TGW Chapter 16 Part 2

 

Doug approached Tuisa, the chieftain and son of the King, who was the representative of the allied nation’s diplomatic delegation.

"After the banquet, I hear you will be returning to your homeland. You won’t be staying for the first banquet of the new year?"

"No, I’d prefer to greet the new year at home."

"Was your stay here comfortable?"

"Very much so. Count Merse treated me like family. I’m leaving after being lavished with hospitality. You will be received as a distinguished guest anytime you visit the allied nations."

The chieftain caught Count Merse's eye and expressed his gratitude, to which the Count smiled warmly.

"I will make sure to visit. I am delighted by our newfound connection."

Doug concealed his irritation. He had intended to bring the chieftain to the duke’s manor, but he was a step too late.

‘A cunning fox.’

Knowing that the Iron King had introduced the Count of Merse, Doug felt like he’d been punched. Count Merse was publicly known to be friendly with the Rimone family. The Iron King’s gesture of introducing someone outside his own circle earned him favor among the nobles.

‘This one is a fox too. It seems he and the Iron King are well-matched.’

Doug also found Count Merse irritating.

The relationship between the Merse family and the Rimone family was not as the rumors suggested. The Merse family had always survived by playing both sides.

They avoided standing out and followed the prevailing trend, always prioritizing their family’s interests. The one the Count of Merse had been cautious around was the late Duke.

Doug noticed that after his father’s funeral, a few families that had once curried favor began to distance themselves. The Merze family was among them.

‘Insufferable fools. I’ll remember every last one of them.’

While Doug was left in the background, the conversation between the Count and the chieftain continued amicably.

"The Princess isn’t going back with you, I hear."

"That thoughtless girl. I hope she hasn’t been too much trouble for you, Count."

"Not at all. The Princess is a wise woman, and her presence is certainly beneficial for maintaining friendly relations between our nations."

A translator hovered close to the chieftain, always ready to interpret. Because of this, their conversation moved slowly.

Doug clicked his tongue.

‘This is so frustrating.’

If they could speak the same language, they could have private conversations and build a closer relationship. But in the month the delegation stayed, Doug had gleaned nothing.

He still had no idea what the Emperor had negotiated with the allied nation or whether they were genuinely considering granting the Marquis of Rad a proxy. There was so little information that he didn’t know where to start.

Nothing like this had happened in the late Duke’s time. The late Duke had managed every situation from his seat. The Empire had never slipped out of the late Duke’s grasp. Thus, everything had been predictable.

The unification of the desert tribes and the birth of the allied nation were enormous events, yet the Rimone family had no influence over them. Doug felt a sense of urgency. It seemed like he was revealing his inadequacy compared to his father.

"I believe she has some sly intentions," the chieftain said suddenly.

"Sly intentions?"

"Regarding the Marquis of Raad."

"Pardon?"

The surprised Count laughed awkwardly, but Doug’s eyes gleamed, having stumbled upon an unexpected piece of information.

‘He’s the biggest problem.’

The Marquis of Raad had arrived out of nowhere, like a massive boulder, not a small pebble.

‘Could they be involved romantically? If that’s the case, it makes sense. If the allied nation's king intends to make him his son-in-law... Should I approach the Princess?’

The herald at the entrance of the banquet hall shouted.

"Her Majesty, the Silver King, and Lord Rouk have arrived!"

---

The atmosphere of the banquet hall, already lively, reached its peak with the arrival of the Silver King. Sienna’s first impression was simple.

‘It isn’t cold.’

The temperature outside had suddenly dropped the day before, leaving the weather outside chilly, but inside the hall, it was as warm as a spring day.

‘Ah, truly.’

‘Her Majesty the Silver King becomes more beautiful by the day, blooming like a flower.’

‘Indeed, she is at the height of her beauty.’

‘Twenty years old—such a splendid time of life.’

The noblewomen sighed and whispered among themselves, their eyes quickly memorizing the design of the Silver King’s dress.

