Chapter 57
“What? She wasn’t like that when I was alone.”
At Camille’s party, when Angela had handed her an invitation to this one, she had clearly looked down on her.
Camille had too.
Rinia, feeling awkward, gave a small smile, which Laszlo noticed as he glanced over, promptly declining Angela’s suggestion.
“No need to go to such trouble. We’ll go and greet them ourselves.”
With a slight nod, he bid them goodbye and disappeared into the depths of the party with Rinia.
Watching them leave, Camille clenched her fists in frustration.
“That, that rude…!”
But Angela watched Laszlo’s retreating figure with a curious smile.
“Such pride, just like his looks. I like it.”
She didn’t mind being dismissed. Conquering a man with pride was far more fun than winning over an easy one.
* * *
“Ahaha! Hahahahaha!”
“Sigh…”
Every time Dimarcus burst out laughing, a sigh escaped Laszlo.
As expected, the moment Dimarcus saw the newly transformed Laszlo, he couldn’t hold back his laughter. Even though he tried to rein it in, it would erupt each time he glanced at Laszlo.
But no one could blame him. Everyone was just as stunned.
“So, that’s Laszlo Chrissus…”
Everyone stared at Laszlo, their thoughts transparent in their gazes.
“I knew this would happen.”
Laszlo gritted his teeth, holding back his embarrassment. He knew the interest would soon die down, and he rarely talked to others anyway, so it would be fine.
But Dimarcus was the problem.
Dimarcus seemed to relish this, as if teasing him was his new source of fun, and he wouldn’t let this slide easily.
“I’d like to have lunch with Count Chrissus alone today.”
“Not a very romantic invitation. I’ll pass.”
“I wasn’t talking to you. I was talking to my servant.”
Dimarcus’s voice was full of playful mischief.
But when they were finally alone, Dimarcus’s expression shifted from teasing to one of genuine curiosity.
“I doubt you voluntarily decided to shave and tidy up… Was this your sister’s doing?”
“The instigator was Rinia Chrissus, and her maid assisted.”
“Her maid? …Must be the daughter of Count Canyon.”
Dimarcus quickly deduced the maid’s identity.
Moments like these made Laszlo wary of Dimarcus. Beneath his playful, smug expression lay countless layers of information and schemes.
Noticing Laszlo’s sharp gaze, Dimarcus only laughed playfully again.
“That woman is surprisingly useful. When it comes to these things, there’s probably no one better.”
As he tore into a roasted bird leg, he showed no hint of any ulterior motive.
“Eat something, too. Or don’t you like bird dishes?”
“Do you really think a mercenary would be picky about food?”
“You’d be surprised. More people are afraid of birds than you’d think, so they avoid bird dishes.”
Dimarcus wiped his mouth and fingers with a napkin, then said, “Whether you like it or not, you look quite good.”
“I didn’t do this for others’ enjoyment.”
“I’m well aware. And I know you understand what I mean.”
Laszlo clicked his tongue quietly.
Anyone else would have been punished for disrespecting the emperor, but Dimarcus just let it slide.
“Quite a commitment. Thank you.”
Laszlo’s transformation was practically a declaration that he was ready to stand as Dimarcus’s loyal follower.
To be a power player, Laszlo had to blend into aristocratic society, and a noble appearance was the first step.
“It was a nuisance.”
Dimarcus chuckled, nodding at the blunt remark.
Some might find it disrespectful that Laszlo found the emperor’s favor bothersome, but Dimarcus understood what Laszlo was sacrificing.
“For him, freedom is everything… So I should be grateful he’s willing to give it up.”
Dimarcus took a sip of his wine, watching Laszlo with a complicated gaze.
Initially, he’d bound Laszlo to him with ambitions of molding him into a hunting hound, but in a palace teeming with greed and intrigue, Laszlo’s unyielding indifference to power had become precious. Over time, Dimarcus found himself leaning on him more and more.
But now that Laszlo had decided to take on a central role among the emperor’s noble supporters, he would inevitably face countless temptations and trials, whether he wanted them or not.
“And the moment he falls to corruption, I’ll abandon him.”
The wine, normally exquisite, tasted unusually bitter today.
Unaware of Dimarcus’s thoughts, Laszlo tore into a leg of roasted bird, chewing thoughtfully as he mumbled.
“It’s nothing too profound. My sister—she has to get married someday.”
“Hm? What do you mean by that?”
“It’s hard to get any proposals when her brother, the head of the family, looks like a beggar.”
“Pfft! Hahaha! Your sister isn’t one to mess around, is she?”
Dimarcus’s hearty laugh lightened the atmosphere around the table once more.
“Actually, society is abuzz over your unexpected appearance at Count Bliss’s party last night. If I’ve heard about it, matchmakers must be in a frenzy.”
“Why does my appearance have anything to do with marriage proposals…?”
“Ah, I should clarify. The matchmakers aren’t busy because of your sister—they’re after you.”
Laszlo froze mid-bite.
“Your sister’s young; there’s still time for her. You, on the other hand, are prime marriage material and quite an appealing prospect.”
“I’m not interested.”
“How long will that last?”
Despite the light tone, Dimarcus’s question had a weight that Laszlo didn’t miss. He stared down at the soft meat of the bird.
To Laszlo, marriage meant deception, betrayal, hypocrisy, and obsession. Rinia wanted to marry, so he would help her as she wished. But he could not imagine spending the rest of his life with a stranger.
“Until Your Majesty orders me to.”
Laszlo resumed eating.
Dimarcus watched him for a moment, then commented, “As for me, I’m a believer in ‘fated love.’ Call me the last romantic in this world.”
Laszlo grimaced, but Dimarcus merely laughed and continued his meal.
“By the way, how was Count Bliss’s party?”
Hearing this, Laszlo unconsciously tightened his grip on his knife.
Last night, he had understood what Idel meant when she said Rinia had “stood alone against the entire social circle.” It was a different feeling from just hearing about it.
“Good thing I couldn’t bring a sword to the event—for their sake.”
He could barely endure the women throwing flirtatious glances at him due to his new appearance, but what bothered him more was Rinia’s bitter smile.
“That young lady Angela, the one who pretended to be friendly to me earlier? At the last party, she asked me, ‘Where in the Baltice district did you get that hair accessory?’”
She’d asked if it was from Baltice, where middle-class commoners lived, rather than Carrera, the wealthier area. Though she had complimented the accessory, the underlying jab at Rinia’s commoner origins hadn’t been lost on him.
But there were too many people who had insulted Rinia for him to go back and confront each one. It would be impossible to count them all.
Rinia had playfully covered her mouth with a fan and pointed out each person who had humiliated her, laughing as she shared each story. Laszlo was bewildered by her light-hearted reaction.
And that wasn’t all.
“Brother, do you know how to dance?”
“Why? Do I have to dance with you too?”
“Forget it, then. I just thought I’d ask since it might be my only chance to dance.”
Laszlo felt as if he’d been struck on the back of his head.
He’d attended numerous parties, but the idea that his sister had never had a chance to dance made him feel regretful.
“I’ve realized that I haven’t been the best brother.”
Dimarcus looked at Laszlo’s troubled expression and nodded slowly.
“It will change. Just by attending that party, you’ve already started to change.”
“I know. That’s why I went.”
Laszlo’s grip tightened on his knife, and with a crunch, the bird’s breastbone split cleanly in two. Anyone from last night’s party who saw the scene might feel a chill in their hearts.
