Masks
"Gold, silk, and smiles—thin veils over old grudges."
On Sunday evening, Valdina’s nobles and the Katzen delegation filtered into the great banquet hall one by one.
It was the night of the official welcome banquet for Katzen’s envoys.
From Valdina’s perspective, Katzen’s aid was desperately needed. The outcome of the war might well hinge upon how this night unfolded.
So, even under crushing constraints, they had poured their remaining resources into making the banquet as splendid as possible.
"Are these violettas? The ones that bloom year-round? It must have been difficult to fly them in."
"Indeed. The fragrance is remarkable. Whoever thought of this made the hall feel brighter."
A sweet, mysterious floral scent drifted throughout the room.
The chandelier shone more brilliantly than ever, the limestone floor gleamed softly, and gold candlesticks spread warm light. Care and expense were visible in every corner.
It was a show of sincerity and luxury that rivaled the recent banquet celebrating Medea’s recovery.
The Katzen nobles swept their eyes over the hall.
"My, this feels more like a provincial tea party than a proper banquet."
"Be kind. Tonight’s feast likely cost half of Valdina’s treasury."
They compared everything they saw to Katzen—and found it wanting.
"Is that supposed to be a golden candlestick? And they dare display this as a national treasure? It says everything about Valdina’s level."
Some didn’t even bother to lower their voices.
"Those idiots. Years pass, and yet Katzen always sends the same arrogant trash."
The Queen Mother’s temper flared. Madame Pinatelli soothed her with a worried look.
"If it weren’t for the relief they’ve promised, I’d have had those insolent brats dragged from the palace already."
"Your Majesty, please—compose yourself. It’s still early."
"I know. Don’t fret. I won’t ruin the evening—not yet."
But the Queen Mother understood better than anyone how vital Katzen’s aid had become.
The veins on the back of her wrinkled hand stood out starkly as she tightened her grip on the armrest.
While the envoys craned their necks to scrutinize the hall, Jared’s attention was elsewhere.
"Princess Valdina’s face was flawless. Kensington, where is the Princess? I want to see her."
"General, please lower your voice. This is hardly the place."
Even for a Ten-Star Knight and war hero, Jared’s behavior was astonishingly crude.
Kensington knew the man’s infuriating personality, but even he hadn’t expected Jared to act so freely in such a formal setting. It was as if the moment they left the imperial capital, he’d tossed aside all restraint.
"She’s the only Princess Valdina has. You can’t behave recklessly around her."
"Exactly why she’s irresistible. She keeps avoiding me—so help me, Kensington. Just open the way, and I’ll handle the rest."
His leering tone carried clearly across the hall.
Valdinian nobles frowned deeply.
"Say what you will about Medea, but she’s the King’s only sister. How dare that bastard speak of her like that!"
Among them, the Margrave of Montega was especially incensed.
"It’s not just Her Highness he mocks. He’s insulting all of us. Claudio, we ought to protest at once!"
The Prince Regent’s head throbbed.
"Ahem. It is… a little excessive. But calm yourself. Are you planning to overturn the entire banquet that’s just begun?"
I thought I had some measure of their arrogance…
But they’ve far exceeded even my expectations.
If the Katzen delegation kept this up, the backlash at home would be severe. They could return to Katzen—but he had to remain in Valdina.
The Regent sent a subtle signal to Count Raju, urging him to rein in his countrymen.
But Raju, lacking any real authority over them, merely spread his hands helplessly.
Jared wasn’t the only one searching for the Princess amid the crowd.
She wouldn’t skip the official welcome banquet.
Jason’s brows furrowed.
Ever since that first day, he’d loitered around the Princess’s palace, postponing other diplomatic meetings in the hope of seeing her.
But he hadn’t caught a single glimpse.
All the gifts he’d sent as tokens of friendship had been returned unopened.
You must have seen me.
Winning hearts—especially those of women—had never been difficult for him.
Good looks, gentle manners, and seemingly sincere warmth—few could keep their guard up for long.
This was his first time facing someone so entirely unresponsive.
"It’s said Her Highness dislikes socializing and usually stays within the palace. Only recently has she begun appearing outside more often."
His aide had added that much, while Jason hunted for any trace of her movements.
Still, he’d never expected it to be this difficult.
His fingers twitched slightly.
As though I’m reaching for something just beyond my grasp.
The memory of her luminous silver hair, so fine it looked like it might break under his hand, wouldn’t leave his mind.
"By the way, Your Highness—did you hear? Façade has a presence in the castle as well."
"Façade? Here, in Valdina?"
"Yes. At a recent banquet in the royal palace, the head of Façade reportedly appeared in person."
Jason’s eyes narrowed.
The ‘powder-ghosts’ of the continent—the mercenary network that thrived in the shadows—had come all the way to Valdina?
"If that’s true, it suggests Façade and the Valdina royal family are quite close. That could be… inconvenient for us."
His aide looked uneasy.
"If we reject their request for aid, Façade might pressure us behind the scenes."
Jason, however, smiled.
"Angelique is the official head of this delegation. Let her carry that burden. For us, this is an opportunity. If I can establish a connection with Façade here…"
Then there’s nothing to fear.
With Façade at my back, I can overshadow the First Prince’s forces and absorb them by force if I must.
"Valdina is a land of golden prospects for me."
He smiled, wholly satisfied with his own calculations.
On the Valdina side, Medea received greetings from her country’s nobles.
"I greet Your Highness, Princess Medea."
"Marquis Aspasia, I trust you’ve been well."
Though they were on home ground at a familiar sort of banquet, the nobles’ faces were tight, expressions a mix of tension and unease.
Then, behind Medea, someone called out softly in recognition.
She turned.
"Sister Medea."
It was Birna.
The crowd instinctively parted.
The fact that Princess Claudio had left the castle in the middle of the night was no longer fresh gossip—only a constant, low murmur.
Birna bit the inside of her cheek beneath the weight of those half-averted stares, but kept smiling.
Her white dress, pure as a saint’s robe, paired prettily with her pink hair. She looked as lovely as ever.
Yet hardship at the convent had carved hollows into her cheeks that even careful makeup couldn’t conceal.
"Birna."
"I’ve returned."
Her eyes gleamed with something darker than simple resentment.
"I’m very glad. I worried about you. How was life at the convent?"
"...It was… pious. I prayed for Your Highness’s safety every day."
As though oblivious to the bitter hatred clouding Birna’s gaze, Medea gently corrected her.
"Oh, Birna. You must address me as ‘Your Highness.’ The Katzen envoys are present; if Grandmother hears that you slipped in your etiquette again, she’ll be furious."
"..."
"I say this for your sake. I know better than anyone what it’s like to fall under Grandmother’s displeasure."
The Queen Mother’s anger toward Duke Claudio still hadn’t cooled.
Only a short while ago, when the Regent dragged Birna in to offer greetings, the Queen Mother had pointedly ignored them both.
The corners of Birna’s mouth trembled as she chewed the inside of her cheek.
I will never go back there.
Months of harsh discipline in the convent had taught her that much.
It was the only reason she could swallow her rage at Medea’s infuriatingly gentle admonitions.
"...Of course, Your Highness."
Birna forced a smile.
Just then, the atmosphere of the hall shifted. The main doors opened, and several imposing men strode in.
"Those must be Façade’s mercenaries…"
They wore evening clothes appropriate to the occasion, but the sharp, predatory air about them drew every eye in the room.
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