Chapter 70
Kalian stayed by the side of the sleeping Angela. Her face looked peaceful in slumber, but that didn’t mean he could relax. That ominous entity called Grace could invade her dreams at any moment.
He couldn’t bear to take his eyes off her for even a second, fearing he might lose her. Knowing there was nothing he could do in that dream world, Kalian still refused to leave Angela’s side.
He held her hand tightly. It felt like this was the only way he wouldn’t let her slip away.
“Sweet dreams, Angela. No nightmares.”
Kalian whispered against her face.
“I’ll take care of everything, so there’s nothing to fear.”
Then, he added one more word into the empty air.
* * *
Mary, walking ahead of Angela, bounced along with steps as light as if she were floating. It was partly because it was Angela’s birthday, which put her in a great mood, but what really thrilled her was seeing the shoes she’d gifted Angela on her feet.
It had been a long time since the path into the Bilton estate felt this exciting. It reminded her of the first time she’d come to the Bilton estate to meet Angela—that same initial joy and novelty.
She couldn’t wait to see the servants at the Bilton estate. She wanted to grab anyone and chatter away, asking if they knew whose gift those shoes on Angela’s feet were.
Rita! Rita would listen to her story attentively. Mary dashed into the estate, buzzing with excitement.
Meanwhile, Angela walked leisurely toward the ballroom of the Bilton estate, her hand resting on Kalian’s arm.
“You’re here, s-s-sister.”
Beatrice was waiting at the entrance. Angela had no idea when she’d finally be able to call her “sister” without stumbling, but instead of pointing it out, she said something else.
“Yes, and you’ve even learned to prepare a party on your own. You’ve grown up.”
Beatrice’s cheeks flushed bright red, and she bowed her head deeply toward Angela. Actually, she wanted to say she’d been quite shocked upon seeing the invitation, but it seemed better not to bring that up now.
Still, unlike the worries sparked by that garishly colorful invitation, the ballroom reflected Angela’s tastes in its own way.
Considering Angela’s dislike for anything ostentatious, they’d restrained the variety of colors and drastically reduced the presence of flashy sculptures. Instead, they’d filled the space with flowers in subdued tones, creating a sense of unity. It was a relief to the eyes the moment one entered.
This only made her more curious. Why on earth had the invitation looked like that?
Unable to resolve her question in the end, Angela headed to the head table in the ballroom, guided by Beatrice. The seats for Dominic and Yvonne, who should have been there, were empty.
It wasn’t that they hadn’t come because Angela couldn’t stand the sight of them like before; rather, they were giving her space on this special day. Angela’s heart stirred faintly. She herself couldn’t tell in what direction that stirring leaned.
The ballroom quickly filled with young nobles. Even though only those with invitations were admitted, it packed up in no time.
Probably because attendance was high. There were more than a few people desperate to see Angela, risen from the dead.
Receiving birthday congratulations, accepting gifts, enduring curious stares, then more congratulations, more gifts, more curious stares.
Angela, who had been sitting like a doll repeating this cycle, glanced back at Kalian, who stood rooted behind her like a fixture. She was bored out of her mind just sitting and receiving gifts; she couldn’t imagine how tedious it must be for him.
“Why don’t you pull up a chair and sit beside me?”
Kalian smiled and politely declined.
“I prefer it here.”
“What’s so great about standing there staring at the back of someone’s head?”
When Angela chided him, Kalian whispered so only she could hear, close to her ear.
“I’ve just discovered today how many expressions the back of Angela’s head can show.”
Angela looked up at him as if to ask what he meant, and he grinned, elaborating.
“You were thinking about that noble young man who just spoke to you, ‘Why is he talking so much?’ And to the lady before him, ‘Use this gift yourself.'”
Ah, Angela was about to retort but clamped her mouth shut. He was spot on.
One person droned on with birthday wishes as long as half a book, another brought a potion touted as a surefire way to conceive twins. It was chaos.
But apparently, it showed even on the back of her head. She’d tried to hide it, but clearly, it wasn’t enough.
“So, it’s entertaining. Today, I’ll guard Angela’s back.”
Kalian said, suppressing a laugh. It sounded cool on the surface, but he was definitely teasing her. Angela grabbed the nearest champagne and gulped it down.
Even watching her from behind, she felt like Kalian was thinking, ‘Oh, she’s embarrassed.’
