Ch.191191. Social Gathering (3)

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The nobles affiliated with the Council of Elders are, to put it kindly, dignified and formal scions of traditional prestigious families.

To put it unkindly, they’re discriminators steeped in genuine elitism.

Just listening to the conversation flowing from one table would confirm this.

“Do you know the name of the man Marquis Bogart personally invited this time, my lord?”

“I don’t quite remember… Campbell, was it? I heard he’s from such a family.”

“…A family I’ve never heard of. Perhaps his title…?”

“I heard he’s from a barony.”

Though they barely maintained their dignity, unmistakable sneers appeared on the faces of the men conversing.

Other scions of prestigious families sitting near the table each displayed their mockery in their own way.

Some even showed emotions bordering on contempt.

“If he’s from a barony… he must be from a family involved in industries like agriculture or mining. He wouldn’t be… familiar with social circles.”

Someone let that comment slip.

Of course, despite the concerned tone of the sentence, an inappropriate smirk hung on his face.

As if to say: a country bumpkin who doesn’t know his place will see what happens when he sets foot in a place like this.

“Lord Bogart is really too much, inviting someone who doesn’t even know proper etiquette. I’m worried he might just embarrass himself.”

“People grow through trials, don’t they?”

One of the men smoothly picked up the conversation.

The following sentence abandoned even the pretense of dignity they had been maintaining.

“Despite being from a barony, he doesn’t know his place and mingles with Her Majesty and the Prime Minister, thinking he’s somebody important.”

“…You sound rather resentful, don’t you?”

“Well. Though I often think my political insight cannot match Her Majesty or the Prime Minister… I personally admire both of them. They are the two women supporting the Empire, aren’t they?”

“That… cannot be denied. Both their beauty has truly reached the realm of nation-toppling splendor.”

“Her Majesty possesses beauty like a single rose blooming on a cliff, while the Prime Minister always carries the lofty elegance of a cold ice sculpture—”

As the topic shifted to the Prime Minister and the Empress, the atmosphere suddenly changed, with grown men gathered together talking as if discussing their first loves.

It seems their claim of “admiration” was truly no lie, judging by the atmosphere.

The conversation praising the beauty of the two continued on.

Until that baron’s son appeared.

With the two women who enjoy the most powerful authority any human could possess in history, one on each arm.

“…”

“…”

“…”

The Empress and the Prime Minister.

Those two.

Clinging to one man.

As if claiming ownership, determined not to let others take him away.

“…Your Majesty?”

“…Prime Minister?”

Such voices dropped one after another, in disbelief.

The group that had just been passionately expounding on the beauty and pure nobility of the Empress and Prime Minister seemed even more shocked.

The Empress, who always exuded a lofty atmosphere like an expressionless glass doll, now clung to the man’s arm with a flushed face.

The two women they had just been praising as overwhelmingly beautiful.

Both competing to cling to one man.

As if trying to curry his favor.

“…”

“…”

While the men’s expressions hardened with some indescribable sense of defeat…

“Are you all well, members of the Council of Elders.”

Into the silence where even the sound of someone swallowing dry saliva might thunder, the Empress’s voice, created through a voice synthesizer, gently resonated around them.

“I came because my ‘dear friend’ is making his social debut. No need for excessive formality, so please enjoy your evening.”

“…”

“…”

Dear what?

The surroundings filled with silence again at the statement that made one doubt their ears.

For an Empress of marriageable age to use the expression “dear friend” toward a man implied a great deal.

It was essentially the same as publicly announcing him as a “candidate for imperial consort.”

That was likely why a frost-like voice cut in.

“…Your Majesty.”

Sullivan, with an uncontrollable twitch in his cheek, spoke in a voice that seemed to be suppressing something.

“Please choose your words more carefully. I must ask.”

“Is there a problem, Sullivan?”

“This entire situation is the problem.”

To anyone watching, his demeanor clearly showed “vigilance.”

“I ‘marked’ him first, so such words are quite prone to misunderstanding.”

Shock spread through the surroundings again.

The Prime Minister too?

Marked him?

“…Hmm.”

Hearing those words, the Empress stroked her chin briefly.

“What kind of misunderstanding?”

“…”

“The meaning is exactly as you heard it, Sullivan. This man is my dear friend.”

As Sullivan’s expression rapidly hardened…

People around them began turning pale.

One thought was appearing in everyone’s mind.

The Empress and.

The Prime Minister.

Over one man.

‘…A competition?’

Without doubt.

This would be a topic that would turn the Empire’s social and political circles upside down.

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“…”

“…”

“…”

The stares flying at us without a single word being spoken are extremely burdensome.

Dilated pupils, mouths that won’t close, and some even slapping their own cheeks as if wondering if they’re dreaming.

All of them are nobles affiliated with the Council of Elders.

The intended goal of “establishing dominance” seems to be working exceedingly well.

The problem is…

“…Do you really have to do this?”

I first ask the Empress who has occupied my left arm.

Honestly, cold sweat is breaking out.