Patricia always commissioned three dresses for the Silver King from the top designers in the Empire. A designer chosen to make the Silver King’s dress saw their reputation skyrocket, often finding themselves comfortably wealthy afterward.

Only one of the three dresses would be chosen, and the designer whose dress was selected would be considered the best. Thus, designers were highly conscious of their competition and were pressured to create something unique. They were plagued by the compulsion to produce a masterpiece.

The Silver King was a flawless muse. With no physical flaws, she could wear anything, and it would suit her. Designers boldly experimented with new designs, and naturally, the dresses Sienna wore set the latest trends.

Patricia's meticulous efforts ensured that her daughter, disinterested in social activities, became an influential figure that society couldn’t ignore.

"Your Highness."

Unexpectedly, Violet, the Iron King’s fiancée, was the first to approach Sienna.

"How have you been?"

"How about you? Have you recovered from your cold?"

Sienna had invited Violet to the palace as a response to the greenhouse party, but the invitation had to be canceled when Violet caught a cold.

"Yes, thanks for your concern. After drinking the tea you sent and getting plenty of rest, I fully recovered. You can’t imagine how disappointed I was to send my regrets to Your Majesty’s invitation."

"I’ll arrange another time to invite you."

"Truly? You promise?"

People exchanged puzzled looks between the Silver King and Violet. They didn’t appear to be putting on a show. It was confusing because it seemed impossible for them to be friendly. The two were supposed to be the last people to ever get along.

"Princess Fatima, are you enjoying the banquet?"

Sienna greeted Fatima, who stood beside Violet.

"Yes, Your Majesty. I heard that your mother, the Red King, prepared today’s banquet. It is splendid and perfect."

‘She seems to have found a dress that suits her better than the last time I saw her.’

At the greenhouse party, Fatima’s pale pink dress did not match her brown skin, making her look somewhat out of place. Today, Fatima wore a dress the color of the night sky, highlighted with elaborate embroidery reminiscent of peacock feathers.

‘She’s an attractive woman. Not the fair-skinned type that the Empire considers beautiful...’

Kuhn was not an Imperial citizen. His standards could be different. In the dream, Fatima had been Kuhn’s lover, which meant he found her attractive. There was no guarantee that he wouldn’t feel the same way now. Sienna couldn’t help but feel bothered by Fatima.

‘Truly… some people embody perfect beauty.’

Fatima felt a sense of defeat. She had admired the Princess’s beauty when she first saw her at the greenhouse party, but she hadn’t been envious. The Princess didn’t seem human. She was more like a goddess, worthy of reverence, not a subject of earthly love. Thus, Fatima had been confident that she wasn’t lacking in feminine allure.

Just before heading to the banquet hall, Fatima had stood before the mirror, satisfied with her appearance. But her newfound confidence quickly deflated. Today, the Princess looked like a goddess who had descended to earth in human form.

For the first time, Fatima saw herself shrinking in front of someone. It was truly dreadful.

"It seems my fiancée has a talent for sensing the Silver King’s presence."

The Iron King joined the group naturally as if he were simply coming to find his fiancée.

“Silver King, how long has it been? Is this the first time since the greenhouse party?”

“Yes.”

“And yet I feel like I saw you just yesterday. Violet talks about you so much. You take up half of our conversations.”

Sienna glanced at Violet. Her face had turned bright red, all the way to her neck.

"She kept complaining about not being able to attend after receiving your invitation. I know you’re busy, but can’t you spare a little time to entertain Violet?"

“Your Majesty, please…”

Violet muttered in a restrained voice, trying to stop Dian. She clenched her small fists and lightly pounded Dian’s arm.

“We were just discussing that. I will send Lady Grossi another invitation soon.”

“That’s wonderful news. Silver King, I’m afraid to look to my side right now. Is Violet glaring at me?”

Sienna let out a small laugh and immediately responded with a serious expression.

