Chapter 41
Chapter 41: At the Ballroom
The next song was about to start, so I helped Olivia to her feet and told her to quickly find a partner and go dance.
Everything seemed fine except for my right hand, which was trembling uncontrollably.
I wasn’t used to handling pain without any form of relief. Usually, I would dull the sensation with opium or something equally potent. This raw, unfiltered pain was something I had no tolerance for.
Though to call myself entirely sober would be a bit of a stretch—there was a faint buzz of alcohol in my system. But I wasn’t drunk, so perhaps I could still consider myself clear-headed.
Annoyed at the woman sprawled on the floor, I gave her a careless kick. She didn’t even react, so I stopped.
The women who usually followed her around like shadows froze in place, too afraid to act. One particularly loyal one seemed to have run off to fetch someone.
“Haah, how exhausting.”
I swept a hand across my face, walked over to a chair by the wall, and sat down.
Then, as if someone had reported the incident, guards in resplendent uniforms arrived.
Quietly, so as not to disturb the ballroom, they escorted me to a discreet corner.
I was picking out the shards of glass embedded in my right hand one by one and discarding them on the floor when one of the guards frowned and removed his hat. In a tone laced with authority, he questioned me.
“People say you struck that woman on the head. Is that true?”
Was his confidence drawn from the grandeur of his uniform or the weapon he carried?
Either way, it didn’t matter to me.
“Yes,” I replied indifferently.
At my calm response, his expression twisted slightly as he lowered his voice.
“…May I ask what happened?”
Nothing much had occurred, really. Just a minor dispute, and an unfortunate slip of my hand, which happened to be holding a wine glass.
“We exchanged some words, and a small scuffle broke out when I saw her harassing my friend.”
“Where is your friend now?”
“She’s dancing with a dashing gentleman. If you want to ruin this lively ball, you can interrogate the most beautiful blonde woman on the floor over there.”
Others were tending to the fallen woman, pulling glass shards from her head and treating her wounds. Why was this man so fixated on me instead of assisting her?
Was he a new recruit?
“Don’t ruin the mood here. Go back to where you’re supposed to be. Guards exist to protect His Imperial Majesty, not to meddle in petty disputes among women,” I said dismissively.
He frowned deeper at my words and spoke in a tone that bordered on threatening.
“If you think being a noblewoman means I can’t arrest you, you’re mistaken. This is a serious incident—it happened in the imperial palace, after all.”
“Then can you actually arrest me? I’m not some lowly woman like the fool lying over there,” I said, gesturing toward the woman now being bandaged.
I approached her, placed an arm around her shoulders, and sat beside her. She had regained consciousness and looked at me with wide, terrified eyes.
Crossing my legs, I tilted my chin upward, wearing an expression that practically oozed arrogance.
Well, I was being arrogant.
“Are you okay? My hand slipped a little earlier, but I’m sure you’ll forgive me, right? Otherwise, this scary soldier might take me away,” I said.
The woman nodded. More accurately, I grabbed her by the hair and made her nod.
Not much difference, really.
“See? She says it’s fine. Now, what excuse will you use to drag me off this time? There’s nothing to make a fuss over here.”
I spread my hands as if daring him to slap handcuffs on me. He sighed and put his cuffs away.
Even if they arrested me, it would lead to a tangled mess. I wasn’t a citizen of this kingdom but a subject of the duchy, making the jurisdiction ambiguous.
It wasn’t that he understood this complexity and gave up; he simply didn’t have the power to do anything about it.
“You nobles, always so selfish and oppressive. Are you all like this?” he muttered disdainfully.
“Unfortunately, I’m only half as bad as most nobles. If you think I’m bad, the others are twice as much,” I retorted with a smirk. “And you’re not much better.”
He frowned, clearly irritated.
“I don’t understand what you’re implying—”
I showed him my injured right hand, and he fell silent.
“What, do you think I’m an easy target too?”
His confused expression made it clear he had no idea who I was.
Ah, so he was a new recruit. Probably a commoner as well.
If that’s the case, then this whole incident doesn’t really matter.
The other guards, who had been whispering among themselves, eventually pulled him away, covering his mouth and dragging him off. A guard with a kinder demeanor apologized to me and led the group elsewhere.
If I stayed here much longer, Olivia would undoubtedly come looking for me after this song—or maybe when the ball ended.
I didn’t want to see her again, so I decided to head to the tea room where the Duchess was staying.
Looking back, the shards of broken glass and the chaotic scene had disappeared, leaving only the clean, polished floor reflecting the light.
On the third floor, which overlooked the ballroom, I wandered through the tea room filled with ornate tables and trays of refreshments, searching for the Duchess.
A servant, alarmed by the blood dripping from my right hand, approached me, offering to call a physician. I politely declined.
The wound would heal on its own with time.
I finally found the Duchess at the far end of the room, chatting and laughing with other noblewomen.
It was the first time I’d seen her look so genuinely joyful.
When she was with Eileen, Libian, or her eldest son, she smiled tenderly, as though her heart was full. But this lively, carefree joy? That was new.
When alone, she always had the look of someone drowning in melancholy—a troubled soul.
It felt like I was seeing someone else entirely, a version of her so vibrant and happy it seemed alien.
I entered the room, greeted the unfamiliar noblewomen with a polite bow, and approached the Duchess.
The joy drained from her face, replaced by exhaustion, boredom, and a touch of despair.
“Marisela, why have you come here so suddenly? Did some man try to harm you? The ball is far from over, so don’t let such people bother you. Or would you like me to introduce you to someone?”
“No one harmed me, though someone did try to arrest me. But it’s nothing to worry about,” I said, shaking my head.
The people the Duchess would introduce me to likely resembled her in ways I’d rather avoid.
A cheerful yet slightly somber dance tune played in the background—the seventh song of the evening.
While the Duchess continued to talk, I barely listened, watching the dancers below.
They were beautiful.
Even though I wore the same clothes and adorned myself like them, I could never move as gracefully as they did.
The other guests in the tea room stared at me curiously, and I met their gaze, lifting my injured hand for the Duchess to see.
Her eyes widened in shock as she hurried toward me.
“I’m a little injured. Would it be alright if I returned to the estate early?” I asked.
“W-Why so suddenly? How did you get hurt? I-I’ll call for a physician immediately!” the Duchess stammered, her concern almost frantic.
I gently pushed her away, careful not to stain her elaborate gown with my blood.
After bidding farewell to the other women in the room, I left the tea room.
The Duchess followed me, her worry evident.
It was burdensome, yes, but more than that, it felt insincere—disgusting, even.
“You don’t actually care whether I’m hurt or not, do you?” I said.
Her face froze, as if my words had struck a nerve.
“I’ll ask Raphael, or perhaps one of our knights, to take me to the estate’s physician. Please enjoy your time with your friends. I apologize for interrupting,” I added before descending the stairs.
She remained standing there, watching me, stunned.
My right hand throbbed painfully as I stepped outside.
Removing my tight, uncomfortable shoes, I pressed my bare feet against the ground.
I laughed like a madwoman, the sound almost nonsensical, and made my way toward where the knights were gathered.
Raphael spotted me and rushed over, looking flustered.
But his concern didn’t move me.
Not in the slightest.