TRL 46

Chapter 46

The grand banquet hall was filled with a kaleidoscope of dresses and tailcoats. It looked like a blooming flower garden.

From afar, it appeared immaculate and beautiful, but if you dug into its core, you’d find it crawling with pests — just like a real flower bed.

Lindsey Dice, dressed in a black maid’s uniform, moved like a shadow through the crowd of blossoms, holding a tray full of wine glasses like a shield.

As the eyes and ears of her mistress, she observed the insects hiding beneath the petals.

“Ten years ago, Lascaille was quite something. But now? I’m not so sure.”

“The gem mine isn’t going anywhere, so the duchy must still be wealthy… but the years of absence have taken a toll. Honestly, Lascaille’s influence is nothing compared to Deweyreborg now…”

These were your average social butterflies.

“Wow, this banquet really makes it feel real. The Lascaille family is back! Finally, a focal point for the northern nobility!”

“To think the princess everyone believed dead has returned—her family must be overjoyed. It’s nothing short of a miracle.”

These were like beneficial bugs — ladybugs or honeybees.

“What a waste of a noble title. Losing a daughter and throwing away ten years over it… Anyway, if we use the princess as leverage, maybe we can negotiate some mining rights…”

“Honestly, how do we even know what the princess’s been doing all this time? Disappears at ten, amnesia for ten years? Sounds like a flimsy excuse. For all we know, she was sold into some slum and came back after living in filth… probably hiding the truth.”

Now those were pests that needed to be eradicated.

As part of her assignment for Amethyst, Lindsey grasped the atmosphere of the banquet hall, then proceeded to assess the key attending nobles.

‘The Marchioness of Winterfield and her sons. The marquis and young count couldn’t leave the border again this year, so they’ve skipped the social season.’

‘The Marquess and Marchioness of Nysa with their children. Count and Countess Darius and their children. Baron and Baroness Sage and their children…’

‘The Marquess of Blen and his wife. Their daughter didn’t come? I heard she’s a weirdo…’

Her eyes caught on a pink-haired girl aggressively devouring desserts.

‘Looks like Deweyreborg only sent the princess. The duke didn’t attend.’

Nearby, but keeping some distance, were a chestnut-haired young lady and her younger siblings, along with a gentle-looking middle-aged man.

‘The Earl of Everett and his three children. The countess didn’t come herself.’

Then there was a curly-haired young man surrounded by pests.

‘Joseph, Grand Duke of Adicle. High alert.’

Since it was a debutante ball, most of the guests were young nobles. Only families with ties — or ambitions to create ties — to Lascaille had come with their heads of household.

‘…The Crown Prince must be the latter.’

Unless he was trying to win over Lascaille, there was no way the Crown Prince would personally attend, even for a duke’s daughter’s debut.

‘The Crown Prince may have neutralized Adicle for now, but the succession rights remain. Deweyreborg, having stayed clear during the chaos, is still intact — he’ll need a way to keep them in check. That makes Lascaille the perfect option.’

It was a reasonable deduction for someone in charge of Lascaille’s intelligence operations. The idea that the Crown Prince came here just to meet a maid suspected to be Rita? That was a fantasy too absurd to entertain.

‘Alright, time to organize and report back to the lady.’

Lindsey swept past the Crown Prince, who was surrounded by nobles desperately vying for his attention.

Crown Prince Gideon casually entertained their chatter while his mind was elsewhere.

‘After the first dance, when the second song begins, I’ll “accidentally” spill wine on myself…’

He wasn’t concerned about winning over Lascaille. His entire focus was on the plan Ethan had handed him.

Even as the young Duke of Lascaille took the podium for a welcome speech and the Duke himself escorted Lady Lillietta into the hall, Gideon remained fixated.

“Oh my goodness…”

“Unbelievable…”

As Lady Lillietta — appearing in society for the first time — stunned the crowd with her dazzling beauty, even those poised to criticize her fell speechless. But Gideon had only one thought in mind: meeting the maid suspected to be Rita.

