“Artron Oil owned by Duke Dietrich. The one that earns astronomical amounts of money in Belfast. I heard Chloe Dietrich owns a significant portion of that company’s bonds.”

“Ah, so that’s how the duchess came to hold massive investment returns.”

“But it’s a situation that’s hard to understand. Looking at it sensibly, there seems to be no reason for the duke to transfer the bonds of a company whose value has skyrocketed to his wife. Don’t you think?”

“It’s not common, but doesn’t it mean the duke ardently loves his wife? After all, in a relationship where nothing is too precious, nothing is impossible.”

“Anyway, it’s certain that at this very moment, wealth continues to accumulate in Chloe Dietrich’s name.”

One of the noble ladies with quick access to information didn’t hide her envy.

Countess Sharlo could only silently maintain her position without adding more words. Perhaps she didn’t welcome facing someone else’s reality that might have all belonged to her daughter.

It was the same now.

People endlessly flocked to greet the Duke and Duchess of Dietrich, who had entered like the protagonists of the grand banquet. Of course, at the end of that procession was her husband, Count Sharlo.

As long as he did business in Artion, he couldn’t disregard House Dietrich.

Andert, with a mineral development company as his holding company, expanded his influence as if he would swallow Artion whole. The items from which he already earned massive investment returns were at a level difficult to enumerate one by one.

On top of that, Duke Dietrich also had Artron Oil as a subsidiary.

“Ha ha, is that all? I’m talking about the personal passenger car that’s supposed to be fully commercialized the year after next. The name of the car company that’s scheduled to be released first is ‘Dietrich.’ In other words, he’s been making aggressive investments under that name, so he’s several steps ahead of others, isn’t he? I hear the additional construction of factories producing various engines is already in the final stages.”

It was a lament her husband had shared late at night, starting with a long sigh.

“In short, he has an innate foresight for making money. Illegitimate child? In reality, what does that label matter so much? Even Fabiana Dietrich’s eventual death sentence will be forgotten with time. He’s a man who reigns like a king atop the gold tower he’s built. No matter how wounded one’s pride might be, it’s not right to be at odds with such a person.”

Count Sharlo, based in the financial industry, was more sensitive than anyone to the flow of money. Knowing this reality, she didn’t stop her husband’s steps.

But perhaps due to her last remaining pride, she didn’t want to join that path herself unless it was a situation where she absolutely had to face them. Countess Sharlo turned her head away as if avoiding the sight of her husband approaching the ducal couple.

At that moment, a deep bass resonance spread throughout the hall.

“His Majesty the King is entering.”

At the voice announcing the arrival of Johannes, the master of Denev Palace, even the orchestra’s performance subsided at once.

Since the host of the party had appeared, it was time for the atmosphere that had been focused on the Duke and Duchess of Dietrich to change. This was also what Andert, who had diligently fulfilled his role, hoped for.

But contrary to that hope, the first name to emerge from the king’s mouth as he tried to greet the guests was his.

“Duke Dietrich, seeing such an affectionate ducal couple in person makes me even more delighted.”

Johannes, who had drawn attention in the center of the hall, expressed familiarity to Andert.

It was clearly an attitude aimed at solidifying his position, conscious of those gathered here. In response to the greeting that ostentatiously displayed their friendship, Andert also paid his respects with skillful simplicity.

“I heard you went to Larcel for your honeymoon, Duchess Dietrich. Though your graduation was also delayed, congratulations.”

“Thank you. I will deeply cherish Your Majesty’s thoughtfulness.”

Chloe bowed her head and gave an appropriate response.

This was only her second time seeing Johannes directly since their first meeting in the audience chamber. Whether out of mutual need or not, the king and Andert were definitely on friendly terms. But Chloe had no desire to converse familiarly with the man sitting on the throne.

Johannes turned away after a casual greeting, just as the gazes pouring in from all directions intensified.

“I pray for a brilliant future to unfold before the Duke and Duchess Dietrich.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.”

