Chapter 18

“Pardon?”

“What did you just say?”

Euphrasia doubted her own ears.  

What on earth did I just hear…?  

Eric was equally bewildered.  

They exchanged confused expressions, questioning each other back and forth. Then, the moment they finally understood the meaning behind each other’s words, neither of them hesitated to release the other’s hand.  

The atmosphere froze awkwardly, but now for a completely different reason.  

It was such a stark contrast to their earlier heated exchange, where neither had been willing to back down.  

Eric, rarely flustered, stared blankly into the empty space ahead, while Euphrasia, her head bowed low, fanned herself repeatedly.  

Her ears were already flushed red.  

At that moment, the final song of the ball came to an end.  

Without a word, both Eric and Euphrasia instinctively created as much distance as possible between themselves.  

As they left the dance floor, Eric, trying hard to mask his embarrassment, muttered irritably. A delayed sense of injustice surged within him.  

“Let’s be clear. You were the one who met another man first. I have nothing to hide. What exactly did I do wrong?”  

“Do you actually believe I had a secret rendezvous? It was a chance meeting, not a tryst. I even declined his offer to escort me.”  

Her voice trembled with rising anger as she defended herself.  

“And do you think spying on me from the shadows is something to be proud of? Shame on you. Misunderstanding the situation as you pleased and then using it as an excuse to pursue someone else—how noble of you!”  

“T-That’s…”  

Eric stammered, unable to meet Euphrasia’s sharp gaze.  

Only now did the shame of his actions begin to sink in—hiding behind a tree to sneak a lecherous look at her, breaking his own vow to never so much as glance at another woman…  

Eric could only close his mouth awkwardly.  

Euphrasia felt wronged. Everything had spiraled into chaos because of Eric’s baseless assumptions.  

Her anger flared even more at the absurdity of it all.  

“I don’t want anything to do with you anymore, Your Grace. I’m truly disappointed.”  

As soon as they left the dance floor, Euphrasia stormed off without looking back.  

Eric, unable to bring himself to stop her, could only watch her retreating figure in a daze, letting out a small sigh.  

***

“Kya-ha.”  

A faint voice trickled out from the corner of the banquet hall.  

It was an exclamation more suited to street thugs than nobles.  

The individuals gathered in the corner were dressed in attire so revealing that more of their bodies were exposed than covered, their outfits exuding an air of unrestrained freedom.  

The delegation from the Kingdom of Kettlin, stationed in the corner of the banquet hall, appeared united as one group, flaunting their presence.  

However, upon closer inspection, they were subtly divided into two distinct factions.  

The crude exclamation had come from none other than Leopold, seated squarely at the center of the left faction.  

“So, even Sylph’s curse has reached this faraway empire.”

Leopold smirked lightly, adding a sigh.  

‘Sylph’s curse’ was a colloquial expression commonly used in the Kingdom of Kettlin.  

It referred to a situation turned chaotic, as if the supreme wind spirit Sylph had swept through and left everything in disarray.  

Despite his playful tone, Leopold’s gaze, fixed on Euphrasia and Eric, was razor-sharp.  

‘So the man she’s promised to is him? Duke Herrington, huh…’  

The reason for her rejection, which had remained a mystery in the dimly lit garden, made perfect sense if Duke Herrington was involved.  

‘A lover’s quarrel, perhaps? They were ready to tear each other apart earlier, as if fire spirits would burst from their eyes. And now, what’s with this awkward tension?’ 

As the Kingdom of Kettlin’s official heartthrob, renowned for making countless young ladies swoon, Leopold found the emotional mess between Euphrasia and Duke Herrington almost exasperating to watch.  

Still, thanks to this, Leopold could now add one more task to his to-do list.  

“Sylph’s curse? This banquet doesn’t seem that disastrous to me. Does it not meet your standards, Prince—no, Sir Leopold?”  

“The banquet is flawless. It’s just… never mind. You wouldn’t understand, Countess.”  

“To be honest, I’m impressed. I knew the Lockvela Empire was the most powerful nation on the continent, but seeing it in person… wow. The splendor of the imperial palace is unmatched, and the people here… they shine, don’t they? Compared to us, weathered by the sea breeze, they’re on a whole different level. Hmm, the men are a bit too buttoned-up for my taste, but there’s a certain restrained allure to their austerity…”  

“Clara, do you have no intention of maintaining your dignity as a noblewoman of the kingdom? Albert has been glaring at the you since earlier. You know he hates noise.”  

“Hah? That ugly, boorish boar dares to glare at me?”  

One of the delegation members, Countess Monte, overheard Leopold’s muttering and approached with a sharp retort.  

Clara, the heir apparent of the loyal Monte family and Leopold’s trusted confidante, had two notable flaws: an excessive fondness for handsome men and an unrestrained tongue.  

Leopold deftly redirected her attention, and as expected, Clara began fuming, ready to charge at the unattractive leader of the opposing faction.  

