Chapter 52
Shut away in her workshop, concocting potions, Laria read the letter a crow had delivered.
“So, you couldn’t find him.”
She hadn’t really expected much anyway.
If someone had dared to openly use forbidden magic at an auction, it meant they had something to rely on.
As expected, it turned out he had been using another person’s identity.
And since he was capable of using brainwashing magic, tracking him down would be impossible.
Laria set the letter aside and fell into thought.
“A sacrifice…”
Using forbidden magic required a large amount of blood, and there were limits when it came from the caster alone.
In the past, sorcerers obsessed with forbidden arts had kidnapped people and drained their blood.
If Marquis Hashir was still practicing forbidden magic, then he must be receiving blood and bodies from somewhere.
Laria drew a circle on the letter to indicate she understood.
She tied the reply to the crow’s leg and gave it a treat.
The crow swallowed the snack in one bite and quietly flew away.
Watching the bird disappear into the distance, Laria swallowed a sigh.
“When will I be able to shake this off?”
Every time her mind wandered, Zenox would suddenly intrude into her thoughts.
The image of him from the recent bank robbery incident kept replaying in her head.
“That young lady is Hayang, isn’t she?”
Surely he must have known something to ask such a thing.
It wasn’t a question that would come out of normal reasoning.
She had wanted to ask why he suspected her of being Hayang, but she restrained herself.
The more she said, the more disadvantageous it would become for her.
“I’ll have to avoid him for now.”
At least until she knew the reason for Zenox’s suspicion.
Of course, if she avoided him too blatantly, it would look strange… so at the very least, she wouldn’t seek him out first.
Zenox, for his part, hadn’t asked to see her again either.
“Still, he looked like he knew who was behind the brainwashing magic.”
He hadn’t said who, but it was enough that he knew.
“…That’s a relief, I suppose.”
Better than knowing nothing.
Murmuring along with her thoughts, Laria began preparing ingredients again.
When she saw the heap of lovewort stacked in the corner, another sigh escaped.
“Why is everyone suddenly after love potions?”
Not long ago, Solike had delivered a massive order.
It was called a love potion, but in truth, it was just something that made the drinker appear more attractive to the one they fancied.
Perhaps it was the season for romance… or maybe the debutantes of society were preparing.
“But the social season is still a little far off.”
Whatever the reason, this was a chance to earn, so she needed to work diligently.
Her hands were stained green from trimming the herbs.
She was just about to throw them into the cauldron when a servant came looking for her.
“My lady, an invitation from the Imperial Palace has arrived!”
In the servant’s hand gleamed a golden envelope.
Wiping her hands on a handkerchief, Laria took the envelope.
Too lazy to bother carefully, she ripped it open, and elegant calligraphy caught her eyes.
“A palace banquet?”
“There’ve been rumors for a while now that the palace would be hosting a ball.”
Apparently everyone knew but her.
She really had been living in a daze lately.
Banquet… though invitations had come before, she rarely attended.
“They say this one will be among the largest banquets in recent years.”
Hearing that made her even less inclined to go.
When she was younger, as a curious foxkin, she had loved attending such events.
But all she ever heard there were unpleasant whispers, so at some point she had lost interest.
“Do I really need to go…?”
The invitation did clearly say Laria Rohan, but was attendance truly necessary?
The servant hesitated, then slipped her another letter.
“Actually, there was also a letter from His Grace the Grand Duke…”
Laria unfolded the additional letter.
It was an invitation to attend the banquet together.
So Zenox had already known about it.
If he too had received an invitation, she had no choice but to attend.
With rumors of their relationship already widespread, if she showed up alone, who knew what gossip might follow.
How could this happen right after she resolved to avoid him?
Laria despaired at this turn of fate—whether coincidence or inevitability.
“I’ll write the reply myself…”
“Yes, my lady. Then I’ll go start the preparations.”
“Preparations? What preparations?”
She hadn’t even planned to go out. Seeing Laria’s puzzled face, the servant answered solemnly:
“For the banquet, of course.”
