Chapter 7.4

The two exchanged no further words until Danielle, still seated, reached out her foot to find her shoe. Cyril couldn’t even discern whether his emotions were anger, regret, or just plain irritation.  

When Danielle finally slipped her shoe back on and stood up, dusting off her dress, the sky had grown almost dark, though the chamber music still played softly. Not as much time had passed as Cyril had feared, and he let out a sigh of relief meant for no one in particular. He wanted to draw the curtains and return to the hall. Surely there was no one left in the capital to spread strange rumors about Danielle and Cyril being alone together on the terrace… 

Danielle strode ahead, pulling the curtain aside with a dramatic sweep. For a moment, her retreating figure looked unfamiliar, like that of a stranger. A stranger, like the woman in the mage’s mask who had hurled insults at him before leaving in much the same way.  

Why that woman came to mind now, Cyril didn’t know. Swallowing a sigh, he followed Danielle back into the hall. She always argued that deliberately keeping a distance only made people more suspicious…  

Inside the hall, the music had stopped, and an unexpected guest was waving at them, drawing everyone’s attention.  

“Prince Marcelan!”  

Someone shouted energetically, breaking the rhythm of the performance. Prince Marcelan first approached Lisa Orlanque, the kingdom’s finest chamber music composer, to greet her and apologize for the interruption by kissing her hand. The middle-aged pianist laughed heartily, rising from the piano to raise her glass.  

Naturally, a break followed. The family of Viscount Dillor, who had been playing string instruments, set down their bows and joined the conversation.  

Marcelan, after thanking Orlanque and the other talented performers, turned his attention to the Ingram siblings. Whatever joke he made, Annemarie responded with her usual harmless laugh.  

Taking advantage of the commotion caused by the pause in music, Cyril and Danielle tried to slip into a corner unnoticed. Unfortunately, the prince, who had just released Annemarie’s hand, spotted them immediately.  

Once their eyes met, there was no escape. Dragged into the prince’s orbit—or rather, into the center of everyone’s attention in the hall—they smiled awkwardly, masking their discomfort.  

The entire hall had witnessed the two arriving with different partners, conversing on the terrace, and returning together.  

Prince Marcelan greeted them with his usual cheer.  

“Well, if it isn’t my dear subordinate and his fiancée, Miss Odillon.”  

“Greetings, Your Highness.”  

“…I didn’t expect to see you here, Commander.”  

Marcelan kissed Danielle’s hand lightly, smiling as he turned to Cyril. There was no way he hadn’t noticed their strained expressions. But as a prince—and a skilled knight—he was also a polite gentleman in social settings, so he directed his teasing at his subordinate rather than the lady.  

“Why, Sir Cyril. Why do you look as if you’ve seen something you shouldn’t?”  

“I wasn’t aware you were interested in music, Your Highness.”  

“You should pay more attention to your commander. I happen to be Lady Orlanque’s second patron.”  

To Cyril’s knowledge, Lady Orlanque’s second patron after Viscount Dillor was not the prince personally but the Roigar Royal Family. Usually, Princess Cléran took on the role of funding and boasting about such endeavors… though there was no rule against Marcelan stepping in occasionally.  

But Marcelan was different from Cléran. Every action he took, whether significant or trivial, had a purpose—this was what set him apart from his sister.  

While Cyril’s suspicions simmered, the prince revealed his second card. With his usual affable smile, he turned his head, and the crowd noticed something belatedly: Marcelan was still holding Danielle Odillon’s hand.  

For etiquette, the duration was too long. 

Was this supposed to be intriguing? 

With the characteristic smooth smile of the Roigar Royal Family, he greeted them once more.  

“Truthfully, I came rushing over because I heard the two of you were finally seen together after so long.”  

“Your Highness, you jest.”

“Yes, it’s a joke. The truth is, I came here to greet the Young Master and Miss Ingram, but seeing the two of you together… it’s been quite a while since that happened at a social gathering, hasn’t it?”  

