The people who filled the ballroom of the Lion Palace froze, as though they had forgotten how to speak—how to *breathe*.
Evangeline's silver hair billowed through the air, and it seemed as if every beam of light in the vast chamber had converged into a single, blinding point. Her gown swayed with each measured step, gold threads and crystal embellishments catching the chandeliers' glow and scattering it like shattered starlight. The snow-white girl's presence was so luminous, so *absolute*, that every gaze was helplessly drawn to her. The opulent grandeur of the Lion Palace—its gilded columns, its cascading silks, its centuries of imperial splendor—paled to a mere backdrop.
*"…Evangeline Rohanson? They say she's a real monster…"*
If creatures beyond human understanding and common sense were called monsters, then Evangeline Rohanson stood at the very apex of that category.
Her appearance was so insanely perfect that it made one doubt the reality of what they were witnessing. If someone had claimed she was sculpted by God himself, it wouldn't have seemed far-fetched. But for a creature into which a deity might have poured love, she lacked warmth entirely.
Rather, she resembled a sculpture—one created through millennia of labor by some immoral being imitating divine power, reproduced down to the smallest detail, right down to the texture of her skin. And yet, this sculpture breathed. It moved. It spoke. The very fact of its existence seemed audacious. *Defiant*.
Her lips curved into a flawless smile, the kind honed through endless practice to achieve an impeccable image. That perfection was precisely why it was so easy to dismiss her as *unhuman*.
Those haughty scarlet eyes slid slowly across the luxurious halls of the Lion Palace.
Anyone who accidentally met that gaze felt as though they were facing a predator. They cowered instinctively, holding their breath; some even hiccupped awkwardly from the sudden tension. A visceral feeling rose in their chests—the sensation of sharp fangs hovering just above their throats—and every instinct screamed at them to run and never look back.
---
Evangeline Rohanson, appearing alongside a knight of purity as dazzlingly bright as she herself was cold and dark, exchanged formal greetings with her father, Count Rohanson. There was a strange incongruity about her presence, as though she had been forcibly squeezed into an alien mold, mimicking humanity. Yet outwardly, she remained the flawless aristocrat.
Even her greeting to the Crown Prince was perfect. Not a single wasted movement. Not the slightest mistake. Every action seemed calculated in advance, and she moved like a wound-up doll executing its programmed dance.
*"But why did Madame Toten become her chaperone..."*
*"Probably because of her son? They say there are similar rumors going around…"*
Kinder Toten, who accompanied Evangeline, endured the sharp glances and whispered speculation with practiced calm, pretending not to notice any of it.
It was no exaggeration to say the entire ballroom was staring only at them. When something clearly alien and out of place appears among ordinary people, every eye is inevitably drawn to it.
The fear surrounding the young Lady Rohanson did not spare even the imperial family. The Crown Prince strained visibly to maintain his composure, though he was clearly unsettled beneath his mask of protocol. Having received a sword as a gift, he was so frightened that he didn't even dare draw it from its sheath. In comparison, the Emperor's other grandchildren appeared far more confident—or perhaps simply more skilled at hiding their unease.
"I hope you have a wonderful time at the ball."
After the Crown Prince spoke these words, Evangeline descended smoothly from the platform.
Although she was presented as a debutante, her debut was unofficial—arranged through the convenient ruse of the Crown Prince's invitation rather than a formal introduction ceremony.
Evangeline was not alone in this. Many families resorted to similar practices, and among the young aristocrats strolling through the hall, several wore flowers pinned to their attire—the traditional sign of debutante status.
---
Kinder, without fully realizing it, found herself absently fingering the crystal flower at her bodice while explaining the general proceedings of the ball to Evangeline.
"The ball itself will begin after His Highness the Crown Prince performs the first dance. Until then, guests are free to circulate, mingle, and exchange greetings."
This was information a chaperone would typically provide well in advance, but Kinder had spent the past five days consumed with caring for Ryder. There had been no time to explain everything properly.
Suddenly, the image of her son—passed too soon, *far* too soon—flashed through her mind. Tears pricked at her eyes, hot and unbidden, but she forced them back with an iron will. To honor Ryder's final wishes, no one could learn of his death. Kinder had to remain calm. She had to act as though nothing had happened.
*Nothing at all.*
Having finished her explanation, she turned her attention to Gabriel.
"Perhaps we should first greet those on Sir Gabriel's list? Will simply introducing the ladies be sufficient?"
"Yes." His voice was steady, measured. "That will be enough."
When Gabriel had entrusted Kinder with the role of chaperone, he had also provided her with a list of aristocrats and influential figures to introduce Evangeline to. By a strange coincidence, all of his selections were frequent visitors to the temple and already acquainted with Kinder, making the task seem straightforward.
She was about to approach the largest gathering on the list when one of the knights, scanning the room with a practiced eye, approached Gabriel.
"Commander, Sir Musetta has discovered something unusual. He requests that you personally inspect it."
"What exactly did he discover?"
"He emphasized that it must be *you*, Sir Gabriel, who comes."
Gabriel's gaze shifted to Evangeline, concern flickering in his pale eyes. Under any other circumstances, he would have been reluctant to leave her alone. But this summons came from Sir Musetta—the Crown Prince's own bodyguard.
"Lady Rohanson, would you mind if I step away for a moment?"
There was caution in his voice, and Kinder felt as though he wasn't merely asking permission—he was awaiting his *master's* approval.
"Yes. You may go."
"I'll return before the first dance."
Having received Evangeline's consent, Gabriel touched the edge of her white glove with the utmost care, as though handling something infinitely precious, and then hurried after the Crown Prince's bodyguard.