“Yes, very fiercely.”

Violet glared at Dian before looking down with a tearful expression. Dian laughed heartily.

The expressions of the people standing around were ambiguous. Some of them were extreme supporters of either side, ready to divide into factions at any moment. They were prepared to take sides and disparage the other if the Silver King and the Iron King clashed.

But instead of clashing, they were joking with each other in a friendly manner. People were confused, or baffled, or displeased. Their reactions varied, but no one openly expressed their discontent.

“The Silver King is not meeting the Marquis of Raad for the first time, is she? I don’t need to introduce him.”

Sienna and Kuhn’s eyes met. Kuhn bowed his head in greeting, and Sienna returned the greeting with a slight nod, glancing at Fatima, who stood beside him.

Just as Violet had stood close to her fiancé when Dian approached, Fatima stood by the Marquis’s side as if it were her place. The brief moment replayed slowly in Sienna’s mind.

Fatima’s exotic appearance, with her dark brown hair and brown skin, didn’t seem out of place next to Kuhn. It irritated her. A faint but unpleasant feeling crept up from the depths of her chest.

“Oh, come to think of it, Lord Rouk, I hear you’re quite close with the Marquis of Raad.”

“Well, that’s...”

Joseph hesitated, glancing at the Marquis. He didn’t have the courage to boldly declare, ‘We are close,’ with the person in question standing right there. If the Marquis denied it, it would be incredibly embarrassing. He wouldn’t be able to show his face in high society for a while.

If only the Marquis would make a reasonable remark, he could simply agree and move on. Joseph felt resentful toward the Marquis, who seemed indifferent.

“The rumors are exaggerated. We merely exchanged greetings in passing.”

“That’s not what I heard. I heard that you had tea with the Marquis almost every day for a while. I doubt anyone has spent as much time with the Marquis as you.”

Dian’s words made it sound plausible. Joseph began to wonder, ‘Am I really that close to the Marquis?’

However, those awkward tea sessions were torture. It was a pain he couldn’t share with anyone else.

‘What was his real intention, Marquis Raad?’

At first, Joseph thought the Marquis was interested in the Princess and trying to get closer to her. But the more he thought about it, the more he suspected that the Marquis had another motive.

“Since Lord Rouk is at a loss for words, it must have been a very important conversation. What do you say, Marquis Raad?”

“I merely shared information about the desert since both showed interest in it.”

“The desert? What kind? Your experiences there, Marquis?”

“A bit of everything.”

Dian uttered an exaggerated exclamation.

“Lord Rouk, you have heard some precious stories. I envy you.”

Joseph’s face twitched slightly. It was maddening. The desert? There was only one memorable conversation.

He had asked, "What is the climate of the desert like?" to which the Marquis had tersely replied:

“It’s hot.”

‘Why is he lying like that?’

Joseph turned his gaze to the princess. He hoped she would scold the Marquis sharply, exposing his deceit. But the princess’s expression remained as indifferent as ever.

‘I can never figure out what’s going on in her mind.’

Joseph seethed with frustration.

‘Ah, I see. The Marquis is up to something clever!’

Just as the rumors suggested, Marquis Raad was undoubtedly an ally of the Iron King. Whatever his scheme was, it was an insidious plot.

‘I am the Silver King’s fiancé. I should be considered her closest confidant. I need to stay alert.’

"I envy you, Your Highness," Joseph said, redirecting the conversation. "You seem so close with your fiancée. Is there any good news coming soon?"

Dian smiled and nodded.

"We are to be married in the spring of next year."

"Congratulations."

"Congratulations, Your Majesty."

Congratulations came from all around. Joseph also offered his congratulations, though he was genuinely envious.

‘When will it be my turn…?’

He had subtly hinted to the Red King, but there was no response. His relationship with the princess was not progressing. He felt anxious.

The background music, which had been playing softly, began to change with more harmonies. The attendees subtly noticed the shift in the atmosphere. Joseph placed a hand on his chest and bowed slightly to Sienna.