‘Perhaps I can shake things up a bit.’  

Glancing at the distracted Countess Monte, Leopold cautiously stepped away.  

Aside from her, there was no one else in the left group of the delegation who could stop or control him.

Even though he lacked a strong maternal lineage and had fallen out of favor with the king, he was still a legitimate contender for the throne.  

“Keep an eye on Clara. If she starts a fight, it’ll disgrace the kingdom.”  

“As you command.”  

“Oh, and…”  

Leopold paused mid-step and turned back.  

“Don’t take your eyes off Sir Albert either. If he shows even the slightest suspicious behavior, report it immediately.”

Leopold’s gaze shifted to the center of the right faction, where a fat, unattractive man feigned indifference, digging into his ear as if he hadn’t heard Clara’s outburst.  

Sir Albert was a knight sworn to Princess Isabella, Leopold’s half-sister.  

He had also been one of the individuals, along with Leopold, who had persistently kept an eye on Euphrasia—from the moment she entered the banquet hall to when she argued with her stepmother.  

While it could be dismissed as simple curiosity about an unusual piece of gossip, Leopold’s instincts warned him that there was more to it.  

His own interest in Euphrasia, combined with Albert’s inexplicable fixation, was one of the reasons he had decided to follow her earlier.  

“Could it be… that Princess Isabella issued secret orders? If our assumptions are correct and they’re pursuing the same goal as us…”  

One of the left faction members, bowing before Leopold, glanced nervously at the right faction as he spoke.  

Leopold shook his head.  

“Nothing is certain yet. But it’s always better to be cautious.”  

“Understood, Your Highness.”  

“…And refrain from using that title. Remember, I’m here under the guise of an ordinary knight.”

“Ah, I didn’t mean to… My apologies.”  

How far had he come to get here?  

He couldn’t let himself be tripped up by one of Isabella’s lackeys, of all people.  

Leopold planned to reveal only the bare minimum of information, even to his most trusted aides, as caution was paramount.  

Fortunately, they obeyed his orders without further questioning or protest.  

“I’ll be back shortly. It won’t take long.”  

With that, Leopold quickened his pace.  

His destination was the terrace of the banquet hall, where Duke Herrington was located.  

The terraces, generously arranged throughout the banquet hall, were nearly full.  

Couples who had connected during the ball had crowded the spaces, enjoying their private moments.  

‘There he is.’  

Among them, one man stood out, almost the only one standing alone on the terrace.  

Without hesitation, Leopold approached and flung the terrace door open.  

“Euphrasia? The air is chilly, so don’t come out. I’ll be back inside soon, so don’t worry…”  

Sensing someone’s presence behind him, Eric instinctively called out Euphrasia’s name, only for his expression to stiffen.  

He had assumed it was Euphrasia who had come looking for him.  

For a fleeting moment, he had even adjusted his expression to appear composed, though he was nervous and awkward inside.  

But when he turned around to face the intruder, his disappointment was immediate, and the anger he had momentarily forgotten surged back.  

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. I am Leopold Bright, visiting the Empire as a representative of the Kingdom of Kettlin. It’s an honor to meet the renowned Duke Herrington in person.”  

“Is that so?”  

A pleasure to meet me?  

Eric had already seen this man—or more precisely, this man groveling pathetically before Euphrasia.  

And now, this so-called admirer dared to say it was an honor to meet him after attempting to steal his partner?  

Eric swallowed the words that had risen to his tongue.  

Although it was true that this man had shamelessly flirted with Euphrasia, Eric’s rational side recognized that it was unlikely Leopold had known she was his partner.  

However, his emotions twisted into a knot of resentment regardless.  

“What do you want?”  

In the end, Eric’s response was laced with disdain.  

It wasn’t the tone he would normally use with a foreign dignitary, but at this point, he didn’t care how childish he appeared.  

Despite Eric’s cold reception, Leopold maintained his polite smile.  

“I was simply delighted to see you, the esteemed Duke, and wanted to greet you. After all, you are the hero of the recent victory.”  

“…If you’re done, I’ll be going. I was just about to leave anyway.”  

Eric didn’t trust himself to remain civil if he continued looking at Leopold’s smug face.  

He decided to leave while he still had some semblance of self-control.  

Besides, he was starting to worry about Euphrasia, who had gone to the tearoom alone.  

The Elixir of Truth was merely the surface-level reason for attending the ball together.  

His true purpose was to quell the Mad Princess’s interest in Euphrasia and recreate the night they had spent together.  

Now that it seemed the first goal had failed, he needed to focus on achieving the second. To do so, he had to find her first.  

Just as Eric passed Leopold and opened the terrace door, a grating voice stopped him in his tracks.  

“Duke Herrington, may I ask what kind of relationship you have with your partner?”  

The irritating man’s equally irritating question pierced his ears.