Evangeline watched his retreating back for a moment, her scarlet eyes unreadable. Then she turned to Kinder and spoke as if she had been waiting for the precise instant he vanished from sight.
"Mrs. Toten, may I ask you for one more favor?"
"Yes, of course. As many as you require."
At Kinder's unconditional consent, something in Evangeline's fierce expression *softened*—though "softened" was perhaps too generous a word. Obedience was immediately rewarded with a marginally gentler response, and Kinder now understood with sudden clarity why the high-born holy knight served Lady Rohanson as her squire.
The privilege of standing at the highest rung of her hierarchy was *intoxicating*.
"Do you remember what I told you?"
"About what, exactly?"
*Which time?* The day Lady Rohanson had first visited the Marquis's estate? That meeting had been so stunning that Evangeline's words were etched permanently into Kinder's memory. She nodded cautiously, and Evangeline continued.
"I truly wish to speak with Grandfather. Could you help me, Madam?"
Evangeline had mentioned Duke Hosakine before, of course—but hadn't that merely been a pretext?
"With Duke Hosakine?"
"Yes." Evangeline's smile did not waver. "It's such a pity that, although we are related, we remain so distant from one another."
The words were spoken with an innocence that sent a violent shiver down Kinder's spine. She ran her hand instinctively down her arm, trying to suppress the chill. Even feeling indebted to Evangeline, she could not shake that cold, creeping dread.
Kinder had witnessed Ryder return to life with her own eyes. She understood now that Evangeline, once thought dead, was actually *alive*—and she realized that, just as with Ryder, something *else* lurked beneath that beautiful, deathless surface.
Evangeline's pretense was far more terrifying for it.
Yet Kinder could not refuse.
"There are rumors that Duke Hosakine has severed relations with the Countess," she said carefully, "so arranging a proper conversation may prove difficult. But if the lady desires it, I will try."
"That will be enough."
---
Kinder, watching Duke Hosakine from across the room and calculating the best moment to approach, decided to fulfill Gabriel's request first. The group containing the largest number of names on his list stood relatively close.
As she made her way toward them with Evangeline at her side, she noticed immediately how the guests grew wary, their postures stiffening with tension. But when they realized that Kinder—well-known and well-respected—was about to make an introduction, their expressions transformed. Wariness gave way to eager anticipation.
"Ms. Toten, what is happening? If you've taken on the role of chaperone, does that mean you knew Lady Rohanson beforehand? You never mentioned it!"
"Please, introduce us as well!"
"I couldn't inform you in advance because Sir Gabriel approached me quite unexpectedly." Kinder inclined her head gracefully. "Allow me to introduce Lady Rohanson."
Amid the envious glances—curiosity tangled with caution—and the varied reactions of those who, having absorbed enough rumors, preferred to maintain a safe distance, the people whose names appeared on the holy knight's list reacted most strangely of all.
"It is a pleasure to meet you. I am Evangeline Rohanson."
Her voice sounded as though it drifted from a dream world—melodic, otherworldly, *wrong*.
Baron Ubala and his wife. Lady Tafoni. The merchant Gleysia Rake. All four continued to stare at Evangeline with blank, mesmerized gazes, as though caught in a deep trance.
"You're staring so intently that I find myself feeling rather *awkward*."
Evangeline did not allow a smile to touch her lips. Instead, she narrowed her eyes ever so slightly—a gesture that conveyed an unmistakable warning. The four guests immediately stammered apologies and began showering her with flattery, their words tumbling over one another in their haste to appease.
Yet no matter what honeyed phrases they employed now, it was unlikely many would dare to anger Evangeline directly in front of her face—even if later, safely beyond her gaze, their tongues would regain courage for whispered gossip.
The conversation flowed calmly enough, though it lacked any particular substance. The small cluster of people strained visibly to maintain dialogue for the sake of one person, and from the outside, it resembled nothing so much as a carefully staged theatrical scene.
When the conversation began to falter, Evangeline gave a subtle signal.
"Madam, it would be a pleasure to remain here and continue our discussion, but didn't you mention beforehand that you wished to introduce me to a few more guests?"
*Time to take their leave.*
Kinder grasped the meaning instantly. She supported the transition and excused them with practiced grace.
"Indeed. The conversation was so pleasant that I nearly forgot. Forgive us for interrupting, but the lady and I must continue our rounds. I wish you all a most enjoyable evening."
---
Those who remained watched the snow-white hem of Evangeline's gown recede into the glittering crowd. When she had vanished from sight, they released a collective, heavy sigh.
"Did I *dream* that?"
The four whose names had appeared on the list seemed to come back to themselves, as though the recent stupor—during which they had appeared to lose their minds entirely—had been nothing more than a fleeting illusion.
"Lady Tafoni, you've seemed rather out of sorts lately, but you finally look yourself again."
"Was I out of sorts?" Lady Tafoni blinked, bewildered. "That can't be right."
"Last time, you spilled scalding tea on yourself and didn't even react. It was *hot*, my lady..."
"…I did?"
Lady Tafoni, seemingly with no memory of the incident whatsoever, covered her mouth with her hand in shock. A barely noticeable burn mark remained on the back of her palm.
---
Kinder, accompanying Evangeline, continued to circulate among the guests, exchanging greetings and pleasantries. After the fifth such circuit, Evangeline suggested a pause.
"Perhaps we should take a brief rest? You truly do know an impressive number of people, Mrs. Toten." A faint, unreadable smile curved her lips. "If I were to greet *everyone* you wished to introduce me to, I fear I would be entirely exhausted before the first dance even begins."