97. A Strange Man with a Pleasant Scent

“Raphelios seems quite open-minded, doesn’t it?”

The man’s lazy, feline tone carried not a hint of embarrassment, leaving Roselia momentarily flustered instead.

“Th-that’s not it! I just wanted to ask… are you the owner of that painting over there?”

The silver-haired man followed her gesture, glancing toward the painting with a curious expression.

“Painting?”

At that moment, an all-too-familiar carriage came to a stop nearby.

It bore the emblem of the Valtazar Duchy.

As expected, Klaus stepped out of the carriage, his imposing presence immediately catching Roselia’s attention. Her heart began to race.

Instinctively, she grabbed the collar of the man before her and pulled him closer.

The unexpected tug made the man widen his eyes in surprise, but he remained still, simply observing her.

Using him as a shield, Roselia curled into his chest, hoping to remain unnoticed. The man, his expression contemplative, muttered under his breath,

“Hmm… not really into men, though…”

Unaware, Roselia’s scent began to escape, having let her guard down in her panic over Klaus.

The man’s sharp, ruby-red eyes gleamed with intrigue as he smirked seductively.

“You smell nice.”

His languid, curious gaze made Roselia freeze in place before she recoiled in shock.

A quick glance behind her revealed that Klaus, thankfully, hadn’t noticed her and seemed to have walked toward the harbor amidst the bustling crowd.

Only then did Roselia realize what she had just done—hiding in the arms of a foreign stranger to avoid Klaus. Blushing furiously, she lowered her head.

“I… I’m so sorry.”

The man, unfazed, raised a brow and smiled lazily.

“No need to apologize. So, what was it you needed again?”

Remembering her original purpose, Roselia quickly pointed toward the painting she’d been eyeing.

“That painting.”

The silver-haired man glanced in the direction she indicated and tilted his head, clearly puzzled.

Following his gaze, Roselia saw another man in Benyub attire carrying the painting away.

Realizing her mistake, she looked at the silver-haired man with an awkward smile.

“Wait… you’re not the owner of that painting?”

The man chuckled, his grin widening.

“Doesn’t seem like it.”

Roselia found herself momentarily mesmerized by his crimson eyes before snapping out of it and shaking her head vigorously.

“Oh no… I’m so sorry!”

Bowing quickly, she spun around and dashed after the man carrying the painting.

The silver-haired man watched her retreating figure with quiet amusement.

“It doesn’t seem like perfume…”

He murmured to himself, stroking his chin thoughtfully, a contemplative expression settling over his face.

* * *

As Roselia climbed into the carriage, Eva greeted her with an exaggerated expression of exasperation.

“My lady! Do you know how worried I was when you disappeared like that? If the marquis finds out, I’ll be demoted from personal maid immediately!”

Roselia, unfazed, deftly changed the subject.

“Did you enjoy looking at the jewelry?”

“Oh, yes! Would you like to see what I got? Isn’t this hairpin lovely? I even bought one for you!”

Eva’s face brightened instantly, her earlier complaint forgotten. Roselia couldn’t help but chuckle at Eva’s pure and cheerful demeanor.

Realizing she had been teased, Eva puffed out her cheeks indignantly.

“That’s not fair! But really, why were you so interested in that painting earlier?”

The painting Roselia had tried to buy was a famous piece from Benyub, destined to be transported to Rugbeljet through Raphelios.

In the end, she couldn’t purchase it, as it was marked for the imperial collection.

“Collecting paintings is my hobby,” Roselia replied simply.

“Of all things… not jewelry or cosmetics, but paintings?” Eva said, shaking her head in disbelief before sighing.

Then, as if realizing the broader implications of Roselia’s situation, she added with a wistful tone, “I really hope Prince Aaron’s ascension as Crown Prince happens soon. Then you can live openly as yourself, my lady.”

“It won’t be long now,” Roselia reassured her.

With just a month until the ceremony, the entire empire was abuzz with preparations. Delegates from various nations were arriving for the event, which meant Felton Harbor and the capital, Charlemagne, were becoming increasingly chaotic.

Lost in thought about the upcoming ceremony, Roselia barely noticed as Eva suddenly clapped her hands together in realization.

“Oh, that’s right! Do you know there’s an imperial banquet in three days?”

“The marquis told me,” Roselia replied.

It wasn’t a formal debut in high society but rather a chance, under the marquis’s guidance, to observe Raphelios’s nobility while maintaining her guise as a guest.

“It’s such a shame! With your beauty, you’d be the star of the Raphelios social scene, but you have to attend in disguise as a man,” Eva lamented.

Roselia, recalling the few times she had attended balls in Rugbeljet while dressed as a woman, gave a strained smile.

“I’m not interested in social gatherings.”

All she wanted was for the imperial banquet to end without incident.

As per Johannes’s advice, this was a rare opportunity to assess the concubine faction nobles who had yet to see her face. It was the perfect time to observe without drawing suspicion.

Lost in her serious thoughts, Roselia gazed out the carriage window with a contemplative expression.

