Where the lemon blossom had once been, deep green foliage now spread. Before they knew it, the Holy Festival had arrived, bringing life to Faradel Castle.

People hung yellow star-shaped ornaments at their doors to proclaim the blessings and grace of God. The poor picked yellow stones from the road and scratched crude stars into the wood of their shabby gates. House by house, golden stars shone brightly.

When the doors of the restored temple opened, people washed their hands and feet in the canal that circled the sanctuary. Inside, porridge made from oats and loaves of bread were distributed to the poor.

“Well? Do you still regret holding the festival?”

Giselle asked as she watched people dance around the fountain. Smiles had blossomed on the faces of those wearied by their harsh lives.

Shed gave no reply. Giselle took his silence as consent. If he had not approved, he would have already argued and found fault with it. Perhaps his thoughts were still consumed with tomorrow’s heretic hunt.

“Let’s go in first.”

Turning away from the panoramic view of Faradel, Shed finally moved.

Once the main ceremony had ended, he allowed himself to relax, releasing the tension that had held him so tightly. Last night, he had feared the onset of his heat. Time and again, he had fumbled with his jacket as if to confirm the presence of the medicine inside.

Thankfully, it had not come. Even when women brushed past him and Giselle — dressed more beautifully than usual — let her perfume linger close enough to tempt him, his desire remained still. The new medicine that Eclace had provided for him was certainly working.

“At the banquet tonight, you’d better wipe that severe look off your face.”

Giselle spoke to his retreating back.

That evening, Faradel hosted a banquet for the priests, retainers, and knights who had worked hard and endured hardships together to restore the city. Although it would not be overly extravagant — after all, the hunt was approaching — it was intended to boost morale ahead of the challenges to come.

“…I’ll see you later.”

Casting Giselle a fleeting glance, Shed headed straight for the manor.

🌺⟡───⟡🌺 🌺⟡───⟡🌺

“Guests have already begun arriving—can’t you move a little faster?”

A sharp voice urged Liana on.

The Holy Festival. On the eve of Faradel’s first grand banquet, the retainers of House Lester bustled about in frenzy.

Liana most of all.

“After spending all day lying around under the pretext of being unwell, you must be eager to relax now. You’re always looking for a chance to slack off.”

“Yes, don’t nag too much. What if she goes to the master again and tells tales?”

Janet laughed as she feigned a warning to the other maids.

“But these days, it doesn’t seem as though the master cares much anyway.”

Liana crouched by the well, washing fruit, as the sound of their laughter reached her ears. They were probably hoping that her words would make her burst into tears.

Unfortunately for them, Liana had no energy to spare on such things. She was too busy. Janet and the others had been piling work onto her. That was why they had the time to sit around and gossip.

Liana considered firing back at them with a sharp remark, but decided against it. They wouldn’t listen anyway, and she didn’t want to waste her energy arguing with them. She had far more important things to focus on, and their meaningless chatter held little power over her.

Perhaps it was her steadfast silence in the face of their deliberate provocation that irritated them further. Their whispers grew sharper and more resentful.

“Look at her, pretending she doesn’t hear us when she obviously does.”

“Acting all high and mighty.”

Ignoring the murmurs behind her, Liana filled a basket with the fruit she had finished washing. Just then—

“You lot! Instead of standing around chattering, hurry up and carry those plates! The guests are nearly all here, and the hall is short on dishes!”

Butler Werner’s sharp rebuke cut across the gossiping maids, his voice louder than usual with irritation at their idleness in the midst of such busyness.

“Liana, you too. Bring the fruit right away. What face will we have if the banquet tables are bare when the guests have already arrived?”

Though the scolding had spread to her as well, Werner’s tone softened when it reached her.

“Yes, Butler.”

Liana lifted the basket of fruit and headed for the banquet hall.

Just as he said, guests were already gathering. Faradel was only half a city—no, a quarter—but even so, the noble company was not small. Retainers in Shed’s service, titled knights, priests, and representatives of the Vitel Merchant Guild who had supported the restoration—all had come.

In total, the guests numbered in the dozens.

‘The banquet hall… it finally looks the part.’

The chandeliers on the ceiling shone, finally free of dust and cobwebs. The marble floor gleamed, repaired and free of cracks. Thanks to Eclace, fine carpets had been imported from afar. Long wooden tables and leather-padded chairs filled the space.

