“It’s been a while, Madam.”
The man with a soft smile was Iel Eliom.
Goyo hadn’t heard that Rajin was coming, so perhaps he had come with someone else. She returned his greeting.
“It’s been a while, Lord Eliom.”
“Please, just call me ‘Eliom.’”
“All right.”
Still, what brings you here?
Though Goyo had seen him before at the Eliom estate and had a connection through Rajin, she and Iel had barely spoken twice. Feeling slightly awkward, she asked.
Standing a step away, Iel had a smile like his younger sister, but he didn’t evoke the same sense of comfort.
“The ballroom feels a bit cooler than expected. I thought you might need this. Or am I mistaken?”
“I was just starting to feel chilly, so thank you. But where did you get this?”
“My younger sister gets cold easily, so I’m used to bringing something warm. Though I didn’t come with her today. You don’t need to return it; consider it a small favor for a past debt.”
With that, I hope you enjoy the ball.
Whether the shawl was merely a response to the cold or there was another reason behind it, Iel disappeared as soon as Goyo took it.
Even if she considered whether it was out of some sense of obligation due to Rajin, there hadn’t been any significant trickery on Rajin’s part. Goyo felt a bit strange about the gesture.
‘The siblings are really alike.’
But since she had genuinely been cold, she wrapped the shawl around herself without hesitation. Feeling much warmer, Goyo’s expression relaxed slightly, and she turned her head to check on Annecy, wondering if his conversation had ended.
It seemed that the politicians had dispersed, and Annecy was now standing alone, looking in her direction. Though his expression wasn’t clear from afar, he seemed unoccupied enough that it might be fine to approach him.
Goyo began walking slowly toward Annecy. As soon as he saw her coming, Annecy started to move as well, but a woman in a provocative dress stepped in front of him.
Wasn’t she the young lady from Baron Pribi’s household? Goyo vaguely recalled her name as she recognized the proud face.
“Good evening, Marquis. If you have a moment, would you care for a dance with me?”
The distance wasn’t too great, so Goyo could clearly hear Lady Pribi’s invitation for a dance.
Though Goyo thought it would suit her husband more to be the one making the advances, the situation didn’t feel out of place.
Should I wait if they’re going to dance? Goyo was about to pause her steps, but Annecy declined the offer without hesitation. The young lady seemed slightly flustered but wasn’t ready to give up easily, asking for a dance once again.
Her persistence crossed the line into rudeness, but Annecy remained unperturbed, refusing once more without so much as raising an eyebrow. When Lady Pribi still didn’t back down, he finally said,
“I’m afraid I’ve broken my leg and can’t dance.”
Leaving the bewildered woman behind, Annecy, with his supposedly broken leg, strode over to Goyo. With a smug voice, he said,
“My body feels stiff from all the talking. Would you care to dance, Madam?”
“…Didn’t you just say your leg was broken?”
“It’s just healed.”
“I wonder if you have a talent for healing magic as well.”
“To be honest, it was a lie because I thought you might worry. I haven’t fully recovered yet.”
“Then how do you plan to dance?”
“Your husband is also skilled in pain-numbing magic.”
Speechless at his absurdity, Goyo watched as Annecy gallantly bowed and extended his hand. Over his shoulder, she could still see Lady Pribi standing with her mouth open, utterly bewildered, and the entire situation struck her as oddly comedic.
Sighing, Goyo took Annecy’s hand.
“Your passion for dancing is quite remarkable.”
“Please correct that to passion for my wife.”
As they waited for the next dance to begin, Annecy’s gaze subtly shifted toward Goyo’s shoulder.
Having finished his conversation with Duke Rubiette and come straight to find her, Annecy already knew who had given her the shawl. Iel Eliom, the elder brother of Rajin Eliom and the future Earl of Eliom. And…
‘As you said, his appearance is quite striking.’
Annecy’s eyes twitched slightly at the thought. It wasn’t a particularly remarkable statement, yet it bothered him more than he expected.
It wasn’t just the comment that was getting under his skin. The fact that Iel Eliom had been the one to give Goyo that shawl was what truly unsettled him. It left a faint sense of discomfort.
However, the shawl Kolabe had given him looked thinner than the one Iel had provided, so he had no real excuse to suggest swapping it out.
The truth was, all his feelings seemed odd and contradictory—whether it was wanting to cover her bare skin, feeling bothered by the shawl coming from Iel, or the general irritation simmering beneath the surface.
Annecy wasn’t one to meddle in other people’s affairs, yet this subtle irritation was bubbling up within him. He couldn’t fully understand his own emotions.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“It’s nothing, just…”
“Oh, the shawl? Lord Iel Eliom gave it to me. He said the ballroom was a bit chilly. Now that I think of it, I should take it off if we’re going to dance.”
“No need.”
‘It’s better than nothing.’
Annecy stopped Goyo’s hand as she reached to remove the shawl, using magic to secure it in place. Unless they started dancing a tango in the middle of a storm, the shawl wouldn’t budge.
“The ballroom is indeed a bit cold. I wouldn’t want you catching a cold.”
“Then I’ll keep it on.”
Annecy smiled, hiding the uneasy feeling in his chest. The next song started, and they began to move together.
* * *
There were many people dancing, but the two of them, with their striking appearances and outfits, naturally stood out more.