"Your Highness, may I have this dance?"

The first dance was traditionally reserved for one’s partner, a custom in their social circles. Sienna took Joseph’s extended hand. The two of them walked to the center of the hall. The crowd formed a circle around them at a respectful distance.

The waltz began to play. The crowd offered the first waltz of the evening to the Silver King and her fiancé. The spacious hall was theirs alone. A man with a gloomy expression watched the couple, who were the center of everyone’s attention.

‘That should have been me…’

Levi clenched his fists. It could have been his. At one point, he had come so close that his sense of defeat was even greater. The Red King had almost given him the impression that he would be the chosen fiancé, only to abruptly inform him that things had changed.

The humiliation of that moment... Levi gritted his teeth and bit the inside of his cheek. He was angry, but there was nothing he could do. It was an unspoken truth that the Red King chose the Silver King’s consort.

Unable to watch their waltz any longer, Levi turned away.

‘I’m going home.’

There was no way he could enjoy this year’s year-end banquet. As he trudged heavily, he accidentally bumped into a middle-aged noblewoman emerging from the crowd.

“Oh!”

“Oh, I’m terribly sorry, my lady.”

The champagne glass in the noblewoman’s hand spilled onto her skirt, staining the white fabric with a red liquid.

“Oh dear, what a mess.”

“My apologies!”

“It’s partly my fault for not watching where I was going,” the noblewoman said as she looked around. “I don’t see my husband anywhere. Would you mind escorting me to the lounge?”

“Of course. I’d be happy to help.”

Levi accompanied the noblewoman out of the banquet hall toward the lounge. The corridor was relatively empty. The lounge she was heading for was at the far end. Both the hallway leading to the lounge and the inside of the lounge were deserted.

“I am Levi Morton, Count of Morton. If you contact the Morton family, I will make sure to compensate you for the ruined dress.”

“Oh, so you’re Count Morton. I wondered who this kind gentleman was. No need for compensation.”

Levi sighed in relief as he exited the lounge. It seemed he had resolved the situation without causing a scene. He walked down the empty corridor, noticing a door to another lounge slightly ajar.

‘Was that open earlier?’

He was about to walk past without much thought when he heard voices from inside.

“Joseph Rouk?”

Levi’s steps halted.

“Are you sure? Not some other Rouk?”

“Yes, I’m certain.”

Levi concealed his presence and cautiously approached the door. Peering through the gap, he saw two men inside. One wore a tailcoat, indicating he was likely an attendee of the banquet.

‘I don’t recognize him.’

The other man was dressed like a coachman or a servant. While servants were generally not allowed in, the rules were not strictly enforced. Servants and maids often came in and out of the lounge for minor errands. As long as they didn’t enter the banquet hall itself, their presence was tolerated.

“If what you’re saying is true, this could lead to a broken engagement.”

Levi’s body stiffened.

“Why are you bringing this up only now?”

“I didn’t know either. I just found out my sister eloped in the middle of the night with some man. Please, sir, help me. Save my sister.”

The man in the tailcoat hesitated before shaking his head.

“The risk is too great. There’s nothing for me to gain by getting involved. I’ll pretend I didn’t hear any of this. You should consider your sister as good as lost. Don’t invite unnecessary trouble. And make sure to have my shoes sent directly to the cobbler.”

The man turned to leave. Levi quickly pressed himself against the wall behind the door. He held his breath until the man in the tailcoat had walked out and disappeared down the corridor.

Levi rechecked his surroundings before cautiously stepping inside. The man was kneeling, hands on the floor, his head bowed low. Despair was written all over his posture.

Levi quietly closed the door behind him. The man looked up at the sound of the lock turning, his face showing shock. Levi put a finger to his lips, signaling for silence.

“Would you mind telling me more about your sister?”

This was an opportunity.

Levi heard a voice whispering in his ear.

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