118 — 12 (9)

Meanwhile, there were others besides Louis who were surrounded by the opposite sex—and one of them was Batenberg Linsia. Linsia still wore her glossy red hair, her curving figure, and a face that looked as if it had been painted with a brush, all while smiling. This time, she had steeled herself with a firm resolve that she would finally become close to Louis.

Everyone who struck up conversation with Linsia was a tall, neat-looking holy knight. Bees naturally swarmed to a beautiful flower; Linsia’s dazzling outfit—prepared with care—was seductive enough to tempt even knights with high standards. Yet her heart was growing unbearably impatient. The man she truly wanted had exchanged only a brief greeting earlier, and now he was surrounded by flirtatious priestesses wagging their tails at him.

“Beautiful lady. Would you honor me with a dance?”

“I’m sorry. My ankle hurts a little. I’m fine without dancing.”

Avan Keil—a knight blessed with a handsome face and great height, who had never been rejected by a woman—was refused firmly for the first time since joining the Holy Knight Order. His innocent eyes widened. Even with Avan Keil right in front of her, Linsia was stealing glances at someone else.

‘Those…!’

Avan Keil followed her gaze. There was Louis, surrounded by priestesses. With requests coming from all sides, Louis kept hugging the priestesses and receiving blessings in quick succession. Only then did Avan Keil understand who held Linsia’s heart.

‘So in this place, even I am not the protagonist. Well, he’s drawing everyone’s attention—from His Holiness to the commander. There are so many people here, yet most of them are conscious of a single duke. Even those of the same rank.’

Avan Keil, too, was born with the backing of a distinguished house, yet he could not help being jealous of Louis. He himself was a half-blood bastard; in the end he could not build any real faction, and under pressure from those around him, he had ended up attaching himself to the Papal Court.

‘If only… if back then I’d made the same choice as Louis… at least I might not have had this regret.’

That long-buried feeling was being pried open by Louis, yet it did not feel entirely bad. Some envied Louis, but others found vicarious satisfaction in watching him, even in the same situation.

“Forgive my impertinence, but it seems… Lady Linsia has feelings for Duke Louis.”

“………Pardon?”

Linsia’s face flushed at once. She did not answer, but her face answered for her.

“Well… I—”

“He is a fine man. I’m seeing him for the first time myself, but there are few talents like him in the world.”

Hearing even Avan Keil say that made Linsia more impatient. Until now, no matter what man it was, if she had exchanged this much greeting, there had never been one who did not seek her out afterward. For Linsia, this was the first time she had faced a situation like this. She sighed without realizing it—and Avan Keil heard it.

“It must be difficult to speak to him. Shall I help you a little? Come—let us go.”

Avan Keil naturally offered his hand. Linsia, after finishing a brief thought—If it weren’t for Louis, she might have had some kind of fate with this man—hesitated, then took his hand. Led by Avan Keil, Linsia approached Louis, who was surrounded by priestesses. Other noblewomen, who had also been watching for their chance, stamped their feet in frustration, afraid of losing the initiative.

All the same, Avan Keil deftly herded the priestesses aside, and in that opening Linsia pushed through and appeared before Louis. Louis looked straight at her. Linsia was still beautiful. Not only was her birth equal to Louis’s, her looks were outstanding as well. The female slaves Louis had received as gifts were all beauties too, yet none were prettier than Linsia.

“Lady, it is good to see you.”

Louis took her well-groomed hand and kissed it briefly. For the first time since arriving at the party, she wore a satisfied expression. She wanted to talk with Louis, but the moment she stood before him, her words caught in her throat. When Louis met her eyes head-on, her heart felt as if it might burst.

Louis waited a little longer. She seemed quieter than she looked. She was beautiful—seen up close, it moved him even more. Louis spoke.

“Shall we dance one song?”

He was tired of being surrounded by priestesses, and dancing one song with a beautiful woman did not seem like a bad idea. As if she had finally heard the answer she had been waiting for, she nodded quickly. Considering Linsia’s usual temperament, she would have refused once or twice—but Louis was an exception.

Louis offered his hand; with a pounding heart, she took it. And Louis began leading her toward the center of the hall. Even now, a few couples were dancing.