Terio Alte couldn’t even hide his rigid expression as he stood frozen, glaring at the center of the ballroom.
The swaying of Goyo’s dress as she moved, Annecy’s hand resting on her waist, and their occasional whispers and smiles were all too vividly etched into his view, filling him with a sense of displeasure.
The ballroom, which had felt cool earlier, now seemed oppressively hot. His neck was tense, stiff with the force of his anger.
It was too much for mere frustration over a friend making a foolish choice, yet Terio convinced himself that was all it was. He told himself that it was simply irritation and disappointment in a friend bewitched by a lowly man with nothing but a polished facade.
There was no need for him to watch this scene, yet Terio stood still, staring unblinking. Then the headache returned.
Wincing, he brought a hand to his head, his face twisting in pain.
The wretched headache was growing worse. What had started as a minor nuisance had become a heavy, intense throbbing, as if ants were crawling through his brain.
At its worst, it left him drenched in cold sweat, his hands shaking so violently he could barely hold a sword.
He had visited several temples in search of a cure, but all had been in vain. The pain only worsened.
And it wasn’t just the pain that had intensified. The nightmares that had come with the headaches had grown longer, more vivid, and occurred in a wider range of times and places.
Moreover, the nightmares had started to creep into his waking life. Terio Alte found himself haunted by visions and strange voices even while awake.
‘Today… come late…’
He wasn’t dreaming, yet unfamiliar hallucinations and fragmented voices danced across his vision and through his mind, leaving him breathless.
At first, he had been curious. Now, it was pure torment. Terio felt as though he was losing his mind.
‘I serve the master… for you…’
‘I will… to you…’
When the hallucinations attacked, all Terio could do was hope they would disappear quickly.
End. End already! He gritted his teeth, enduring the agony.
‘Give it back… please… give it back, please…’
After what felt like an eternity, the hallucination ended, and the overwhelming assault on his mind finally subsided.
Pale and trembling, Terio straightened his hunched posture, teeth clenched. His legs wobbled beneath him, but a nearby figure, Melissy, rushed forward to support him.
As Terio’s symptoms had become more frequent, his fiancée, Melissy, had grown vaguely aware of his headaches and the visions he suffered. Looking at him with concern, she asked,
“Are you all right, Lord Terio?”
“Thank you. Yes… I’m fine, Elly.”
“…Pardon?”
Hearing the confused voice in response, Terio realized he had said the wrong name.
*Elly*—a name he didn’t even know. Why had it come out so suddenly? Even he was startled by his own words, and he hurriedly shook his head.
“Oh, what did I just say? Sorry, Melissy. I must be feeling worse than I thought.”
“Oh… no, it’s all right.”
Melissy forced a smile, but her eyes didn’t reflect it. There was a faint trace of contempt in her cold blue gaze.
‘Surely he’s not seeing someone else at this point… although, with this garbage, it wouldn’t surprise me.’
At that moment, the music stopped, and the dance ended. As people’s attention scattered, Terio slipped out to the terrace to hide the fact that he wasn’t feeling well.
Melissy considered following him but decided against it.
After all, with their engagement announcement scheduled at this royal event, even someone like Terio Alte couldn’t back out now. And once she became *Melissy Alte*, it wouldn’t matter how many women he saw or how many affairs he had.
With her interest in Terio fading, Melissy’s gaze drifted elsewhere.
She spotted a beautiful woman, laughing and chatting with her husband—her sister, looking even more radiant than usual.
After hesitating for a moment, Melissy took a gulp of champagne and made her way over.
* * *
Taking the wine Annecy handed her, Goyo took a deep breath, feeling the heat rise in her body. Moving around had quickly warmed her, though it had seemed so cold earlier.
The shawl she had worn throughout the dance now felt stifling, and as soon as Goyo removed it, Annecy promptly offered her another one.
“It’s not that I didn’t like the shawl.”
“This one’s lighter. You’re only warm because of the dancing; you’ll feel the chill again soon.”
“That’s true.”
Goyo nodded and draped the new shawl over her shoulders.
“Is it a trend now for men to carry women’s shawls?”
“Sorry?”
“Come to think of it, there’s no real reason for you to have brought this.”
“Well… Kolabe Perroto brought it, actually. He planned to use it as a tool for flirting, but I took it from him because I thought you might get cold.”
Mixing truth with a touch of falsehood to mock Kolabe, Annecy’s explanation was enough to satisfy his wife. The mild suspicion and misunderstanding were dispelled with ease.
At that moment, they sensed someone approaching hesitantly. Annecy turned his head, and Goyo followed.
Their eyes met with a young woman’s, and as if shocked by an electric current, the girl’s shoulders flinched. With a visibly nervous expression, Melissy cautiously spoke.
“Goyo, it’s been a while.”
“It has been, Melissy.”
Although it had only been a few months since they last saw each other, Melissy Rubiette appeared much thinner than Goyo remembered.
She was likely paying more attention to her figure, given the upcoming engagement and wedding, but Goyo couldn’t help but notice that Melissy, who was supposed to be marrying the man she loved, didn’t seem particularly happy.
“I thought you might be here. How have you been?”
“Oh, yes. I’ve been well…”
Melissy greeted Annecy as well, then hesitated before asking.
“I’d like to speak with you for a moment. Would it be possible for me to have some time with my sister?”
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