CHAPTER 60……..
: Masquerade Ball (2)
The one who appeared was Ileon.
Ileon appeared wearing an unusual half-mask made of black snake leather.
He was dressed in a blue uniform, which, coincidentally, matched Celia’s sky-blue dress so perfectly it seemed as if they had coordinated their outfits in advance.
“Did I forget to send an invitation to Duke Calypso, commander of the Royal Knights?”
Calling himself “I” came as naturally as flowing water.
Dietrich looked at Ileon with dry, cold eyes.
Celia did the same.
“What on earth were you thinking when you invited me?”
To Celia’s question, Ileon curled his lips slightly and replied,
“You needn’t be so wary of me. I haven’t done anything to you—yet.”
At Ileon’s words, Dietrich wrapped an arm around Celia and said,
“It seems the new emperor does not notice when his lover is uncomfortable.”
“A lover… so you acknowledge the rumors as true?”
A faint smile appeared on Ileon’s lips.
“Courageous, as always, but I hope you stop hoarding everything for yourself. That’s not like you.”
“……”
Dietrich stared at Ileon with icy eyes.
Instead of scolding Dietrich for his insolence, Ileon laughed lightly, creasing the corners of his eyes.
“Or perhaps… there’s a secret between you two that I don’t know. For example…”
Pretending to adjust his uniform, Ileon whispered in a small voice, audible only to them.
“Both of you… survivors of a kingdom that fell ten years ago?”
Before Celia could say anything, Ileon stepped back and entered the ballroom first.
Startled, Celia grabbed the hem of Dietrich’s coat.
“Just now!”
Her pupils trembled like stormy waves.
Dietrich lowered his head to meet her gaze and spoke in a gentle voice, as if reassuring her.
“It’s alright.”
“……”
“Don’t worry. There’s no one here who could harm you.”
Dietrich patted Celia’s back with his large hand.
The knights noticed that the two of them were not ordinary.
Even through their masks, their striking appearances made them look unmistakably like a couple.
A couple who clearly cherished each other.
“The Emperor, the dazzling sun of Abelon, makes his entrance!”
The ballroom stirred at Ileon’s appearance.
His ash-gray hair was styled up, revealing a smooth forehead.
Shedding the image of a gentle saint, Ileon’s uniform shimmered blue like his eyes, giving him the aura of an omnipotent ruler who could bend everything to his will.
From his entrance to each measured step, awe filled the room.
Even though he wore a mask appropriate for the masquerade, Ileon’s presence made him stand out on a completely different level.
All eyes in the ballroom immediately turned toward him.
No one could look away as he crossed the red carpet and ascended the central stairs to the stage.
Even the orchestra paused mid-note, captivated by him.
Perched on the golden throne atop the stage, Ileon accepted a goblet from his aide and spoke.
“Tonight, eat and drink without care. Dance as much as you wish.”
With that brief statement, he raised his goblet.
He offered no explanation of how he became emperor.
“To the dazzling sun!”
“To the Emperor!”
The guests raised their goblets, cheering.
Deep respect for a strong ruler, awe for one who wields such power—
Before the perfect emperor, no one dared mention the fallen royal family.
Just by appearing, Ileon solidified the association in everyone’s minds: Royalty = Ileon.
“Will Your Majesty not dance?”
The aide asked, and Ileon replied in a leisurely voice:
“I have no intention at the moment. Perhaps I might feel like it later.”
The ladies’ eyes gleamed like predatory hawks.
Whoever Ileon asked for the first dance tonight would see their value skyrocket.
‘The Emperor has always been kind to women.’
Ileon rarely appeared at important balls and never asked for a dance first.
If a woman summoned the courage to ask him to dance, he would smile and accept.
Many young ladies admired his gentle side.
One young marchioness, who had danced with him before, kept stealing glances at Ileon.
He seemed uninterested in anyone at the ball, idly resting his chin on one hand while caressing an empty goblet.
Many others had their eyes on him as well.
The ball began, but no one danced.
All the ladies’ gazes were fixed on Ileon.
A bold young nobleman who dared ask for a dance was completely ignored.
He drowned his frustration in wine.
“Your Majesty.”
Gathering her courage, the marchioness addressed Ileon.
He finally turned his gaze from the empty goblet to her.
Feeling the sharpness of his eyes, she could barely bring her lips to speak.
“If… if it’s alright, may I have the honor of our first dance…?”
“First dance?”
Ileon raised one corner of his lips.
“The courage to ask me is commendable, but I cannot accept.”
“……”
The marchioness’s cheeks flushed crimson beneath her red half-mask.
Originally, men asked women to dance.
Occasionally, a woman might request a dance, but it was extremely rare.
Refusing a woman’s dance request was considered impolite, so men rarely declined.
Before becoming emperor, Ileon never refused a woman’s request, so it was natural to expect the same now. How wrong they were.
The ladies, reluctantly accepting the refusal, began choosing other suitable men to dance with.
The orchestra played classical music, and the ballroom atmosphere slowly warmed.
Amidst the heated atmosphere, couples found secluded corners or terraces for intimate moments.
Ileon rose from his throne just as a stir broke out at the entrance of the hall.
“Duke Calypso!”
“The Angel of Brillion!”
Gasps erupted.
Indeed, his appearance could not be concealed by any mask.
A faint smile played across Ileon’s lips.
Two figures walked toward the hall entrance, radiating light even while standing still.
Tall, broad-shouldered Dietrich looked perfect in a black uniform.
Celia, escorted by Dietrich, wore a flowing sky-blue dress that highlighted nothing yet made her look like she stepped out of a masterpiece painting.
“Look there. Celia has become even more beautiful since last I saw her.”
“Indeed, raising her is worth it. Anyone would covet her.”
Vincent and the Marquis of Brillion gazed greedily at Celia.
At that moment, Dietrich’s sharp gaze fixed on two men near the left wall.
“Why does Duke Calypso seem to be staring at us? We’re quite far away.”
“…Probably your imagination. Ahem. Everyone’s wearing masks.”
Yet Dietrich’s blade-like stare clearly targeted the two men.
Feeling the threat, they quickly averted their gaze.
Only then did Dietrich resume walking, eyes forward.
Gasps followed every step of Celia and Dietrich.
Ileon descended the central staircase with elegant steps.
Approaching the pair, he smiled at Celia.
“…Celia Brillion.”
Celia, holding Dietrich’s hand, met his gaze with a cold expression.
Her fresh green eyes were filled with both resentment and hatred toward him.
A darkness with no bottom.
A depth beneath her beauty that intrigued Ileon.
He bowed slightly and extended one hand.
A smooth palm, untouched by hardship.
Celia stared at the hand presented before her.
“I would like the honor of dancing the first dance with you.”
The violinist lost contact with the string, producing a discordant sound.
The entire ballroom was stunned.
It was surprising enough that Celia had arrived escorted by Dietrich, but now Ileon had asked her for the first dance.
“…What on earth is happening?”
“She has so much luck. Her talent to captivate men is insane. No matter how beautiful, could she really be a witch as rumored?”
The ladies whispered behind her.
“If she’s not a fool, she won’t refuse the Emperor’s dance request, right?”
“Of course not. What an honor that would be.”
Celia alternated between looking at Ileon’s hand and his sharp eyes beneath the black snake mask.
This was a test prepared for her.
A scenario designed so that she would accept his dance request in confusion.
Ileon must have been confident: she would never refuse.
Celia’s eyes glinted coldly at his relaxed smile.
She hovered over his hand, then suddenly withdrew it.
“I will refuse Your Majesty’s dance request.”