If one included work, the last time they had met the prince was during the summer’s regular council meeting. While Cyril counted how long it had been since his last encounter with the prince at a banquet, Danielle quickly nodded.  

“I haven’t been attending social gatherings much these days. I made time today to accompany Young Master Ingram.”  

“It’s admirable that you’re personally looking after the Young Master, but isn’t accompanying your superior’s son an unfair extension of your duties? I should mention this to Director Ingram when I get the chance.”  

“Please be lenient with my unworthy father, Your Highness. I’ll make sure to take responsibility and not trouble Miss Odillon.”  

Felix Ingram joked from a short distance away, but the prince didn’t take it lightly.  

“Responsibility is for those who cause trouble. I hope you learn to take responsibility at the right time, Young Master.”  

Ah. 

Cyril could feel the drop in temperature on the back of his neck. 

Was Prince Marcelan truly here to greet the Ingrams—or had he chosen this harmonious and elegant music soirée just to pick a fight? 

That would be an uncharacteristic move for Marcelan. Normally, Marcelan of Roigar would have turned to a suitable lady and made a slightly mischievous but not impolite joke instead of delivering such pointed remarks…  

“So, I hear my subordinate has been giving you quite a hard time lately, Miss Odillon?”  

It was a day when everyone seemed doomed to fail. The prince’s voice carried, silencing the room, and as a result, Danielle’s response echoed even further.  

“Oh, no, Your Highness. He’s not troubling me… not over things like that.”  

Now, the atmosphere within a ten-step radius had turned completely icy. Danielle rarely made mistakes that ruined the mood, but this rare slip would be well-seasoned and served as the scandal of the night in the capital’s social circles… featuring the Ingram siblings and Prince Marcelan as garnishes.  

The prince, who had instigated this mess, simply laughed off Danielle’s disastrous reply.  

“‘Things like that,’ you say. Still, Sir Cyril is the hope of the Royal Knights and the finest man in the capital. Could you not treat him a bit more kindly, Miss Odillon? Of course, I’m always painfully reminded that you are precious talent we lost from the Knights.”  

Yet, as the prince continued, it became clear he wasn’t just laughing it off. Tilting his head slightly, he spoke in a voice that wasn’t exactly quiet but carried a deliberate weight.  

“There’s a clause in your engagement contract called the Lovron Clause, isn’t there? I’ve been wondering if we could apply it to employment contracts as well. Wouldn’t it be nice to create an irrefutable reason to leave the Investigation Bureau and transfer back to the Knights, Miss Odillon?”  

“You’re joking too much, Your Highness.”  

Danielle failed to maintain her composure once again. Standing beside her, Cyril had already given up on managing his expression altogether. The Lovron Clause. A clause about breaking off engagements, something Cyril had never thought about since signing the contract. It was a clause of exemption for things that were irreparable and irreversible. Cyril had often thought that if he’d been old enough to fully understand the contract’s terms when he got engaged, he would have insisted on removing such a reckless clause.  

The prince’s true intent wasn’t to invite Danielle back to the Knights. He had merely wanted to bring up the Lovron Clause, and everyone present could see that.  

Prince Marcelan didn’t apologize for his excessive joke. Nor did he express regret to his subordinate, who had effectively been insulted by the mention of an engagement termination clause. Instead, he simply said to Danielle:  

“It’s refreshing to see you being honest, Miss Odillon. Unless, of course, something truly troubling comes up.”  

The prince didn’t glance at Cyril even once. Holding Danielle’s hand, he walked to the center of the hall. When he requested a dance, Katarin, who had been lingering nervously in the background, quickly sat at the piano and began playing a lively waltz.  

Prince Marcelan danced with Danielle, while Lady Orlanque partnered with Viscount Dillor, spinning gracefully around the hall. Annemarie, who had been quietly observing the tense exchange, gave Cyril a small nod before taking her brother’s hand and joining the waltz.  

As more and more swirling skirts filled the dance floor, Cyril stood alone, abandoned like a curse in the middle of the hall. Danielle’s pale pink dress swirled in his mind as if it, too, were spinning endlessly.  

Would something truly troubling happen?