Nobles sipping wine, holy knights relaxing and chatting after easing the tension of sacred ground, women who had been casting heated gazes at Louis—even the marquises of each house—smiled as they watched Louis walk to the center with Linsia.

The most watched man in the room was about to dance with the most beautiful woman, and people everywhere observed with interest. The languid song ended. The musicians who had been playing immediately grasped the situation when Louis approached. They needed a new song—and it needed to be played very well. For the performers, this moment was likely the most important of the entire night.

A musician looked to Louis for a cue. Louis said nothing; he gently held her hand and drew her in. She pressed close to him as if helplessly. Linsia, cheeks flushed, looked up at Louis with effort. Louis knew well what kind of woman she was, so her reaction amused him. The musicians nodded to one another, and the performance began. A new piece—moderate tempo at the start, favored by young lovers, growing hotter toward the end—music that depicted the push and pull between man and woman. Any noble would know it, and because it carried a certain romance, smiles formed across the room.

And so Louis began to lead Linsia. As the song flowed a little, Louis sensed her tension and whispered into her ear.

“It’s fine if you make mistakes. Relax. Isn’t that, in its own way, charming?”

At Louis’s words, her face melted. The tempo began to quicken. Louis turned her and pulled her in—smoothly. Admiring murmurs rose around them. Only then did she seem to fully relax. Clinging to Louis, she burst into laughter. With an expression like she had tasted sweet honey, Linsia spun along with Louis’s lead, then was pulled back into his arms again and again.

Men and women alike all watched Louis and Linsia with syrupy smiles.

The fast tempo passed, and Linsia—laughing whenever Louis teased her during each turn—ended the piece in Louis’s embrace. Her mind was likely tasting the best feeling of her entire life so far. There had been a few couples dancing, but near the end they all stepped away to watch Louis and Linsia, and there was no one left in the center hall but the two of them. When the dance ended, in the quiet, she panted softly for breath.

Silence—and then applause erupted. Linsia still looked dazed.

“Y-you’re… really good.”

Amid the clapping, she murmured to Louis. Only then did Louis realize she had fallen for him completely. Her expression had softened that much.

‘Even prettier now.’

The pope, and the marquises and counts who had been lined up to receive the pope’s blessing, were all looking at Louis.

“Splendid. This is how it should be between a man and a woman.”

The pope looked like a man who had seen something good. And just as Louis and Linsia’s relationship seemed to advance, some knights—whose stomachs ached at watching Louis receive yet more admiration—gulped down liquor and spoke to Commander Evantes.

“Commander Evantes. If you mean to speak, you must do it now. Everyone here is gradually becoming Louis’s ally. Even if he committed something impure, if the scale tips further, no one will accept our words.”

“That is right, Commander. Even when I investigated separately, I did not sense holy power. If it truly were a miracle, it should be saturated with traces of holy power. If what moves it is magic power, then I believe it is right to press Duke Louis.”

“Make the decision.”

Evantes, who had been reminded of his first love from twenty years ago while watching Louis, thought that if he let this continue, he would not be able to say a single word to Louis. Personally, Louis was a favorable figure—but his position demanded that he separate public duty and private feeling. The Holy Knight Order’s purpose was to root out impurity, and it held the authority to act independently even against the pope’s sentiments. If Louis had used an unclean power to step outside the bounds of cause and effect, then Louis had to be subjected to a religious trial. That was how mighty the Holy Knight Order’s power was. In the world, those not under the Papal Court’s influence were few enough to count on one hand.

‘Mm. I should press him before it becomes any later.’

Being commander meant possessing the thick skin to disregard the surrounding mood. Evantes, too, had found it impressive—but the Hanging Gardens were suspicious. In the end, he moved. The knights who disliked the atmosphere wore delighted expressions and surged after Evantes. Dozens of them. Even those holy knights who had been laughing merrily while watching others maintain their swords sensed that their commander had made some grim decision.

When Evantes finally arrived, he looked Louis squarely in the face and said,

“Duke Louis, forgive the discourtesy. If not now, I believe I will have no opportunity to speak to you, so I ask you this.”

“………….”

The air turned cold. Evantes’s tremendous mana began to weigh down the surroundings.