Then, in a moment of awe, the wine glass slipped from the hand of the Grand Duke of Adicle and shattered with a clang.

Turning toward the sound, Gideon finally glanced at the girl beside the Duke — and saw her face for the first time.

‘…She’s beautiful.’

With her stunning appearance, her identity as Lascaille’s youngest daughter, and the dramatic story of her return, she would no doubt be the star of this social season.

But the Grand Duke of Adicle’s reaction was… concerning.

The fool was practically drooling over the girl. If both Deweyreborg and Lascaille got roped into an engagement with Adicle, it would be a nightmare — he had to stop it somehow.

‘None of the Duke of Lascaille’s children are married yet. The second son is a paladin — not an option. We should shortlist candidates for the young Duke and the princess on our end.’

That was the extent of Gideon’s interest in the princess. After swiftly calculating which families could be paired with Lascaille, he lost interest completely.

He exchanged greetings with the Duke, offered ceremonial congratulations, bowed to the princess, and placed his hand on her back for the debutante’s first dance — all while thinking only of the maid in Ethan’s photo.

So, when the princess opened her mouth mid-waltz, Gideon’s immediate reaction was: Annoyance.

“Your Highness.”

“Yes?”

He answered flatly, and the princess said nothing more — even as they turned gracefully around the ballroom, surrounded by other dancers.

Something about her gaze felt piercing. The princess was staring up at him, unwavering.

He found even that tiresome. No matter how beautiful she was, it meant nothing to him. He was too used to noblewomen throwing themselves at him.

Over the past four years, almost every eligible noblewoman had tried dropping handkerchiefs or swooning dramatically in front of him — laughably obvious ploys.

He usually handled them with courteous ease.

‘But not tonight.’

Was her name Lilliana? No, Lillietta? It was probably Lillietta, but he wasn’t in the right headspace to care. He just decided to call her “the princess” for now.

“Do you have something to say to me, Princess?”

He asked politely, already predicting her answer. No doubt, another flirtation attempt.

The princess hesitated, and only after they spun once did she speak.

“What do you think of patchouli?”

Flirtation, as expected.

Gideon almost laughed.

Four years ago, just after returning from war, he’d smelled patchouli at a banquet and instinctively reached for his sword.

A big scandal — the Crown Prince nearly slashing someone at a banquet. The rumor that he was a madman took months to extinguish.

So every noble in the Empire knew: the Crown Prince hated patchouli.

Was she pretending not to know? Trying to be cute? Or just being annoying?

“I don’t particularly like it.”

“…Neither do I.”

A predictable answer. Clearly, she wanted to start a conversation around shared dislikes.

As the precious daughter of the Duke of Lascaille, he might’ve indulged her under normal circumstances. But tonight, Gideon was completely distracted — exhausted, too, having not slept in days.

“I see.”

And with that curt reply, he cut off the conversation.

Though she looked like she had more to say, he avoided eye contact and sealed his lips.

Soon, the song ended.

Gideon released her hand and stepped back, placing a hand to his chest and bowing. The princess, after a brief pause, returned the gesture, clutching her dress.

A second too late, but otherwise perfectly executed. She was every bit the lady of a prestigious house.

He only sensed something odd when she stood upright.

He realized she had been staring intently — specifically at his eyes, especially his right eye.

Now that he thought about it, even during the dance, she had been fixated there. It wasn’t just trying to meet his gaze — it felt like she was searching or checking for something.

His right eye, of all things. That detail irked him.

Gideon subtly touched the corner of his eye and asked,

“Is there something on my face?”

“…No.”

“Then why… never mind.”

He stopped himself. Over her shoulder, he noticed the orchestra preparing for the second piece.

The ball was truly beginning now. Couples were emerging across the floor to dance.

Gideon gave her a brief nod and turned away. As he moved through the crowd toward the servants carrying wine trays, he felt her gaze on the back of his head — annoyingly persistent — but he quickly dismissed it.

‘Spill wine on myself, leave the hall, and Ethan should be waiting outside.’

It was time to go meet the girl who might be Rita Pascal.