Lynch knew full well there was plenty the Duke had left unsaid; countless schemes and motives between him and the Princess were surely hidden behind this bestowal of knighthood.
But so what?
Having reaped the benefits, he could hardly begrudge them achieving their own goals in the process.
Given his connection through Trinlais, Lynch was willing to place his trust in them and simply let them do as they wished.
Because of this, he was in high spirits, downing half a dozen oysters in a row until Mrs. Maggie gave him a rather peculiar look from the side.
No, ma'am, you're overthinking it; they're just fresh and delicious, and I don't intend to do anything.
The Princess and the Duke had already departed, while Miss Valente and Officer Natalie returned to his side. Following the Duke's reminder, when he looked at Miss Valente again, a hint of worry was indeed concealed beneath her smile. Lynch offered no explanation, merely flashing an enigmatic smile.
As for Officer Natalie, Lynch realized for the first time that this lady was formidable in every respect—including her appetite. She had actually taken...
Before Lynch could finish jotting notes in his detective notebook, the lady officer kicked him right in the shin.
Is it just my imagination, or is this woman getting better and better at that?
At half past six, the dining tables were cleared right on schedule.
Though the sky remained light, the gigantic gas lamps across the front lawn were already lit. Their jumping, luminous flames subtly warmed the festive atmosphere.
The orchestra played once more, a rich symphony echoing over the Duke's mansion as guests trickled in from all corners, gathering before the manor in ever-increasing numbers.
The ball was about to begin.
Impeccably dressed men and women congregated on the front lawn, chatting and laughing softly in the twilight. Men with ulterior motives constantly shifted their conversational targets, carrying socialization to its very limit. The women had it even harder—whether anyone was around or not, they did their utmost to showcase their opulent gowns and graceful gestures, their smiles proud and confident.
Fine wine sent forth its fragrance, melodies drifted gracefully, jewels glittered, luxurious attire dazzled, and laughter rang amidst a scene of sheer extravagance.
The feast at the Duke's mansion left Lynch dazzled, prompting him to marvel from the bottom of his heart: if a ball held by local magnates was already this lavish, just how extravagant would an affair at the Norin Royal Palace be?
“It is actually quite similar. To host Her Highness Sophia, this ball was held to the standards of the royal capital.”
Miss Valente was dressed in splendid formal attire, her voluminous skirt trailing nearly to the ground. Crystal high heels gave the noble lady's petite frame a statuesque grace, while outside her long white silk gloves, the enormous sapphire on her ring sparkled brightly. Her slender fingertips pinched a glass of blood-red wine—the contrast of red and white making the visual impact all the more striking.
“Finished speaking with Lord Vane? It seems you're in high spirits—was the remuneration quite satisfactory?”
“Mm, it is the most satisfying reward I could have received.” Lynch looked away, a faint, ambiguous smile on his lips.
Observing Lynch's reaction, Miss Valente's brow furrowed in curiosity. “This reaction of yours... isn't quite right.”
Hiss, how could I forget? This girl isn't like the big sister next to her who's already downed three glasses of red wine—she's sharp as a tack.
“Judging by your expression, could your reward somehow involve me?”
Lynch's hair stood on end. This girl was far too perceptive.
“It seems I guessed correctly?” Miss Valente gave a sly wink. “Then I shall look forward with great anticipation to the moment you reveal the secret to me.”
With that, she raised her glass to lightly clink it against Lynch's...
Clink.
It met another glass extending from the side just in the nick of time.
The girl beside them, having just drained her fourth glass, intercepted the toast with a face darker than her outfit.
“You two had better watch yourselves. Something isn't right—several groups are watching, not the Princess, but the two of you. A few of them are journalists who are even conferring with one another. Who knows what they're up to, so you'd best be careful.”
Miss Valente's face darkened for a split second before returning to normal. With a faint smile, she said, “It is likely because Mr. Lynch's performance the day before yesterday was quite eye-catching and drew their attention. Journalists are just like that; there is no need to worry.”
“Their main target isn't Lynch, and those other people watching are staring at you, too.”
“It is no great issue; I shall deal with it afterward.” Miss Valente's expression had regained its calm as she raised her glass to the lady officer once more. “Thank you for your concern, Officer Natalie.”
“Hmph.” The girl, having downed her fifth glass of red wine, turned her head away, leaving Miss Valente with only her back.
Lynch cast a glance around and immediately understood what was going on.
Indeed, quite a few people were eyeing their direction—mostly young lads under twenty, predominantly the scions of local nobility.
Why stare at us? Jealous? I just love watching you look at me in jealousy.
Though he couldn't sprawl out on a beach, Lynch still turned toward them with a smile, raising his wine glass in a distant toast, which was met by a barrage of glares practically spitting fire.
Dong, dong, dong.
A sudden chime of bells rang out like a signal. Within seconds, the thousands of guests across the entire venue fell dead silent.
Every gaze shifted toward the tightly shut gates of the castle.
Amid the silence, the gas lamps lining both sides of the castle steps flared brightly. Under the illumination, the heavy castle doors were slowly pulled open. An honor guard of several dozen flanked either side, and the genuine, youthful Princess appeared before everyone's eyes, arm in arm with the white-haired old Duke.
Her golden gown was regal and opulent, radiant as sunlight, while her silver tiara, inlaid with fiery red gems, glittered brilliantly beneath the lights. Yet none of this was enough to claim even a shred of attention, for the person herself was far more dazzling than her attire—even Lynch, who had seen countless beauties, found his gaze lingering.
The next instant, however, a sharp pain struck his mind as his inspiration sounded an alarm once more.
The moment Her Highness the Princess appeared, countless eerie wills converged rapidly toward the gates of the Duke's manor from the surrounding twilight. From within the shadows, who knew how many pairs of eyes were fixed on Princess Sophia as she strode gracefully forward.
Everyone around remained oblivious, but Lynch felt his scalp tingle with dread.
Because in that split second, through his acute inspiration, he sensed those uncanny wills clashing hundreds of times in the air above the gates.
Silent and invisible, everything seemed normal on the surface, but Lynch alone knew that every clash of will brimmed with unspeakable, bizarre terror, as if the mysteries buried deep within the Dreamlands had bared their bloody fangs.
Was this the true power of high-tier figures? That a single thought, a mere wisp of intent, could exert such immense pressure?
Sweat beaded on Lynch's forehead. Alongside the instinctual terror came a profound sense of anticipation.
As I continue down my path of immortality, I will possess such power as well.
Bang.
A resounding detonation echoed across the venue as over a hundred flower cannons were triggered. Countless vibrant petals sprayed into the sky, creating a shower of petals before the castle doors.
Bang, bang, bang.
In the realm of inspiration, wills clashed every second; at every moment, countless thoughts surged, only to be annihilated in the collisions—noiseless, yet carrying the weight of an impending apocalypse.
“Announcing the arrival of Her Highness Princess Sophia Ross, First Princess of the Kingdom of Lande, Grand Duchess of Vickley, Regent of Avilana, and Eldest Daughter of the Rose family!”
Boom, boom, boom.
Dazzling fireworks soared into the sky, bursting brightly against the night curtain.
The burst of fireworks was accompanied by a grand crescendo of drums and music.
“Long live Lande! Long live Her Highness the Princess!”
Amidst the cheering crowd, the wills overhead erupted in a final, climactic shockwave, with the bursting fireworks serving almost as mere embellishments to their clash.
Finally, amidst countless brilliant rays of colorful light, several wills quietly receded, leaving behind only the cheering, jubilant crowd.
It was as if everything had been nothing more than a dream.
An era of peace and flourishing song and dance.
Rate on N.U.
