59.

“Of all times?”

Philip Morfolk whined, his tone like that of a petulant child. Petra’s eyes, already cold, grew even colder, but Philip didn’t notice.

“Unfortunately, I chose purple this time, my dear Philip.”

Petra mechanically added “my dear Philip” to her sentence, attempting to placate him.

However, the comfort seemed insufficient. Philip, looking increasingly agitated, finally grabbed her arm as she adjusted her hair in the mirror.

Petra’s delicate forehead immediately furrowed in the reflection.

“Well… what about Lady Chaser! Aren’t you close to her? You could ask her to swap colors.”

“Close to Lady Chaser?”

Petra raised her eyebrows sharply as she questioned him.

“You know that purple symbolizes McFoy…”

“Ha! Philip. Where exactly do you think I’m close to her? It’s not just Lady Chaser. Look properly at my relationship with those women! They see me as nothing more than an upper-class clown!”

“Why do you have to say it like that?”

As Petra’s voice grew increasingly agitated, Philip’s face contorted to match her anger. Since her threat, he had been in a constant state of confusion. The woman who used to whisper sweet and loving words was now threatening him and spewing bitter, harsh words every time she spoke.

Philip felt immediately wronged. It was she who threatened him, she who blew everything out of proportion. When you think about it, wasn’t he the victim?

‘After all, isn’t everything going as she wants? So why is she so angry with me?’

“In the first place, we can never be equal. I’m a commoner and those women have noble status!”

Petra, becoming angrier the more she thought about it, finally stood up from her chair abruptly.

Philip had no intention of placating Petra. He loved her, but he never intended to be tied down in marriage, and now she only seemed like someone who had ruined his life.

“If you think about it, you’re from a noble background too. You’re just being overly sensitive. Do you really think they see you that way?”

Though he found her incessant bickering exhausting, Philip didn’t want the argument to escalate further, so he tried to placate her with a disinterested tone.

“Ha! What choice do I have among those women? The moment I chose purple, they seemed delighted to have something interesting to watch. Those bored noblewomen wouldn’t miss this entertaining spectacle!”

Petra didn’t hide her cold sarcasm. Philip, having offered what he thought was comfort, threw her an incredulous look, as if she were truly mad.

In that gaze, Petra felt their relationship reaching its breaking point. She bit her well-maintained lips without realizing it.

‘Even a fool like him has lived his entire life as the heir of a reputable family. What was I expecting from him?’

Philip was just another self-centered nobleman, one she had met at one of the many lowly masquerades he frequented. He was foolish but embodied the selfish nobleman perfectly.

If Philip had even a bit of cunning, she wouldn’t have been able to use his fear to pressure him into breaking off his engagement with the head of McFoy.

If Philip had been capable of even a little more thought, he wouldn’t have succumbed to her threat of, “If I don’t leave this room with all my limbs intact within two hours, someone will run to the McFoy head and reveal the existence of an illegitimate child.”

Had he been a bit less of a coward, he wouldn’t have broken down in tears and panic, writing and sealing a letter in front of her, demanding the engagement be broken.

By the time the thought occurred to Philip that simply killing her would be easier, it was too late. He had already made an enemy of McFoy, and rumors in the capital spread quickly.

Philip didn’t consider his own responsibilities. He never thought of it as something he needed to be accountable for. To him, Petra seemed nothing more than a malicious spirit determined to drag him down.

‘What a despicable man. To look at the woman carrying his child with such eyes.’

Petra often felt a mix of disgust and fear from the way Philip sometimes looked at her, as if he were sizing her up like a predator. Yet she didn’t avoid his blatant stares.

‘But that foolish Philip won’t be able to do anything to me right now.’

Philip was cowardly and inept. The reason neither he nor his family could immediately harm Petra was simple: they feared that if anything happened to her, the “someone” she mentioned might reveal the existence of an illegitimate child.

If she suddenly disappeared, many people would be curious, even without that “someone.” Petra Landry was a central figure in the capital’s gossip columns and a well-known socialite. Her sudden disappearance would certainly attract attention.

Despite this, Petra’s hold was fragile.

She knew better than anyone that everything could end in an instant. With the temple currently ignoring Morfolk, she was aware that Philip constantly thought, ‘If only Petra were gone, if only you disappeared.’

‘It could all end in a moment. Perhaps the man standing in front of me, the father of my child, might impulsively strangle me to death.’

Suddenly, she remembered an exceedingly arrogant voice.