“…But there are still ten days left?”
“It’s actually already a bit late.”
What on earth were they planning?
Watching her servant’s retreating figure, unease prickled through her.
Time flew by, and the day of the banquet finally arrived.
In the meantime, she and Zenox had exchanged a few letters.
[I will come to fetch you on the day of the banquet.]
Even her family, usually indifferent to such events, insisted on attending once they heard Laria would be going.
Before dawn, she was dragged out of bed three hours early and shoved into a bath.
Half-asleep, she let the servants wash, dry, and dress her.
By the time she properly regained her senses, her makeup was already finished.
“Oh my, what are we to do? Our lady is the most beautiful of all.”
“What if everyone can’t take their eyes off her?”
“The Grand Duke will fall for her twice over.”
“Don’t joke about such frightening things.”
“S-sorry…”
Laria only blinked at their chatter.
Her reflection in the mirror looked strangely unfamiliar.
Her features were left untouched, only her charms emphasized, leaving even her momentarily stunned.
“The makeup’s good, huh?”
“No, my lady—you are beautiful.”
“It’s just that you hardly ever wear makeup.”
Indeed, painting her face while she stayed home had always felt pointless.
Once makeup and hair were done, it was time to dress her.
Zenox had practically raided the boutique, sending her armloads of clothes, even a few custom-made dresses.
“Your skin is so flawless everything suits you—it’s hard to choose.”
“Much as I hate to admit it, His Grace’s eye for fashion is excellent.”
In the end, the servants selected a pale sky-blue gown.
Softer than the color of her eyes, it highlighted her fair, white skin.
She finished the look with the earrings and necklace Zenox had gifted her.
“At this rate, is anything in my wardrobe even mine?”
Somehow, his gifts had taken over her dressing room.
Since she rarely dressed up, she hadn’t realized until now.
By the time she was ready, her family, already dressed, came to see her.
“Laria…!”
Theodore clamped a hand over his mouth, while Semella looked her over as if to burn the sight into memory.
Only Herdin teased from the side.
“Who are you dressing up for?”
“Exactly! How can you be this pretty?”
Flustered, Theodore looked ready to cry.
Laria had heard it all since dawn, so she answered flatly:
“Since it’s my first banquet with His Grace, I thought I should dress up.”
The three of them immediately scowled.
They had already heard about the bank robbery incident—how the Grand Duke had rushed in to save Laria when she’d been taken hostage.
That had slightly improved their opinion of him, but only slightly.
Semella’s lips trembled as she glanced at her husband and son.
Down with the Grand Duke.
The three exchanged covert looks behind Laria’s back.
“…His Grace is waiting for you downstairs,” Semella said grudgingly.
“Thank you. I’ll go with him. See you at the banquet!”
Taking a deep breath, Laria descended the stairs.
She already felt overwhelmed at the thought of sharing a carriage with Zenox.
But she had to speak with him beforehand, before entering the banquet hall, so there was no choice.
At the entrance, a familiar figure came into view—yet no matter how many times she saw him, his appearance never became ordinary.
Tonight, Zenox wore a sharp uniform adorned with a light chain.
The cut emphasized his lean yet strong physique.
The dark colors contrasted vividly with the polished armor pieces.
His usually unruly hair was swept lightly aside, revealing a clear forehead.
What little boyishness had lingered was gone—before her stood a grown, confident young man.
Sensing her gaze, Zenox turned his head slowly.
She expected him to greet her first, but instead he parted his lips without speaking, visibly struck.
It had been a long time since she’d seen such a startled expression on his face.
So Laria greeted him first.
“Good afternoon. Thank you for coming to fetch me.”
“Did you dress… in the things I gave you?”
Instead of returning her greeting, he asked a different question.
The intent of it was unclear, and Laria tilted her head.
“Does it look strange?”
A faint satisfaction crossed Zenox’s face. He stepped closer, smoothed a loose strand of her hair, and whispered—
“…This isn’t so bad either.”
