Episode 7

Ariel hesitated for a moment at the commotion spilling out from beyond the door.

It was a routine she had performed countless times, yet today she felt unusually tense. There was someone waiting for her.

She took a deep breath and straightened her posture.

It was almost time for her entrance.

Ariel stepped in just as the guests at the reading were introducing themselves and the atmosphere had reached its peak of interest and curiosity.

Like the climax of a play.

Though she always felt embarrassed when being introduced, Count Bronte insisted on the order.

It was a familiar ritual by now, yet today her heart refused to calm.

“Today’s reader, Ariel Amilia.”

Count Bronte turned toward the door.

“Please, enter, Miss Ariel!”

Milla whispered, clenching her fist.

Ariel pressed her lips together, then loosened them, and stepped forward.

As she entered the parlor, which had been widened and remodeled for the reading, a peculiar silence fell.

Had she made a mistake?

Normally, even if not thunderous, there would have been applause and greetings, but the room was silent as if doused in cold water.

Had something happened before she arrived?

But the sounds spilling from the hallway were lively and cheerful.

Thus, this stillness must have originated from her. Yet, she could not understand why.

Ariel held the doorknob and looked at Count Bronte.

When their eyes met, he flinched as if awakened from sleep, then gave a gentle smile.

The strange silence did not seem to be her fault. If it were, Bronte would not have smiled so kindly.

He extended his hand to her, prompting her to take her place.

“It seems Ariel has cast a spell like the book she’s reading today. Gentlemen, awaken from Ariel’s magic. Come now.”

As Count Bronte clapped, the guests gradually focused on her.

“Welcome, Ariel. I’m really looking forward to the book you’ll read.”
“We met once before. Could I ask for your critique after you finish?”
“Duchamp, no cutting in line. Miss Ariel promised to review my work at the last gathering.”

Everyone eagerly spoke to Ariel.

“Miss Ariel.”

Amid the chaos, a low, deep voice reached her ears. Once, she had found this voice irresistible, but now it grated like mosquitoes buzzing on a summer night.

Following the sound, she turned and saw Blake.

He looked the same. Lavishly adorned like a male peacock, confident, acting as though controlling her was his natural right.

“Have you been well, Ariel? I received the letter you sent last time.”

He subtly flaunted that they were in private correspondence, a display that made her stomach churn.

Clenching her fists, Ariel suppressed the urge to lash out.

“Duke Blake, you’ve come.”

She managed to greet him politely despite her inner turmoil.

“Red suits you beautifully.”

That courteous greeting was followed by Blake’s flirtation. Ariel ignored it and moved toward her prepared seat.

‘Something’s different.’

Blake raised an eyebrow, studying her bare shoulder.

‘Very different.’

Not long ago, she would light up at his sight, practically wagging her tail with joy. Now, she showed no delight, entirely absorbed in something else.

Determined to find out what that was, Blake looked around. At the same time, Ariel scanned the room.

‘Has Count Schumiern arrived?’

Her anxious eyes fixed on a single point. There he was—Count Schumiern Conte Cervandes!

He stood at the far edge by the window, seemingly uninterested in the reading or Ariel.

Ariel, dressed to impress him, felt a twinge of frustration.

‘No need to panic. There are plenty of ways to catch his attention.’

She calmed herself and picked up her book.

‘This won’t do…’

Flipping through the pages, she closed the cover.

The curious eyes that had been eagerly watching now registered surprise.

“I’d like to apologize to everyone.”

She placed the book on a side table.

“I’ve decided to change the book I’ll read today.”

Ariel had never changed her book at a reading, nor refused the one Count Bronte had given her.

Her boldness both shocked and intrigued everyone present—except for Schumiern.

His indifferent gaze remained fixed elsewhere.

Determined, Ariel rose from her seat.

“The book I’ll read today is…”

Speaking calmly, she stepped toward Schumiern.

No one blocked her elegant path. Amid the murmurs, everyone made way for her.

As their eyes followed her to Schumiern, he finally looked up.

Only when Ariel stood right in front of him did his eyebrows lift, a flicker of emotion passing through his usually impassive eyes.

“Good day, Ariel.”

Though he had ignored her until now, Schumiern smiled first.

“Am I in your way?”

What he had been blocking wasn’t the path, but the bookshelves. He stepped aside apologetically.

His gentle eyes, the careful way he avoided touching her—classic Schumiern. Normally, she would have welcomed this attention, but Ariel was displeased.

I’ve worked to get close to you, and now you’re retreating.

Before he could fully distance himself, Ariel reached out, her fingertips brushing his ear.

“Oh, sorry. I was just taking a book down.”

She deliberately chose a book placed high near him. Pretending to apologize, she did not step back.

Instead, she rose onto her toes and leaned slightly forward.

The distance between them closed; she could see the soft fuzz on his face, their breaths mingling unintentionally.

Even an accidental brush of lips would not have been surprising. Schumiern’s gaze dropped.

Ariel wanted to capture his attention immediately. With Milla’s help, she looked quite presentable.

Yet he would not look until she stepped back with the book.

He fulfilled her expectations when she announced:

“The book I’d like to read is The Banquet of the Gloomy Anarchist by Scholar Fabryon Belle.”

Schumiern’s blue eyes sparkled intensely at the title. Their gazes locked like chains.

His eyes radiated deep curiosity.

Ariel’s plan had worked.

A thrilling sensation ran through her from head to toe.

The Banquet of the Gloomy Anarchist was practically a banned book in the Cervandes Kingdom.

It went beyond rejecting monarchy, advocating even the dissolution of the state. Its ideas disrupted order and were dangerous.

Clearly, it was ill-suited for a reading meant to flaunt intellect or convert talent into profit.

Yet no one stopped her as she ascended the platform and sat in the prepared chair, opening the cover.

Strangely, an aura emanated from her, commanding attention.

Like a siren luring sailors, like a villain turning a benevolent ruler into a tyrant—she captivated and overwhelmed.

‘This is dangerous,’ she thought.

Schumiern observed her quietly, leaving only a brief impression.

“People…”

As Ariel uttered the first words, side tables and other furniture seemed to awaken.

Every time she read a long sentence, flipped a page, or drew a sharp breath, murmurs and gasps emerged, then fell into silence.

She had enthralled them.

Schumiern, watching her with interest, concluded that he had been captivated not by the book, but by Ariel herself.

While he let the content wash over him faintly, his gaze never left her.