CHAPTER 72: THE GRAND BALL (2)

The orchestra’s tune shifted.

A deep roll of drums silenced the chatter as every noble turned toward the grand staircase at the end of the hall.

Trumpets followed, clear, regal, and impossibly loud.

"The royal family has arrived!" the herald declared.

Justinian straightened his posture, hand resting calmly behind his back as his mind began to calculate a dozen scenarios at once.

This was the first time he would meet King Arthur Renillus, not the vague, idealized monarch from the novel, but the real one.

Gold and scarlet poured down the staircase as the royal family descended — the king at the lead, his expression as cold as sculpted marble.

Behind him walked the queen, every step deliberate, eyes sharp and appraising. The two princes followed, one bored, one curious, and a single princess whose smile seemed both genuine and dangerous.

The king’s presence alone was enough to bend the atmosphere. Conversations died. Even Valen and Elira, who moments ago were trading witty remarks, bowed their heads slightly.

Justinian mimicked them, offering a respectful nod, not too deep, not too casual. A historian knew the power of presentation.

"Raise your heads," the king spoke. His voice wasn’t loud, but it carried like thunder through the hall.

"I’ve heard much about the Duke of Snowkeep."

The king’s gaze landed on him.

Justinian stepped forward, his crimson coat gleaming under the chandeliers.

"Your Majesty," he greeted, bowing slightly. "It is an honor to stand before you."

"I should hope so," the king replied, expression unreadable. "The man who rebuilt a duchy in weeks and turned a rebellion into prosperity... tell me, Duke Thirell, how does one achieve such miracles?"

The king smiled, vainly visible as he clutched his regal scepter, its diamond glowing faintly at Justinian’s approach, which made him smile even more.

A hundred eyes turned to him.

This was the test, the first of many.

"I only did what was necessary," Justinian answered with careful calm. "When a house burns, one does not pray for rain; they pick up a bucket."

A pause. Then, faintly, the queen smiled.

The king leaned back, intrigued. "Even if that same man was the one who burned his house in the first place?"

Justinian kept his tone steady. "I was unfortunately preoccupied; my traitorous vassals and nobles were all controlling me, and as you all already know, I broke free from that."

That earned a murmur from the crowd. Some nobles exchanged worried glances; even mentioning that you were tricked by your own men so casually in front of the king was bold.

But the king merely chuckled. "But it seems like you’ve fixed your past mistake... so I will grant you mercy for now."

He moved past him, the royal entourage following, leaving a trail of whispers in their wake.

Justinian exhaled silently.

’So that’s the king... No wonder Julius struggled to outplay him.’

*** Later That Night ***

The ball was in full swing again, nobles laughing and scheming beneath chandeliers. Justinian stood near the balcony, looking down at the endless lights of the capital.

[Quest Updated: Gain Favor of the Royal Court]

[Failure Penalty: Natural Disaster (Herdin)]

He chuckled softly. "Is this stage two of my quest then?"

[Reward: Fortune] - Throughout the ball, you are blessed by the goddess of luck.

’That’s vague... but once again, useful.’

"You seem lost in thought, Duke Thirell."

The voice came from beside him, calm, melodic, yet carrying authority.

It was the princess, her dress glimmering faintly like midnight snow. Julius’ main love interest, the main heroine of the novel.

Maria Renillus.

"Your Highness," Justinian greeted, offering a polite nod. "Just admiring the capital."

"Most newcomers do," she said. "But I think you’re not like most. You’re tenser than a man who is about to go into war."

The faint scent of jasmine followed her as she stepped closer, soft enough to make him wonder if even that was deliberate.

He blinked, surprised. "You could say that."

She smiled faintly. "I assure you no danger will come to you; the security within the capital is far better than you think."

She boasted, taking a dramatic pose with her hand on her chest, closing her eyes, and puffing out her face to show that it was her idea to strengthen the capital’s defenses.

Then her gaze drifted toward the hall, quickly recovering from her antics. "Tell me, Duke, what do you see when you look at our kingdom?"

He hesitated. "Prosperous, held together with one of the most skilled groups of people I could even think of."

Justinian replied, using his knowledge of the novel to help his answer; he knew everything that was about to come and all the ruin and chaos that would be brought upon in the future.

One that Justinian planned to stop and take advantage of.

"But... I also have a feeling it won’t last."

Her expression didn’t change, but something in her eyes sharpened. "Then perhaps we share the same concern."

Before he could respond, she curtsied lightly and began to walk away.

"Welcome to the capital, Duke Thirell," she said without turning back. "I hope you enjoy your time in the spotlight."

And then she was gone, swallowed by the crowd.

Justinian stared after her, a quiet smile forming.

’Now that... felt like a flag trigger.’

The orchestra played louder, and the night continued, but the real game had only just begun.

"Elira and Valen... I wonder where they went..."

*** Royal Palace - Balcony Overlook: A Few Minutes Later ***

The moon hung high over the capital, silver light bleeding into the marble courtyards below. From up here, Justinian could see everything: the laughter, the masks, the dancers twirling under chandeliers as if the world beyond the palace walls didn’t exist.

Justinian was planning his approach; he didn’t want to waltz around the entire party and go with the flow like before.

’A few minutes of the guest star disappearing won’t be much of a problem, well... I hope at least,’ he thought, smiling.

"Still brooding, Duke Thirell?"

He turned slightly. Valen was leaning against the balcony railing a few feet away, a glass of amber wine in his hand. The man had discarded his earlier politeness; his cloak was draped lazily over one shoulder, and the faint smirk on his face said he’d seen everything.

"I was wondering if I should start calling you a prophet as well," Valen continued. "You’ve already caught the king’s eye... and now the princess herself. Impressive."

"Or dangerous," Justinian replied.

Valen chuckled. "That too."

He took a sip of his drink, his eyes still fixed on the ballroom below. "Word travels fast in this place. You’ve already made enemies; a few dukes think you’re the king’s next favorite."

"That was fast."

"Speed is the one thing the court never lacks."

A faint breeze passed between them. For a moment, neither spoke. The music from the ballroom softened into a slow waltz, the kind of rhythm that masked whispers and quiet threats.

"You should return to the spotlight," Valen said finally. "You’re the star of the ball after all, we can’t just have the great crimson duke brooding in a corner."

"The crimson duke?" Justinian replied with a laugh. "What’s with that nickname? It fits, but it’s certainly intriguing."

Valen smiled faintly. "I don’t know as well, a few of the lower-ranked nobles just began to refer to you as such."

He turned to leave, but paused at the doorway. "Oh, and one more thing, the princess doesn’t talk like that to just anyone. If she’s curious about you... You’re already on the board."

The door shut behind him, leaving Justinian alone with the hum of the city below.

[Quest Updated: Maintain Favor with the Princess]

"Things are still going smoothly," he muttered. "But this quest... I hope it doesn’t go south, could never trust a romance novel and its unique logic..."

As he turned back toward the hall, his gaze caught on a figure near the far corner, Fenrix, speaking quietly with two hooded nobles.

They broke apart the moment they noticed him watching.

’Isn’t that...?’ Justinian thought, adjusting his cuffs before stepping off the balcony and back into the golden chaos.

’Makes sense... he’s a skilled spymaster, must have relocated to the capital after the defeat of Rhyne.’

’Couldn’t blame him, the amount of jobs he’ll get here is more than enough to get you set for life.’