Chapter 27
“Enjoying the party?”
“Does it look like I’m enjoying it?”
Kalen sighed, his voice laced with exhaustion.
Randol, amused, couldn’t help but chuckle.
“You could at least use this opportunity to pick your future bride. From what I saw earlier, you were practically buried under a pile of noble ladies.”
“I can’t tell who’s who. Once they put on a dress and makeup, they all look the same.”
“Tsk, tsk… And yet somehow you manage to run that massive estate of yours. I heard you even oversee the mines and the port yourself.”
“Because numbers are precise. They all have different values.”
“Exactly my point. Just like numbers, each lady is different too. Try to see that for once.”
Randol’s advice made Kalen narrow his eyes.
“You’re in no position to lecture me. Weren’t you planning to choose a fiancée at this very party?”
“I am. And by the way—you look pale.”
“I know. This should help.”
El leaned in closer, trying to catch every word.
Chocolate? Is he eating chocolate again? Is he feeling faint?
A wave of worry swept over her.
“You okay?”
“Thanks to this, yeah. But, actually…”
Kalen’s voice dropped to a murmur, as if he were about to say something important.
El immediately pressed herself against the corner wall to hear better.
She didn’t dare peek around the corner—she felt like Kalen would be right there if she did.
So she hunched low and pressed herself flat against the wall, barely breathing.
Meanwhile, Randol paused.
Something felt… off.
He glanced behind Kalen and caught a glimpse of fabric fluttering—part of a dress disappearing around the hallway’s bend.
Is someone eavesdropping on us?
Randol’s expression shifted.
Noticing it, Kalen tilted his head in confusion.
“What is it?”
“Shh.”
Putting a finger to his lips, Randol began silently creeping toward the corner.
The fabric flashed into view again—then vanished.
Someone was listening.
He picked up his pace, then lunged.
Thud!
“Aaah!”
“Who’s there?”
A startled girl looked up at him, her wide aquamarine eyes full of shock.
Randol barked again,
“State your name and house!”
The sudden movement and the force with which he’d grabbed her wrist and shoved her against the wall left El breathless.
Her back had slammed into the stone hard—but fear consumed her more than the pain.
Because now Randol’s hand was at her throat.
It was the first time she’d ever been choked.
The world around her dimmed, her lungs screamed for air.
She clawed at his hand, but he didn’t budge.
“What were you doing here?”
His voice dropped into a threatening growl as he scanned her appearance.
She looked like any ordinary noblewoman, dressed in a fine gown with elegant accessories—but appearances meant nothing.
Assassins had infiltrated the palace before, and spies sent from foreign nations were far from rare.
“Who sent you?”
El trembled under his piercing violet stare, cold and deadly.
He thinks I’m a spy. Which… I guess isn’t entirely wrong. But I’m not here to hurt anyone! I’m only trying to help Kalen’s marriage prospects…!
She gasped for air, her fingers desperately prying at Randol’s grip.
Panic surged through her—if he pressed just a bit harder, she’d suffocate.
“I… I…”
“Speak.”
“I… I can’t… breathe…”
Her stammering voice made Randol ease his grip slightly.
Gasping for air, El finally managed to choke out,
“I… I was just… following the Duke… Duke Elias…”
“Duke Elias?”
Her terrified eyes welled up with tears.
Her throat was so delicate, it looked like the slightest pressure would snap it.
She looked like any harmless aristocratic girl—voice trembling, body shaking.
So she’s not a spy? Just another desperate noble girl chasing after Callen?
That seemed more plausible.
Randol loosened his hold further, his suspicions starting to fade.
Just then, Kalen approached them.
“What’s going on?”
At the sound of his voice, El snapped back to her senses.
He can’t see me. I cannot let him see me like this.
The man in front of her was terrifying—but Callen seeing her here would be even worse.
From some unknown well of strength, El tore herself free from Randol’s grip.
“Please—don’t tell the Duke you saw me!”
Even as she fled, she crossed her arms into an urgent “X” and pleaded with all her might.
Then, just as Kalen came into view, she grabbed her dress and turned on her heel—sprinting away at full speed.
Kalen blinked.
All he saw was a finely dressed lady hitching up her gown and bolting down the corridor like a startled deer.
He watched in silence, baffled.
Randol walked over, shaking his head.
“Well… at least she’s definitely not a spy.”
Seated once more, she placed a hand over her chest and steadied her breath.
But then, she sensed something strange.
In all the commotion, she hadn’t noticed it before—but the atmosphere in the lounge was far from normal.
The young ladies who had been gathered around Kalen earlier now looked as if they were preparing for battle, glaring daggers at one another across the room.
The tension was so thick it was chilling—like a cold blade brushing the skin.
Sparks flew in their eyes, and the air between them crackled with hostility, as if they might draw real swords at any moment.
Everyone else had gone utterly silent, barely daring to breathe.
Wendis Edgar and Anna Peyton? El’s eyes darted between them.
What on earth is going on here?
There was a group clustered around Wendis, another around Anna, and then—off to the side—a third group observing from a distance, clearly unwilling to pick a side.
It wasn’t hard to figure out.
Wendice and Anna were in the middle of a standoff, and the group standing apart had chosen to remain neutral.
El, seated quietly in a corner, realized with dismay that in order to exit the lounge, she’d have to walk straight through the heart of the silent war.
Even for someone as tough-minded as El, that wasn’t an easy task.
As she hesitated, wondering what to do, her eyes lit up with sudden inspiration.
I’m supposed to be observing the young ladies anyway, aren’t I? This is perfect. If they’re really fighting over the Duke of Callen, I can focus on just these two. What luck!
Forgetting all about the pain in her wrist, El pulled a sheet of paper from her bag and began to jot down notes as she watched.
Anna was the first to speak.
“Miss Wendice, your attitude earlier was… deeply unpleasant. Is it really true that you made vacation plans with Duke Elias?”
“Do you think I’d make something like that up? He responded to my letter—asked when I planned to go on holiday.”
“He asked when you were going—not invited you to go with him, am I right?”
“…”
“And just so you know—I received a letter from him too. He was kind enough to ask how I was doing.”
Wendice faltered at that, unable to give a quick reply.
Seizing the moment, Anna’s followers nodded in agreement, whispering behind their hands as they looked pointedly at Wendis’s group.
Even El couldn’t help nodding along at that part.