* * *

The date of the imperial banquet arrived swiftly.

Roselia, clad in an elegant tailcoat prepared by the marquisate’s exclusive tailor, entered the grand ballroom with Johannes.

Unlike the regal and formal atmosphere of Rugbeljet’s imperial banquets, Raphelios’s banquet felt more like a grand party.

The room was filled with people of various races and cultures, their vibrant and unique attire casting aside any rigid conventions.

At the head of the hall sat two familiar figures: the empress, whom Roselia had met briefly before, and the emperor, whom she was seeing for the first time.

As Johannes’s sharp eyes swept across the room, he leaned slightly toward Roselia and spoke quietly.

“Take a good look at the nobles affiliated with the concubine faction. Knowing your enemies is the first step to protecting yourself. They don’t know your face yet, so there shouldn’t be any immediate trouble.”

Roselia nodded solemnly without looking at Johannes, her expression serious.

Johannes subtly gestured with his chin toward a cluster of nobles.

“See the woman surrounded by the other noblewomen? That’s Lady Gwenhilla, the first concubine. She hails from the Kingdom of Delforges and is the most influential among the concubines.”

Roselia immediately spotted the woman he described. Lady Gwenhilla sat like a queen among her followers, her haughty and sharp demeanor unmistakable.

It was no wonder she commanded such respect—she was the mother of a grown prince, Alphonse, who was sixteen years older than the young Prince Aaron.

Alphonse had been the first in line to the throne until Aaron’s birth, which explained the concubine faction’s significant influence.

“The two men standing behind her are her closest allies: Marquess Valken and Count Conrad.”

Roselia’s gaze moved steadily, taking in the figures Johannes mentioned.

“The red-haired woman sitting beside Gwenhilla is Lady Sabina, the second concubine, and a princess from the Kingdom of Benyub. She’s known to be harsh toward the weak but submissive to the strong. Beside her is her daughter, Princess Tania.”

The striking red-haired woman and the younger girl with similar features caught Roselia’s attention. Tania, with her relatively fairer skin and youthful appearance, seemed to be a few years younger than Roselia.

Unlike Rugbeljet, where noble bloodlines were paramount, Raphelios’s diverse connections through intermarriages with other nations brought a different dynamic to its court.

As Roselia took it all in, she sipped her champagne casually and asked, “What about the third concubine?”

“Lady Sesenia is a princess from the Kingdom of Mule. She rarely attends banquets or public events and avoids getting involved in the political conflicts between the empress and the concubines. She’s known to be infertile, so there are no heirs from her lineage.”

“Then I’ll focus on observing Gwenhilla and her faction,” Roselia said calmly.

Johannes smiled approvingly. “You catch on quickly. Be cautious, though. While the concubines oppose the empress, their unity is temporary and fragile. They’re not fully aligned with each other.”

“I understand.”

As Roselia’s gaze shifted, she noticed a group of young noblemen gathered around an arrogant-looking man.

“Is that Prince Alphonse?”

Johannes followed her gaze and nodded, his expression stiffening. “That’s correct. You recognized him immediately.”

It wasn’t hard to tell. Surrounded by adoring noblemen, Alphonse exuded entitlement and superiority.

In stark contrast, young Prince Aaron sat alone, isolated and overshadowed by his older half-brother.

Roselia’s heart sank as she watched Aaron, who seemed to be trying hard to maintain a composed demeanor.

‘No wonder he acts like an adult,’ she thought bitterly.

It was easy to imagine the constant comparisons and criticisms he must have endured, being judged against a 25-year-old adult while he was barely past ten.

If only Aaron could have grown up like a normal child, carefree and loved, like Abello’s daughter Erlin…

Roselia’s gaze lingered on Aaron, her chest heavy with sympathy.

Then, she noticed someone approaching him—a man in Benyub attire, his silver hair and broad chest exposed by his traditional garb.

As the man bowed politely to Aaron, Roselia’s eyes widened in recognition.

“That man…,” she began, her voice trailing off.

Johannes turned toward Aaron and immediately identified the figure.

“That’s the seventh prince of Benyub, Asif Rahart Kal Benyub. He’s also Lady Sabina’s younger brother. It seems he arrived early with the Benyub delegation for the Crown Prince’s ascension ceremony.”

Roselia’s eyes widened further in surprise.

She had assumed the silver-haired man was a wealthy merchant or nobleman from Benyub, not royalty.

‘No wonder he carried himself with such natural authority,’ she thought.

Just then, the lively atmosphere of the banquet hall quieted as all eyes turned toward the entrance.

A man stepped into the room, commanding attention with his mere presence.

It was Klaus, the Duke of Valtazar, the sole duke of Rugbeljet and one of the continent’s wealthiest figures.

“It seems the Duke of Valtazar was also invited to the imperial banquet,” Johannes remarked.

 

⋆｡ ﾟ ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ ☾ ﾟ ｡ ⋆

☕ Hi, friends! Your support means the world to me. If you’d like, you can buy me a coffee here: Click the link on the image! 💖

Thank you for keeping me inspired! 🌸

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