“Oh, I should have asked this first.”

Petra bit her lip and closed her eyes.

“Do you want to live?”

When she opened her eyes again after a small sigh, she began speaking in a soothing tone, as if calming a child.

“I can’t change the color. For this masquerade ball, I have to wear a purple dress. You should, yes, wear an amethyst brooch on your chest. That should be enough.”

She spoke in the soft, familiar tone Philip knew well.

A masquerade ball was one of the decadent pastimes enjoyed by the central nobles. It was popular among them because of the “masks.”

Although wearing a mask didn’t completely obscure one’s identity, the unspoken rule of the game was to pretend not to recognize anyone because of the mask.

This discretion made the masquerade balls the venue for all kinds of secret rendezvous in the capital. It was perfect for bored nobles to enjoy a night of flirtation or private meetings.

The appeal of the masquerade balls lay in the secret signals that only the intended partners could recognize, often by matching decorations and dress colors.

The most straightforward and blatant method was to match the color of one’s attire. To avoid any overlap, those who were familiar with each other would draw lots before the masquerade.

The “Lady Chaser group,” which Petra struggled to join, also drew lots before the masquerade. By some stroke of fate, she “happened” to draw purple, and the noblewomen in the group gleefully eyed her.

“Of course, given that you just demanded a break-off from McFoy, appearing in McFoy’s color at the masquerade will amuse them greatly.”

“They find it amusing, do they! Here I am, on the verge of a breakdown.”

Philip trembled, his frail body shaking with anger. Petra turned her head away, unable to stand the sight.

“The affairs of noblewomen are not as simple as you think. The color coordination is a way to establish hierarchy, and as a mere commoner, what can I do? They won’t exchange the lot with me, and if I wear a different color dress, I’ll be completely ostracized.”

“My love, wouldn’t it be better not to attend the masquerade this time? I have a bad feeling—”

“Is that even a question…?”

Petra sighed heavily at his repeated stupidity despite countless explanations.

“How many times have I told you, Philip? What do you think those gossiping people will say if we try to lay low? That’s exactly the kind of behavior that will get us caught.”

“But… damn, just thinking about it tires me out.”

“I have a performance that night. It’s not just about attending the ball. If I suddenly drop out of the show, people will definitely talk.”

Philip rubbed his face with his hands in frustration. Petra, having completely turned away from him, muttered in her usual sweet voice.

“We need to show that you and I are in love. That we have nothing to hide, that we’ve done nothing to break any oaths. Just be careful with your words. Avoid drinking too much.”

Despite the sweetness in her tone, her face was stern and unyielding.

“No matter how much you dislike it, we can’t change the color.”

She emphasized again, as if delivering a final verdict. Philip sighed, looking at her small shoulders, and left the room.

Petra closed her eyes tightly, her long lashes trembling.

* * *

“You’re taking a complicated route, uncharacteristically.”

“Tell me about it.”

Kano and Erika exchanged a rare moment of agreement, reflexively looking at each other. As soon as their eyes met, they both turned away with an expression of disgust. They didn’t like each other much.

Erika thought Kano was rude, while Kano resented Erika for not considering him as a suitable consort for McFoy.

“Why? There’s no better way to make a spectacle that will be talked about for thirty years in the Imperial social scene.”

“Still, there’s no need for the head to go personally.”

Erika frowned, showing her disapproval.

“Erika is right for once. It’s not worth your time. Let me—”

“Considering you didn’t even manage to find out that Lady Kruger was a midwife, you have no room to talk. Come to think of it, I did all the work this time, didn’t I? At this rate, you two should have your pay docked.”

At the mention of Sonnet, Erika and Kano both closed their mouths and looked like they had just swallowed something foul.

I ignored their reactions and examined the boxes Ectra had sent earlier. I picked up a piece of delicate, semi-transparent fabric and chuckled. It was an elbow-length glove.

“I don’t understand central nobles. Or any nobles, really. Don’t they have anything better to do?”

“I picked the most conservative outfit with the least exposure. If you go dressed as usual, you’ll draw too much attention.”

Erika shrugged as she explained, while Kano, who had been seething nearby, finally snapped.

“So you’re seriously going to wear those flimsy rags and go to that place? This is insane.”

He scratched his head furiously, making a scene.

He’s one to talk… A man who walks around bare-chested even in the dead of winter, making a fuss over semi-transparent gloves.

I stared coldly at Kano before speaking.