#56
While repeating to herself multiple times that she would be fine.
Swallowing the lingering taste of saliva and blood in her mouth together, she smiled again.
With her nerves on edge, she refined all her senses into a single expression.
In the distance, she could see a group secretly gesturing toward her.
Figures dressed in black.
Strangely covered hoods, uniform movements.
Isabella naturally blurred her gaze to look at them.
The clan her master belonged to. Those who always steadfastly supported her had arrived to celebrate the awakening ceremony.
They didn’t move in noble form.
However, they were unconditionally on Isabella’s side.
Their appearance disguised as ballroom congratulations was a kind of signal.
Isabella drew a beautiful smile on her lips.
It was a perfect smile refined even to her pupils.
Having finished preparing to draw everyone’s gaze again, she lightly nodded as if nothing had happened.
As if nothing had happened, acting perfectly.
Her world is completed through acting.
Hide sincerity, reveal only intentions, obtain only results.
Not knowing that Marcus, who was no different from Theodore’s eyes, was watching her with interest.
* * *
Marcus was moving quietly on one side of the ballroom.
His steps continued slowly, yet very calculatedly.
Following the marble floor where golden candlelight gently flickered, he moved his steps elegantly wearing a blue uniform with sky-blue silk subtly reflecting.
The gazes around him were naturally drawn to him, but Marcus skillfully let those gazes flow past as always.
He looked like the product of perfect balance that noble society pursued—kind enough not to be rude, present enough not to be burdensome.
Even after Ersen collapsed, the nobles were still unsettled, but on the surface they maintained courtesy as if nothing had happened.
Under the splendid chandelier, the performance quietly continued, and champagne placed on silver trays began circulating again.
The sound of dress hems brushing the floor, the lingering scent of bouquet perfume, and people’s conversations never ceased amid the gestures of tilting glasses.
However, all this ‘normal daily life’ looked like mere theater to Marcus’s eyes.
The most skilled supporting actors of that theater were still murmuring with smiles on their faces.
“Still, how composed His Highness the Crown Prince was.”
“Do you remember how he held his brother?”
“Was that… were they closer than we thought?”
Now he was moving to subtly cover up Ersen’s accident with new rumors.
The confusion had to settle.
Before any official announcement came out, all rumors had to be guided in some direction, and today that role was his.
Marcus was the shadow conducting all these flows.
He naturally spoke to several noble ladies and young nobles.
He never speaks first.
He precisely captures the timing when the other party becomes curious and naturally creates an opening.
When he approached, the noble lady’s gaze sparkled with welcome and slight tension.
Marcus read that expression and opened the conversation in an appropriate tone.
“You must have been very surprised, my lady?”
His tone was gentle, and his voice was appropriately low, giving a sense of trust.
The noble lady flinched and nodded.
“Young Master Naha. What happened to His Highness the Prince?”
It was an attitude of asking while already knowing everything.
Not to confirm rumors, but words of testing to see ‘who would organize it how.’
Marcus grasped even that subtle intention and smiled slightly.
“He’s originally weak in constitution, so sometimes his condition worsens like this. He’s someone who usually tries not to overexert himself.”
The answer was polite, but it wasn’t merely an excuse.
Rather, it was a clever narration that added human color to Ersen’s existence, changing it to an image of someone weak but trying hard.
Though the words flowed smoothly, they contained solid direction.
He was converting the scene of ‘vomiting blood’ into ‘weakness,’ and the scene of ‘the Crown Prince directly carrying him out’ into ‘brotherly affection.’
Since people’s memories are always imprinted when combined with emotions, the current sentiment was very important.
For Ersen, it gave only the impression of being sickly to add humanity, while also emphasizing his intimate relationship with the Crown Prince.
The fact that the Crown Prince had directly carried him out was an undeniable fact.
That scene had already been witnessed by dozens of nobles, and that fact was being inflated.
Marcus completely turned that flow to his advantage.
Affectionate brothers, and a younger brother who needed care.