The way she’s holding my arm isn’t just embracing it—she’s practically hanging off it.

With her head even resting on my shoulder, we could easily be mistaken for a couple on a date.

“Weren’t you the one who suggested this first?”

“…”

“Why make such a fuss over this much? It’s your first ‘command’ to celebrate.”

“…”

I’m realizing anew.

This person seems to enjoy subtly teasing me and watching me feel uncomfortable.

“…Prime Minister. At least you…”

“No.”

“…”

I close my mouth again at the answer that comes back in less than a second.

Seeing how she’s glaring at the Empress with fire in her eyes even while answering, speaking further seems meaningless.

In truth, neither of them was at this level until we entered.

‘I just wanted to make a dignified entrance…’

Originally, I wanted the Empress and Prime Minister to enter first, and I would follow behind or stand beside them, positioning myself as “someone who knows both of them.”

At first, everyone was just walking side by side next to me.

It started with the Empress slightly taking my hand.

-…Your Majesty.

-What is it, Sullivan?

-What are you doing?

-My hands are cold. When one’s physical condition is like this, human warmth is desirable.

-…

Following that, the Prime Minister also took my hand, as if not wanting to lose.

The Empress went one step further by linking arms. The Prime Minister followed suit.

It gradually escalated until they were completely attached to me with no intention of letting go.

This is far from what I intended.

So much for dignity.

This is just…

[You’re a womanizer. Enchanting even heads of state.]

‘…Sir.’

[Try to refute that.]

‘…’

I have nothing to say.

While I keep my mouth shut after being defeated by Calivan, whispers begin to rise from around us.

“…Scum…”

“…Deserves execution…”

“…Crazy trash… cancer of the nation…”

“…”

What should I do?

I feel like I’m gaining enemies just by breathing.

“In truth, looking from the outside, they’re not entirely wrong.”

The Empress, seemingly aware of the atmosphere, spoke while exhaling smoke from the pipe she held in her mouth.

“Soon, someone might truly try to harm you.”

“…”

As I keep my mouth shut, the Empress continues with a grin.

“Don’t worry. I’ll protect you then. That way, I can completely capture your heart—”

The Empress stopped mid-sentence.

Probably because she felt what I was feeling too.

This aura flowing steadily from the opposite side of the Empress.

“…Sullivan. It’s a joke. There’s no need to emit such killing intent.”

“A joke, is it, Your Majesty?”

“…”

At the Empress’s lack of response, just grinning and exhaling smoke from her pipe again, Sullivan’s expression crumpled further.

I’m confused.

So confused.

Sweating profusely, I walk further into the banquet hall.

Directly to one table.

And inside…

“It is you indeed! I deserve to be your number one fan!”

Despite all this chaos…

Marquis Bogart was clapping without changing his expression at all.

“…”

He doesn’t even look surprised.

As if he had expected “this much” would happen.

“But with such distinguished guests present—”

Marquis Bogart’s eyes lingered on the Empress and Prime Minister in turn. Then toward me.

As if I were more important than these two.

“Right now, I have something I’d like to discuss with you alone. Could you possibly spare some time?”

“…”

“…”

At Marquis Bogart’s words, delivered with a wink, both Sullivan and the Empress’s expressions simultaneously turned serious.

They’re probably trying to figure out what his ulterior motive is.

“…Your Majesty. Prime Minister.”

I stop them first.

“It’s fine.”

I don’t know why.

But right now, I absolutely need to meet with this guy alone.

That’s the feeling I got.

That near-certainty was being conveyed through the way he looked at me.

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“Wow, this is surprising!”

As soon as we stepped out onto the terrace, those words flowed out first.

“When did you charm those two, Darwood Campbell! Truly terrifying—”

“…What did you want to talk about, Marquis Bogart.”

I cut off his attempt at cheerful conversation with those words.

I’m starting to feel it.

This guy—I’d heard that the Empress had been interested in me for some time.

But beyond that, something bothers me.

A strange sense of unease continues. As if he knows something that I don’t.

“Hahaha, isn’t it a bit cold to jump straight to the main point? Let’s chat about some trivial matters first—”

“…If you’re going to talk nonsense, I’m leaving.”

So.

If he won’t reveal his true intentions, he’s not worth dealing with.

I turn sharply to head back into the banquet hall. This is my strongest expression of firm intent.

But.

“…How is Armin doing?”

At those words.

My steps halt.

“…”

This guy.

What did he just say?

I look at Marquis Bogart, who spoke with a stiff expression.

Though this is only our second meeting, the grinning smile he had worn throughout our previous encounter had fallen from his face.

Instead, what hung on his face was a smile so benevolent.

As if recalling “pleasant memories.”

“…You.”

But.

Meeting that face, a chilling sensation runs down my spine.

A growling sound escapes me without my realizing it.

“Do you know my father?”

“Know him? Of course.”

Marquis Bogart grinned.

“How could I forget my dearest friend in the world.”

Such a sentence.

“We were rivals competing over one woman.”

Followed.

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