After leaving a ceremonial blessing, the king chose Count Declen, who led the parliament, as his next target. Chloe responded with a faint smile to the eye greeting from Countess Declen standing beside him.

“Shall we step out for a moment?”

It was Andert who seized the gap when people’s attention was momentarily diverted.

He gently led Chloe to the balcony, which was separated from the banquet hall by a thick curtain. The pointed toe of her shoe stepped into a space where the heat and laughter emitted by those gathered in the hall were blocked.

“Sit and rest, Chloe.”

Andert, who pulled out a chair for her, asked with concerned eyes.

“Is your foot alright?”

“Yes. I rarely have any discomfort now, so don’t worry.”

“If anything feels even slightly wrong, tell me right away, don’t endure it.”

“I will.”

Chloe gently stroked the back of his hand as he repeatedly spoke. Then she smiled brightly, indicating that he really didn’t need to worry.

His concern was appreciated, but she didn’t want to cause unnecessary worry. As Chloe tried to change the subject, she suddenly remembered what she had wanted to say.

“Andert, are you busy this weekend?”

Though she asked to confirm, she already anticipated the answer that would come back.

“No, I try to keep Sunday’s schedule as clear as possible.”

Like a calm denial, he never scheduled anything on Sundays. Chloe knew this was so he could be with her.

Andert pulled her hand that was tickling the back of his hand and asked with anticipation.

“Why?”

“There’s a performance I want to see. It starts at 8 PM, so we can go to the grand theater after dinner. Oh, and before that, I need to stop by a general store in town to buy something.”

“Sure, anything.”

He followed her ambitious plan without asking further questions. Since it was rare for Chloe to suggest a date first, there was no need to question it.

Sunday evening dinner and an 8 PM performance.

Andert, who had boldly underlined the newly created schedule, estimated when they could leave the palace. Yet he didn’t release his fingers that were firmly intertwined with her slender hand wrapped in lace gloves.

Though it was approaching midnight, the party seemed likely to continue for some time. Since Johannes had just appeared, they might only be able to leave at dawn.

He sat next to Chloe, gazing at the fountain visible at a glance. The water falling in a parabolic arc added to the ambiance of the deepening summer night. Naturally, he preferred this moment when he could focus on one person rather than the crowded interior.

Shortly after, a lively, fast-tempo melody blended into the refreshing sound of falling water. Unlike the earlier gentle rhythm that had struggled to pierce the thick curtain, this was an upbeat dance tune.

It was the signal announcing the start of the formal ball. At another time, it would have been a sequence he wouldn’t have considered. He had never been interested in a ball where he danced with someone.

But not today. Andert, who had been thinking about something for a moment, tilted his head sideways.

“Chloe, shall we go out too?”

Chloe was surprised by the unexpected suggestion.

The invitation to “go out” didn’t seem to simply mean returning to the banquet hall. After all, the exciting beat of the waltz was clearly reaching her ears too.

“Now?”

“Yes. Chloe, would you share the next dance with me?”

Andert, who bowed and extended his hand, was both gentlemanly and respectful.

Chloe hesitated, not having expected to dance today, especially at Denev Palace. Though the constantly following gazes were burdensome, what concerned her more was her rusty skills.

Of course, she had learned all the basic steps and movements since childhood. But having not danced for several years, there was no need to check her skill level.

Meanwhile, the first song was passing its cl*max. Chloe decided to be honest before it was too late.

“Actually, I’m not confident, Andert. I think my steps will be a mess from the start.”

Especially in such a setting, inadequacies would stand out even more among those accustomed to such occasions. So Chloe, who gently expressed her intention to decline, tried to take a step back.

But Andert still hadn’t withdrawn his hand.

“Andert?”

When she asked with puzzlement, he nodded as if there was no problem.

“That doesn’t matter, Chloe. As long as you don’t hate dancing with me.”

“No. That’s not it. As I said, I just lack confidence.”