Chapter 148….
“Hmm, I do have something to tell you too… but you go first.”
“No, not now. Let’s take care of business first.”
Rita shook her head slightly and looked toward the banquet hall. First, she had to accomplish why she’d come here. Only after that—slowly, with time to spare.
It wasn’t a topic she could bring up lightly.
She pushed aside her tangled thoughts and focused on the crowd. Several people were wearing red-feather decorations. There were many silver masks too, but silver masks with red feathers—those narrowed the number significantly.
The one designated had gold trimming on a half-mask, right…
Recalling the details of the mask the Grand Duke’s faction used as bait, she slipped into the crowd. Gide, who had been watching her for a moment, soon walked off in the opposite direction.
As Rita faced the masked guests, a thought surfaced.
Hannah was right. Everyone recognizes me immediately.
Even with half her face covered, her looks stood out—bright golden hair and rare violet eyes.
Anyone who recognized her as the sole daughter of the Laskail Duchy—one of the Empire’s two great ducal houses—treated her with polite caution.
Because Laskail was still a neutral faction, many people approached discreetly, trying to sway her now that she’d shown up at a party hosted by the Grand Duke’s heir.
Occasionally, she caught hints of patchouli, but it wasn’t overwhelming. Rita deliberately spread out her aura to sense the surroundings and avoid reacting too sharply.
And then she realized something.
The fact that Gide was here in this banquet hall with her… made her feel surprisingly—no, immensely—at ease.
If a real demonic beast has slipped inside, Gide will notice first.
It was reassuring and comforting. Regardless of what he might be hiding, his presence alone…
Enduring the patchouli scent, Lillieta checked each silver mask with red feathers one by one. But none matched perfectly. She didn’t spot anyone from the Crown Prince’s faction either.
If someone from the Crown Prince’s faction were here, they would naturally feel out of place. The scapegoat they plan to frame wouldn’t be someone important enough to catch attention on the opposing side…
Even at a masquerade, anonymity wasn’t absolute. The whole purpose was to hide just enough while pretending not to notice others doing the same.
But Rita wasn’t accustomed to parties or the social scene, and she couldn’t easily spot someone isolated from the flow.
…I don’t think I’m going to find them. I’ll have to hope Gide has better luck—hm?
At the edge of her vision, she caught sight of a familiar figure. Light brown hair, a recognizable frame. Rita turned her head—and soon became certain.
It’s Anne.
Annemarie den Duyreborg Everett.
Leonhardt’s former fiancée—and Rita’s older sister from childhood summers at the villa—stood in the hall wearing a white lace half-mask decorated with yellow feathers and a yellow dress.
She’s never here without Rabi. But…
She didn’t look like she was enjoying freedom from her troublemaking cousin. She looked troubled.
A man was clinging to her—Annemarie shook her head and refused him, but he wouldn’t leave. After pestering her, he suddenly grabbed her hand. Even when she startled and tried to pull away, he wouldn’t let go.
That bastard.
Rita immediately stepped over.
“It’s been a while, unni. And this man is…?”
The man, recognizing the daughter of House Laskail staring him down, quickly dropped Annemarie’s hand.
“I-I was simply asking her for a dance… my apologies.”
Mumbling excuses, he fled into the crowd. Annemarie let out a sigh and offered a faint smile.
“Thank you, Lili… It is Lili, right?”
“It is. Are you alright?”
“Yes.”
She nodded and rubbed her wrist. Rita looked around and spotted an empty sofa in a corner.
“Let’s sit over there and rest.”
The stares of people waiting for a chance to ask Annemarie to dance faded with disappointment as the two sat down.
On the way, Rita picked up a wine glass from a servant’s tray and handed it to her.
“Unni, did you come alone?”
“Yes. These days, Rabi has changed… she doesn’t really seek me out anymore. That child who used to follow me everywhere… now she doesn’t.”
Holding the glass, Annemarie let out a faint, bitter smile.
“I think thanks to you, she’s suddenly grown up. So—thank you.”
She sounded sincere, but she didn’t look happy at all.
She seemed far less lively than when she was dealing with Rabi’s chaos. Weary, shadowed, dim.
Rita wasn’t the type to circle around things.
“Did you like it better when you were taking care of Rabi?”
Annemarie flinched and turned to her. Seeing no judgment in Rita’s expression, she lowered her eyes. She fiddled with the glass and quietly answered.
“…I think so. Maybe it wasn’t Rabi who was dependent on me… maybe it was me.”
“…”
“When she looked for me, clung to me, cried for me… it made me feel like I mattered. Yes… maybe that’s why. After that happened, I’ve just been…”
Her slow words trailed off. She covered her mouth with her hand.
“…This isn’t something I should dump on you. I’m sorry.”
“Unni.”
Rita softly grabbed her when she tried to stand and escape.
‘Not something to say to me,’ being needed by someone, ‘after that happened’… I think I know.
Did unni start taking care of Rabi after she broke off her engagement with Leon-oppa?
Maybe that was her way of healing.
That meant the wound was deep enough to need that kind of healing… and if Rabi growing up has drained her this much, then that wound is still there.
…It means she still hasn’t let go.
Then maybe someone should give her a chance.
As Annemarie looked away, embarrassed for speaking too much, Rita spoke.
“A few days ago, Leon-oppa was seriously injured.”
“What?”
Annemarie turned sharply toward her.
“Where? How?”
Her voice trembled with urgency. Yes, she still cared. Rita continued calmly.
“His neck. If he had been found any later, it might have been fatal… Even with the priest’s healing, he still can’t speak properly.”
“He can’t speak?”
Annemarie’s eyes widened. Her chest rose sharply with her breath. Rita watched her reaction and went on.
“We were afraid he wouldn’t wake up. Thankfully he regained consciousness, but he’s on strict rest. Bedridden. He almost died, unni.”
“…”
“Unni, are you going to visit him?”
Annemarie’s gentle green eyes trembled violently. She set her glass down and covered her face with both hands.
“I… I don’t know…”
“Oppa said this.”
Rita’s voice was even.
“He said he caused you a terrible wound.”
“…!”
“I don’t know what happened between the two of you. But I can see it’s not over.”
Annemarie slowly lifted her face from her hands. Even with half her face hidden by the mask, she couldn’t hide how shaken she was.
Rita asked again.
“It’s not over for him or you, is it?”
Annemarie closed her eyes tight, opened them slowly, bit her lip, then let out a small sigh. And quietly whispered:
“…Lili.”
“Mm.”
“Have you ever… liked someone?”
“…”
No.
Until a short while ago, she would have answered that immediately. She had never felt anything like that—never even considered it.
But now… she couldn’t answer.
Her mind instantly tangled.
She remembered how she wished no one would come between them. She remembered wanting to see him in her darkest moment. She remembered how calm she felt beside him.
He went insane long ago but pretends to be fine. What drives me crazy is that he can pull it off.
Olly and Ethan’s words echoed.
The dizziness she felt hearing that.
Why it had shocked her so much. Why, in the middle of a mission, she had added a deeply personal goal of her own.
The music box melody.
The face lit by dawn.
The messy, sweet cream puff.
His whispered, I think I’m starting to like you, and the heat blooming in her ears.
…Was that what it meant?
Was that what liking someone felt like?
