten years ago. You told me then—that this was how one greets at the end of a social gathering.”
“…Ah.”
It seemed the memory had finally returned.
Anastasia glanced lightly at Janice, then waited for Louis to bow slightly.
A kiss on the left cheek.
A kiss on the right cheek.
Another on the left cheek.
No lips touched the cheeks—only light, polite gestures.
As Anastasia turned to leave, Louis spoke while watching her back.
“…Will I have to wait another ten years to see you again, Anastasia?”
“No.”
Anastasia declared firmly, then reached out to Artorius.
It would not do for a lady to walk barefoot. A knight must serve as her carriage until she reached one.
“The next time you host a social gathering, I will definitely attend.”
Wrapped in Artorius’s arms, Anastasia made her promise.
Louis’s expression softened slightly.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
Anastasia found the entire situation amusing—the attention on her, and the fact that the First Prince was still swayed by youthful feelings from long ago.
Perhaps Janice, who was two or three years older than her, had noticed this early and locked herself away in a tower.
“Let’s go, Artorius.”
“Yes, my lady.”
As Artorius moved, the crowd parted again like waves in scripture.
He deliberately passed by Lord Sorban.
And in a low voice only Sorban and Anastasia could hear, he said:
“Do try again.”
“…My lady?”
Enoch sprang up in alarm from the driver’s seat. What on earth had happened for the music in the ballroom to stop, and for the lady to arrive barefoot in a knight’s arms?
“Nothing happened, Enoch.”
“And you expect me to believe that, my lady?”
Enoch let out a sigh.
“I’m just a bit tired… can we explain later?”
“Then what is Diana doing right now while my lady is like this? Was she not inside?”
The air instantly froze. Enoch realized he had misspoken.
“Diana…”
Anastasia spoke slowly.
“She’s fired as of today.”
Enoch nodded after seeing her expression. Watching Artorius place Anastasia into the carriage, he took up the reins again and asked:
“Sir knight.”
“What is it?”
“Did you truly kill them all?”
His voice trembled slightly. On the way back to the estate, they would have to pass corpses marked with the family insignia.
“Not a single one left alive.”
Artorius’s words were as sharp as a blade. Enoch exhaled at the heavy scent of blood.
“Oh, heavens…”
Was he expected to understand all of this and restrain himself at her command?
Enoch’s silent prayer was observed by Artorius.
After finishing his prayer to God and opening his eyes again, the old coachman’s gaze regained its clarity. From the moment he chose her over betraying the duke’s orders, there was no turning back.
And he did not regret it.
“The lady has changed greatly.”
Artorius replied as he sat beside the coachman.
“She will reclaim all that is rightfully hers.”
