CHAPTER 59……….
: The Masquerade Ball (1)
“Masquerade ball?”
Celia opened the invitation she had received from Dietrich.
Just as he had said, the invitation was neatly written, inviting Celia to a masquerade ball the next night.
“Why me?”
Dietrich shook his head in response to Celia’s question.
“I figured if I invited you, you’d definitely show up.”
“If you don’t go, they’ll find some way to punish you for refusing the emperor’s invitation. This invitation is a trap with no way out. Going isn’t entirely safe, and not going isn’t either.”
Celia looked at the invitation with a sinking feeling.
No wonder that cruel Illeon had seemed quiet after becoming emperor—he must have been planning something nasty behind the scenes.
“I won’t let you go alone into a nest of snakes. So don’t worry too much.”
Celia never knew what expression to make when Dietrich said things like that.
“…Thank you. I know it’s a hassle for you too.”
Dietrich shook his head at her words.
“Not a hassle at all.”
Even saying that made an enormous difference. Celia felt genuine gratitude toward Dietrich.
Despite the distance they had kept from each other over the past few days, they had returned to square one.
The more she tried to push him away, the more he came closer.
Celia realized why she had come to Dietrich’s room in the first place.
Unable to forget her duty, she asked Dietrich,
“I want to hear more about this rumor that the Third Duke is the enemy.”
Leaning lazily against the sofa, Dietrich looked like a drowsy predator resting under a sunny tree.
Celia moved closer and said,
“I want you to be as detailed as possible.”
“Whatever you want,” Dietrich replied without a trace of hesitation, adding,
“If that’s what you want.”
It was the night of the masquerade ball.
The grand hall, crafted from golden stone, was dazzlingly magnificent.
The domed ceiling was adorned with multiple crystal chandeliers, and a marble staircase with a red carpet lay in the center.
From one side came the sound of an orchestra.
Everyone who received an invitation attended with their faces concealed behind masks.
The women all wore tightly laced corsets to emphasize their slim waists, dressed in their most expensive and ornate gowns.
The men, too, showed obvious effort to impress the new emperor, wearing pristine uniforms and neatly styled hair with glossy finishes.
With masks obscuring faces, it was difficult to tell who was who.
Yet, the excitement of meeting the new emperor was evident on everyone’s faces.
“When will His Majesty arrive?”
“I suppose the protagonist would make an entrance last, don’t you think?”
The ladies in white half-masks fluttered their feathered fans and chatted.
“I wonder which young lady His Majesty will ask for the first dance. Even with masks, there are so many beautiful ladies tonight.”
“Hopefully, it won’t be the Angel of Brillion. That woman devours men.”
The ladies nodded in agreement.
A young noble, eavesdropping on their conversation, quietly chimed in.
“There’s talk that the Angel of Brillion is the lover of Duke Calypso…”
One of Dietrich’s ardent female admirers immediately refuted the rumor.
“That can’t be! His Grace has been known for never looking at women.”
“…”
Through the silver half-mask, the young noble’s pale violet eyes narrowed.
“…Hmm, I hope it’s just a baseless rumor.”
After a few more meaningless exchanges, he returned to his seat.
“Father, I think Celia is here. From what I hear, she seems to be doing very well.”
The man called Father’s eyes gleamed darkly.
“Doing well even without us… how audacious, no, extremely so.”
“Exactly. If I had known, I would have stormed her room while she was sleeping.”
“Cough, Vincent. Keep quiet, there are too many ears.”
Vincent clicked his tongue in annoyance.
“You’ve even sneaked into her room before, haven’t you?”
“That… was long ago.”
“After spending good times at the tavern, why act like this now? Do you think I don’t know you? Always picking women with silver hair.”
Vincent smirked.
“You really have no limits with your father, do you?”
“Don’t be so prim. Father, I am your son. I know you better than anyone.”
Vincent licked his lips as if quenching his thirst.
“If Mother and Gabriel hadn’t sent Celia to the palace while we were enjoying ourselves at the southern resort, she would be here beside me, and no one would be calling her a witch.”
“…”
“Isn’t that right, Father?”