That frame would soon justify the Crown Prince’s choice and serve to control threats toward Ersen.
It wasn’t for Ersen’s sake.
He wasn’t originally the type to mix emotions into his work.
Helping Ersen, protecting him—all of it was for efficiency’s sake.
Because it was good for them.
Those ‘them’ included Theodore, Skyle, and even Marcus’s own family.
The point that Ersen was a resource that could be used for the time being was beneficial to everyone.
No matter how they treated Ersen going forward, the fact that they had to be with him wouldn’t change.
Ersen was someone who couldn’t be discarded.
Even if abandoned, he would survive, and as long as he survived, he would continue to be nearby.
If so, it was better to embrace him.
‘Until all the curses are lifted.’
Just thinking about it made his heart sink strangely.
That night, the scene of Ersen staggering and vomiting blood kept coming to mind.
Though he had some guesses, he couldn’t yet reach a precise conclusion.
The noble lady listening to Marcus whispered.
She lowered her voice, but clearly spoke to be heard.
“Still, seeing His Highness the Crown Prince personally taking care of him, the two must be quite close.”
It was a tone mixed with jealousy and curiosity.
She had probably already had such conversations with other nobles several times.
And now she was trying to see Marcus’s reaction.
“His Highness the Crown Prince is particularly affectionate. As long as legal procedures are followed, he’s someone who values family safety above anyone else.”
This answer was correct.
Exactly that tone, that sentence she wanted to hear.
The noble lady nodded satisfactorily, already knowing how to follow the flow without belonging to either side.
“Ah……!”
It flowed out briefly like a breathless exclamation.
Marcus didn’t draw out her reaction further and concluded with a smile, leaving subtle lingering feelings.
Just fulfilling his duty, but not entirely unfriendly either.
Everyone picked out only what they wanted to hear from that line that enabled dual interpretation.
Marcus maintained his smile and finished the conversation to that extent, then turned his gaze again.
The moment he turned his body away from where people were and faced forward, his gaze cooled coldly.
From now on, it was time for an emotionless evaluator.
‘Trying to do social activities that aren’t in my nature is frustratingly maddening.’
He slowly brushed his hand along the side seam of his pants.
Social tone, formalities, expression acting didn’t suit him.
However, he did it because it was necessary.
That was Marcus’s way.
At the end of where his gaze directed, his other tasks were gathered together.
A place slightly away from the center of the ballroom.
Isabella Marsien was surrounded by nobles, sitting like a perfect doll as always.
Her expression was calm, and her posture remained undisturbed.
However, Marcus could feel it.
The grain of desperate effort trembling minutely like a pulse beneath her lips.
For someone who had just collapsed in front of others, Isabella Marsien was mingling with surrounding nobles in a perfectly composed posture as if nothing had happened.
And among the nobles mingling with her were half-demons.
The relationship between nobles and half-demons, who should be like water and oil, looked so good that Marcus was momentarily speechless.
He slowly raised his wine glass.
And while pretending to drink, he didn’t remove his gaze from that direction.
Capturing this entire situation with his own eyes was his duty. Theodore would set up the board based on this.
Music continued to flow and people’s conversations continued, but that was now merely the shell of this place.
The real movement was happening around Isabella and her surroundings.
How much time had passed?
Isabella Marsien and the leader of the half-demon group quietly exchanged glances and disappeared to a terrace on one side of the ballroom.
Marcus’s eyes lit up.
* * *
“I greet the young lady. Have you been well?”
After carefully closing the door, Rico bowed deeply and greeted her.
His red pupils contained a mixture of politeness and wariness as always, and his gestures subtly concealed all those intentions.
Isabella Marsien, standing before him, lightly placed one hand on the marble railing of the terrace and turned around with moonlight seeping into her face.
“As you can see, I’m enjoying myself.”
Isabella’s smile didn’t laugh with her eyes.
Her thin lips curved smoothly, but neither displeasure nor tension was contained within.
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