While it was still humble compared to the halls of the Emperor or the prince-electors, at least it was no longer shameful to host a banquet here.

Perhaps it was strange, but Liana found herself welcoming the thought that this once gloomy, ghost-haunted mansion was alive again.

Weaving carefully through the early arrivals, she placed the fruit on the tables. Where vases had stood before, the colorful fruit added vibrancy, filling the empty space.

She went back and forth, carrying trays of food from the kitchen to the hall, until the tables were almost finished.

Then—

“His Grace Duke Shed Lester and Her Eminence High Priestess Giselle Marlhein are entering.”

At the herald’s announcement, the great doors at the far end of the hall swung open. All eyes turned at once toward the entrance.

Liana, holding the basket of fruit, was no different from the others.

Through the open doors, Shed and Giselle entered together.

From her place, Liana looked up at Shed, who instantly drew every eye upon himself from the high steps. For the banquet, he was dressed with more formality than usual, wearing a plain black formal coat. Unlike the nobles adorned in lavish embroidery and jewels, his vest and jacket bore only slim lines of gold thread along the edges, with a few golden buttons stamped with the crest of House Lester.

A silk cravat, neatly tied over a white shirt. His hair combed smooth. Straight brows, and that same indifferent expression as always.

Nothing flamboyant. Nothing ostentatious.

And yet, Shed Lester stood out more than anyone, unmistakable even among the glittering throng.

So too did Giselle beside him.

For the first time in a long while, she was not dressed in clerical robes, but in civilian attire. The hem of her sleek mermaid gown flared softly, like an overturned flower bud opening. Her hair, half tied back and adorned with a silver hair vine, shimmered like waves in motion.

She was dressed in black, while Giselle was dressed in pure white. This contrast only served to make their presence more striking.

Without thinking, Liana smoothed her palms over the worn fabric of her maid’s uniform, straightening it. The plain garment melted into the background of the hall. Surrounded by nobles in brilliant attire, she stood out as an outsider.

She looked at him — the one who belonged at the heart of this gathering. She considered it a small mercy that she could at least hide behind ordinariness. If she blended in so well, perhaps when she disappeared one day, no one would notice.

Then, cold violet eyes turned towards her.

Startled, as though she had been caught in the act, Liana flinched and averted her gaze. In such a vast hall filled with so many people, it was impossible for him to have recognized her for sure.

Gathering up the empty basket, she hurried towards the back kitchen as though fleeing.

🌺⟡───⟡🌺 🌺⟡───⟡🌺

As Shed and Giselle descended to the center of the hall, people quickly crowded around them, eager to speak.

“With Your Eminence here, even heretics must be trembling outside the gates.”

“It is not my doing but the grace of God that keeps us safe.”

Giselle answered, guiding the conversation with practiced ease.

Shed remained silent, captivating the entire hall as he watched. She had a natural talent for drawing all the attention to herself. Even with Shed and Dietrich present, Giselle was the undoubted centre of attention at the banquet.

“It’s a pity that Viscount Eclace is absent, though.”

“While our High Priestess protected us from heretics, Viscount Eclace undertook the task of rebuilding the city. He even brought in renowned craftsmen and architects.”

“He might have stayed a day or two longer instead of leaving in such haste…”

“Well, he’s always a busy man, isn’t he? Truthfully, he stayed in Faradel longer than most expected.”

The guests murmured with disappointment at Eclace’s absence—not out of affection, but because they had hoped to secure his favor, and because his purse had played no part in funding the banquet.

They whispered that, had Eclace been present, the tables would have groaned beneath a greater variety of dishes, and the musicians in the corner would have been twice as many.

Shed stood beside Giselle, listening absently to the chatter. He was never skilled at this sort of social exchange.

As he made his slow circuit of the hall, a heavy, sweet fragrance brushed past his nose.

His eyes widened, pupils dilating as he turned sharply toward the source of the scent.

‘Liana?’

Her face flickered across his mind, but there was no one there. Only a fruit basket sat abandoned on a round table.

The heart that had begun to pound violently settled, beat by beat. With a strange tightness in his chest, Shed pressed a hand against it.

‘Was it nothing but nerves…?’

Between the festival and the coming heretic hunt, he had too much weighing on his mind. Perhaps he was simply overreacting.

“Duke Lester, are you well?”

“…I’m fine. Please, go on.”

Shed lowered the hand that had been clutching at his chest, feigning composure as he spoke.