Chapter 13
Every step Cassel and Blair took closer to the hall stirred more murmurs among the crowd.
“Unbelievable, it’s the end of the world. So it’s true he really married a commoner.”
“Seriously, I thought she’d look like a scullery maid, but she’s actually quite beautiful.”
“With looks like that, I can see why the Marquis would be taken in.”
“Still just a commoner. Sharing a banquet with one? How disgraceful.”
‘I can hear you all, you idiots.’
The sharp, openly hostile stares pouring in were more intense than Blair had expected. She felt like some animal in a zoo on display. She swallowed hard without realizing it.
“Focus only on me.”
Cassel spoke in a low, quiet voice only she could hear. He held her hand a bit tighter, as if to say, Just trust me.
‘Seriously? How did he know I was getting tense? It actually makes me feel calmer.’
He really did have an uncanny instinct for reading the room. Blair let out a tiny inward laugh. Then, after nodding slightly, she stepped forward with confident strides.
“It’s been a while since I’ve seen you at a banquet, Lord Hermann.”
After a few steps, a man with dark brown hair approached Cassel and greeted him. His neatly styled hair and far more lavish formal uniform than the others clearly marked him as a prince.
“He’s the First Prince. Just follow what you were taught.”
Cassel slightly turned his head to whisper to her. The First Prince? Wait. Laine had given her a rough rundown of the princes’ names and roles…
First, better greet him properly.
“It’s been a while, Your Highness.”
“I greet Your Highness, the Prince.”
Cassel and Blair quickly gave him a proper bow.
“So the rumors were true. I thought it was nonsense that you, who even refused to marry my sister, suddenly got married. Congratulations.”
“Thank you.”
Blair, still slightly bowing as etiquette required, lifted her head just enough to take in the First Prince’s relaxed smile.
Dark, straight eyebrows. A strong jaw. An air of certainty in his gaze.
She remembered.
‘Friedrich Leon Bayern.’
As Cassel and the prince exchanged idle pleasantries, Blair quickly pieced together her memory.
At thirty this year, he was the Emperor’s eldest son—though not the Empress’s legitimate heir. He’d earned significant merit in the unification wars and had dealt with troublesome barbarians, giving him political influence and favor.
‘No wonder he has that confident look in his eyes.’
Under normal circumstances, he’d already have been crowned Crown Prince, but the power-hungry Emperor still hadn’t named any of his four sons heir apparent. So he remained the First Prince.
“To think you’d defy our father someday. How curious.”
Lost in thought, Blair’s ears caught the Prince’s firm voice. When she turned her eyes slightly, she met his gaze—one full of curiosity, not contempt. He idly tapped the rim of his wine glass with his finger as if prodding her thoughts.
“I only wished not to bring shame upon Her Highness the Princess.”
“Shame? You’re too modest. Any woman in this Empire would gladly have you. And I’m not mocking you—I actually find all of this quite amusing.”
He replied with a faintly crooked smile, his gaze still fixed on Blair.
“Father must have been deeply annoyed. He didn’t look too pleased when I saw him this morning. You should be careful when you meet him later.”
“Thank you for your concern.”
“It’s nothing.”
Just as Blair felt relief that the conversation seemed to be wrapping up, the Prince stopped tapping his glass and turned to her.
“By the way… Madam. Would you visit the palace sometime to chat with my wife? She’s feeling unwell and couldn’t attend today, but she’s very curious about you.”
What’s he up to now? Blair hid her unease behind a bright smile.
“Yes, Your Highness. If you summon me, I’ll gladly come.”
＊＊＊
One hour later.
“These noble lords live exhausting lives, honestly.”
Blair muttered under her breath, shaking her head slightly.
‘They say I wouldn’t be welcomed, but…’
From Blair’s point of view, she’d never seen such an intense welcome—though so intense it felt like she’d be set on fire any minute.
The nobles who approached them fell into two clear camps.
Half were people hoping to scrape some benefit off Cassel. The other half were eager to pick Blair apart for rising from a commoner to a Marquis’s wife overnight. And then there were the rest—those who simply ignored them with elegant, icy indifference.
“‘Sometimes I just don’t understand why my servants act the way they do. I’ll have to ask you, Madam, since you must know better.’ Really? Do they always talk like that?”
Cassel let out a faint laugh at Blair’s incredulous look.
“I think we’re mostly done here now. You can eat as much as you’d like.”
“Don’t joke. If I eat my fill here, rumors will spread that the Marquis married a pig, not a wife. I’ll just have a nice glass of champagne instead.”
“I’ll say it again—except when you’re alone with me, absolutely no overdrinking.”
Cassel stared at Blair, who had already grabbed two glasses of champagne in the blink of an eye.
“Don’t worry. Champagne like this doesn’t even reach my liver.”
Blair grinned, nudging Cassel’s arm with her elbow.
“Still, you handled them quite cleverly. I should commend your special tutor for their efforts.”
“Excuse me? Isn’t the order backwards? I’d say it’s because I’m a brilliant student who understands ten things when taught one.”
“A good teacher raises good students.”
Cassel pressed a finger to smooth out the slight frown between Blair’s brows.
“Oh come on, don’t do that—give me a proper compliment—”
“Blair, wait.”
Suddenly, Cassel wrapped an arm around her waist and gently pulled her into him. A royal attendant carrying a tray full of wine had nearly bumped into her, and he’d protected her.
“Oh! That was close. Thank you.”
“My apologies, Marchioness.”
“Look where you’re going.”
Cassel’s cold voice made the attendant bow low. Blair looked up at him, startled by a tone she hadn’t heard before.
“Cassel?”
“Apologize properly.”
It was just a near miss—did they really need an apology for that? Blair thought it unnecessary, but Cassel didn’t budge. Eventually, the pale-faced attendant bowed again, even lower.
“I was disrespectful to the Marchioness. Please forgive me.”
“…It’s fine. You may go.”
“Thank you for your generosity.”
The attendant bowed once more, then vanished entirely from the hall.
Watching this, Blair glanced at Cassel. Feeling her eyes, he turned slightly and reached out—leaning closer as if to fix her necklace, he lowered his voice.
“Someone put him up to that.”
“What?”
“A royal attendant wouldn’t make such a basic mistake. Someone ordered him to spill wine on you.”
“Oh.”
So petty and childish. Blair peeked over Cassel’s shoulder.
‘Wait a minute…’
The eyes that had been sneaking glances at them all scattered in an instant like startled thieves.
They looked away as if they’d seen something shocking, but the soft murmurs continued. Blair spotted the groups of women gathered with fans open, hiding their faces—and a thought flickered in her mind.
‘Actually, the master has never been interested in marriage, so everyone was terribly worried…’
It was something Emma had quietly told her when they first met.
‘Could it be…’