The Marquis of Brillion swallowed hard.
He had first seen Celia ten years ago, stumbling down a narrow alley he normally didn’t walk, drunk.
Under the faint moonlight, he met the eyes of a young girl with dirt and dust covering her face.
Though filthy, even the dirt couldn’t hide her appearance.
The Marquis brought the wandering child home and bathed her.
His wife and children shook their heads at his unusual behavior.
“What’s with bringing a street beggar? Have you finally gone mad?”
They clicked their tongues, looking at him with disdain.
Shortly after, the maid reported, her face flushed with excitement.
“M-Master…”
The maid’s stammering was unusual. The Marquis and his family turned toward the girl, freshly bathed.
Her silvery hair flowed lightly, her skin was pale and translucent, long lashes framing emerald eyes.
The girl smiled at the astonished household.
Her lifted eyes curved gently, and dimples appeared on her snow-white cheeks.
Immediately, the Marquis registered Celia as a member of the family.
His eldest son, Vincent, did not hide his lust for Celia.
Outwardly, he acted like a protective older brother to his non-blood-related sister, but inwardly, he was despicable.
“But Father, why did you bring her here in the first place?”
Vincent gestured toward a man in a black mask sitting in the corner of the hall.
Though dressed in a decent suit, his thin body and hunched posture made him look pitiful.
He was Cain, the second son of the Brillion family.
“This is a rare opportunity for Cain to even set foot in the palace. After all, it’s an invitation personally sent by His Majesty the Third Emperor.”
“…Hmph. I hope that grim fellow doesn’t cause trouble.”
Celia wore a flowing dress that did not emphasize her figure, instead of a corset.
Every movement made her sky-blue dress flutter like petals in the wind.
Dietrich frowned at her appearance behind his white half-mask.
The red eyes beneath his black mask looked uncomfortable.
“Why? Is it strange?”
“Everyone will recognize you immediately.”
“…Huh?”
“The Angel of Brillion has sprouted wings. The pack will swarm.”
“But they can’t see my face—how would they know?”
“No one will fail to recognize you as Celia.”
Celia narrowed her eyes and carefully surveyed Dietrich’s attire.
Though in black uniform, his firm body could not be concealed.
With each breath, his chest muscles tensed and relaxed beneath the buttons of his uniform.
“You’re not exactly in a position to say that to me.”
“I’m fine with it.”
“How is that fair? You’re fine, but I’m not?”
Celia bristled. Dietrich glanced toward the window and murmured softly.
“Too… conspicuous… you are.”
“?”
His voice was so soft that only fragments reached her ears.
When she didn’t understand, Dietrich changed the subject.
“I hear your non-blood-related family will also attend tonight.”
“That’s fine. They aren’t really my family anyway.”
“Then that’s a relief.”
Dietrich extended a hand to Celia.
“Shall we?”
Celia accepted his escort and entered the ballroom.
The knights checking invitations immediately recognized Dietrich despite his mask.
His squared shoulders, rock-hard muscles even under black uniform, and the crimson eyes beneath his black mask left them speechless.
Dietrich didn’t actually have an invitation.
Technically, the new Emperor Illeon had sent invitations to everyone except him.
By protocol, as the Emperor’s escort, he shouldn’t have been allowed into the ballroom.
But the man in question was Dietrich.
For knights who revered strength, the swordmaster Dietrich was almost worship-worthy.
They hesitated but eventually glanced at the woman he escorted.
Her green eyes, visible through a white half-mask, were breathtaking.
Long silver hair shimmered under the moonlight, reaching her waist.
Her red lips looked sweet enough to bite into.
“….”
They realized the woman Dietrich escorted was Celia.
“W-without an invitation…”
Before the knight could finish, Celia handed him an invitation from her bosom.
Their fingertips brushed lightly, and the knight’s Adam’s apple bobbed nervously.
Just as the rumors suggested, she could disarm a person with her presence alone.
“Remember your duty, knight,” Dietrich’s low voice admonished.
The knight snapped to attention.
There was only one invitation, but two people.
Amid the knights’ confusion, Illeon’s lazy voice could be heard.
“Just let them in.”