“As for the ‘miracle’ building His Holiness has acknowledged, I, Commander Evantes of the Holy Knight Order, cannot accept it. Nowhere did I sense holy power—only magic power filled it, though I do acknowledge that some unknown force, whose source cannot be explained, is at work.”

‘Here it comes… the commander’s overwhelming pressure. Is he planning a religious trial…? My God, here? In this place? Insane…’

Knight Avan Keil gaped as the tension around them tightened in an instant. Normally, those crushed by this aura could not keep their senses. That was because the commander’s “overwhelm” was a special aura mixing mana and holy power, and its original purpose was confession. Liars inevitably showed peculiar symptoms; in severe cases they collapsed on the spot or could not even breathe. This power was near the commander’s maximum. And yet… Avan Keil could not believe what he was seeing.

From Louis—standing without even a guard warrior between them—an aura of a kind they had never seen began to pour out. Even with the vast mana of a Sword Expert, one should eventually be overwhelmed by Evantes, but Louis’s presence was not merely that.

As the messages flashed one after another, Louis stared at Evantes with calm eyes. So he would not approve it as it was… that was it. Of course—things had flowed too smoothly. The chance of Louis’s secret being exposed was close to zero unless he spat it out himself. Truly, Evantes was a commander infamous for a reason. Louis had not expected him to wield an aura that induced status ailments.

‘If he were facing an ordinary person, they would have no choice but to spill their secrets… a terrifying ability.’

The atmosphere did not merely cool—it threw sparks. Aura and aura collided, and Louis’s guard warriors were rushing in. But each holy knight was, at minimum, a Sword Expert. Even if Mihoff and Anok helped, it would be difficult to overturn this mood—yet strangely, Louis was not affected at all.

The holy knights stared at Louis in shock (even if the target were a Sword Master, at the very least they should be sweating cold), and naturally Evantes’s face hardened as well. He, too, had never in his life seen someone so calm—no, someone who was not only unaffected, but who counterattacked with an aura. Louis’s trait—Military Charisma transformed into Intimidation—combined with more than a hundred mana, was crushing down on Evantes, who had been judged as an opposing enemy.

This sudden development threw the nobles into dilemma. If they left it as it was, the mood could flow into something bizarre where Louis might face a religious trial. If they helped and things went wrong, their own houses could be dragged down with him. Yet despite that profit-and-loss calculation, Parse Akiteia walked calmly toward Louis’s side. Even though her father was watching and had not signaled her, she was acting on her own.

Watching that, Batenberg Blancfor fell into a pause—hesitation. But his older brother Mesond, having seemingly completed his calculation in that brief moment, gave his collar a big tug and strode forward.

Akiteia, approaching first, realized that merely walking closer was agony. Cold sweat poured down, her heart began to pound madly, and she felt as if she might collapse. It was puzzling that Louis—receiving this aura head-on—could stand so calmly. But she kept walking. The fortunate thing was that once she entered the area where Louis’s aura flowed, Evantes’s mana, which had been choking her breath, scattered. It was astonishing. And unconsciously, she thought her decision had been right. When she finally reached Louis’s side, wiped her sweat once, and was about to speak to Evantes—

Evantes glared at Akiteia and said,

“You—who are you?”

“I am Parse Akiteia of House Parse—Duke Louis’s friend, and an allied house. I understand Sir Evantes’s doubts, but he has committed no impure act. If no evidence is found against Duke Louis, then Sir Evantes, as a representative of the Papal Court, must apologize to Duke Louis.”

It was a bold statement. In one sense it was what should be said, but it was not something anyone could speak lightly. The opponent was the Holy Papal Court—and Commander Evantes of the Holy Knight Order. Louis looked at Akiteia, surprised. It was help he had not expected. Louis had never once received anyone’s help when he was in trouble. He had only fought his way out; if he had waited for help, his neck would have been cut long before he ever reached this position.

The one still walking forward went through the same ordeal and came to stand beside Louis. It was Batenberg Mesond. Louis knew who he was, since they had exchanged greetings earlier. Mesond’s statement was the same in spirit.

“I am Batenberg Mesond of House Batenberg in the Duchy of Eron. As an allied house of House Pontina, I judge that he is being treated unjustly.”