Chapter 6

Lisbeth wanted to get up and run out immediately. She, who had become a widow at a young age, was sitting here, while Dion, whom she had thought to be missing, stood in that radiant place, greeting the people—this reality was simply unbelievable.

But in this hall filled with people, Lisbeth didn’t have even a bit of courage to stand up alone and leave. Fearing someone might notice her trembling body, she bowed her head deeply.

Dion’s voice, echoing loudly through the hall, seemed to pierce her body painfully.

He probably didn’t recognize her. They had parted ways around the age of sixteen. Now, both were in their twenties. Besides, how could he possibly find her among so many people? He wouldn’t even know if Lisbeth was there, nor where she would be sitting.

That moment when our eyes met earlier must have been just a coincidence. Yes, that must be it. There was no way Dion could have recognized me.

But our eyes had definitely met.

Those eyes, certainly……

The banquet that followed couldn’t be avoided. There was no escape on this day. And Dion would surely come to that place.

She just needed to go home before she ran into him. Lisbeth, clasping her hands tightly on her lap, muttered inwardly. She didn’t want Dion to see her reduced to such a pitiful state.

She just wanted to remain in his memory as the lovely lady from the past. Not as a pitiful woman who had been forced into an unwanted marriage, lost her husband, and been left alone.

Lisbeth’s mind wandered so much that she couldn’t even remember how the Grand Festival prayer proceeded. Even though she thought no one would notice, she hunched her shoulders and bowed her head so much that the Madames sitting beside her began to worry, asking if she was feeling unwell. She forced a smile and gave a vague answer, pretending to be a little unwell.

After the prayer meeting ended, Lisbeth’s plan to move as quietly and alone as possible was quickly rendered useless.

“After coming out for the first time in a while, where are you off to already, Madame Ellor?”

“That’s right, Lisbeth. You can enjoy yourself a bit more.”

The excited Madames linked arms with Lisbeth and led her away. Lisbeth, with a flustered face, tried to decline, muttering, “No, um, wait a moment,” but the Madames’ strength was too much for her to resist. Or perhaps she was just too weak.

Viscountess Higgins giggled as she led Lisbeth along.

“We have to secure a good seat quickly. If you stand at the back wall, you won’t be able to see anything!”

“See what, exactly?”

“Oh, Madame Ellor. Don’t pretend you don’t know. Of course, it’s to get a good look at Priest Dion who was introduced today!”

At the mention of Dion’s name, chills ran down Lisbeth’s back. Unaware of her feelings, the Madames nearly dragged Lisbeth to the front center of the banquet hall. The Madames giggled and whispered.

“When else will we get a feast for the eyes like this?”

“That’s right. Oh my, after only seeing my husband’s face at home, seeing Priest Dion’s face made me feel like my eyes were opened!”

“For such a man to be a priest—God must be so indifferent!”

“Maybe He values beauty so much that He made him a priest.”

Cackling and laughing, the Madames were in high spirits. Only Lisbeth stood among them, her face pale.

No, she couldn’t face Dion while standing here like this. Lisbeth felt as if her stomach was churning. She gently slipped her arm out from Baroness Ceylon’s and said,

“Um, excuse me for a moment. I think I need to visit the powder room. My stomach is a bit….”

“Oh, Lisbeth. Your face is so pale. I’m sorry, I didn’t even notice.”

“It’s nothing. I think breakfast isn’t sitting well. I’ll just catch my breath and come back.”

“All right, go quickly.”

Clutching her dress tightly, Lisbeth hurried away. The lavishly decorated banquet hall felt so out of place for her. No, perhaps it wasn’t just her circumstances making her feel that way.

It was because of that man who would soon appear—because when she faced him, she didn’t feel proud or dignified at all. She was ashamed to show herself, unloved by anyone, having lost her husband and become a young widow. Lisbeth tried to hold back tears, tightening her eyes.

When the master who had entered the banquet hall quickly came out, Anna, who had been waiting in the corridor outside, approached with wide eyes. Seeing Lisbeth’s pale complexion, Anna quickly reached out her hand.

“Madame, please take my hand. Are you all right?”

“…If I rest for a moment, I’ll feel better soon. It’s just my stomach isn’t well.”

Lisbeth placed her hand on Anna’s and leaned on her slightly. Anna immediately led her toward the powder room. With her eyes lowered as she walked, Lisbeth thought,

I wanted to go home just like this.

But it was still the Grand Festival banquet, and neither the King nor the Queen, nor the High Priest or Dion had arrived yet. For nobles, it was proper etiquette to at least greet them at the banquet before leaving on such a day. Telling herself she just had to endure a little longer, Lisbeth bit her lip tightly.

There were only a few Madames and ladies in the powder room, lightly fixing their makeup or hair. When they saw Lisbeth, they looked surprised and greeted her with their eyes. Anna shielded her master from their gaze and guided her to a seat in a secluded corner. Lisbeth slumped onto a soft, long sofa, and Anna brought her some water. After sipping a few mouthfuls, Lisbeth handed the cup back and buried her face in her arms.

“Are you feeling unwell?”

“No, I’m just a bit tired… It’s probably because I haven’t been out in a while.”

“Shall we go home? Oh, but that won’t do.”

“That’s right. I have to leave after greeting His Majesty the King and the priests, so I have to endure just a bit longer.”

How could such lies come so easily from her lips? She wasn’t actually unwell—she was simply afraid to face Dion again. In truth, it was a ridiculous situation. She didn’t even know if Dion still liked her, or even remembered her, and yet here she was, unable to compose herself.

Dion had surely forgotten her. If he had any lingering feelings at all, would he have chosen the path of a priest? No, perhaps he even resented her. When Dion’s father died, Lisbeth hadn’t been able to do anything. Maybe he believed she hadn’t “failed to act,” but rather, had “chosen not to act.”

No, it was just her fault. Lisbeth forced back the tears that threatened to well up again. If all the makeup the maids had so carefully applied was ruined, how upset they would be. And if she returned to the hall with obvious signs of crying, how much people would gossip.