It was when Angela was needlessly downing her second glass of champagne in a row. The room began to stir. The gazes of the people who wouldn’t leave Angela’s side all darted toward the entrance.
Angela rose from her seat and stepped down from the head table. She had a hunch about who was about to appear beyond that door.
Sure enough, through the doors flung wide open on both sides stepped the Empress of the Phaelon Empire, Anette.
“Her Majesty the Empress arrives!”
At someone’s loud announcement, everyone in the room paid their respects to Anette. As the bowed waists rose in unison, people began glancing around, trying to catch the Empress’s eye in any way possible.
However, Anette didn’t spare a single glance elsewhere and headed straight for Angela.
“Were those two close?”
“I thought they weren’t on good terms.”
“But looking at them now, they seem like best friends.”
“Oh my, Her Majesty is hugging Lady Bilton. Oh my, oh my.”
Hearing the whispers directed at them, Angela murmured into Anette’s ear.
“People are getting the wrong idea, Your Majesty.”
But Anette, who had briefly pulled away, drew Angela into another embrace from the opposite side.
“Stay still. I’m lending Lady Bilton some clout. Consider this repayment for the debt I incurred without asking before?”
Angela let out a wry laugh as she looked at Anette, who had now stepped back. So, now she was stamped in the nobles’ eyes as one of the Empress’s close friends—the rising star.
Even though Angela wasn’t currently focused on social activities, it was a rumor that wouldn’t hurt to have attached to her.
Glancing at Anette, Angela put on a friendly smile and offered her champagne. As Anette took the glass and clinked it against Angela’s with a cheerful “Cheers,” those who had been wishing for even a glance from the Empress sent looks of sheer envy.
“You need to smile more like that. Make it warmer.”
“Your Majesty is the one who’s incredibly unnatural. Your eyes need to smile, not just your mouth.”
“Lady Bilton is good at faking smiles; that’s nice. Oh right, you fooled me with that before.”
“If it were the current Your Majesty, you wouldn’t have been fooled at all.”
It was while Anette and Angela were exchanging such banter, laughing harmoniously like dear friends, with words spoken under their breath.
* * *
Beatrice, who had approached, began to pace restlessly around the area. Anette seemed to sense that she wanted to speak, and so she offered a greeting first.
“It’s been a while. This is the first time since that tea party, isn’t it?”
“Ah, y-yes, yes.”
But even with Anette’s warm greeting, Beatrice looked as if she’d lost her wits, her gaze wandering elsewhere. Her eyes trembled unsteadily. Angela furrowed her brow and asked.
“What’s wrong?”
At that moment, Beatrice, her eyes reddening as if she might burst into tears right then, cautiously pointed to the invitation in Anette’s hand. It was that garishly hand-drawn, multicolored one.
Had she only now realized how tacky and childish it was, utterly unsuitable for inviting the Empress to a noble lady’s birthday ball? If so, it was far too late for such a realization.
While Angela was thinking that.
“Um, how did that end up going to Y-Your Majesty?”
Beatrice, who had thrown out this incomprehensible question.
“It was meant for my friend Agnes…”
Revealed the bizarre truth of the invitation in a voice thick with impending tears.
Ah, that explained it. Of course—Beatrice was young, but even she wouldn’t send something like that to the Empress.
“Pfft!”
In an instant, a burst of laughter exploded from Angela’s lips.
Once it started, the laughter wouldn’t stop, and tears gathered at the corners of her eyes. After giggling uncontrollably for a good while, Angela looked at Beatrice and said one thing.
“You’re such an idiot.”
* * *
“She probably meant her head was empty.”
“Yeah, that makes sense.”
“But wasn’t it a bit too affectionate for that?”
“True, it sounded like a nickname no matter how you slice it.”
“But if they’d gotten that close, why would the Duke and Duchess skip a day like today?”
“There must be circumstances. Didn’t you see the gift they sent? It was dazzling.”
“Oh, that’s true.”
Leaving a circular space in the center for those who wished to dance, the people clustered along the walls were debating the scene Angela had put on earlier. Opinions were divided.
“But it’s Lady Bilton. We shouldn’t let ourselves be fooled.”
“Why not? People can change. They say coming back from the dead changes a person, right?”
“Wasn’t that just a collective misdiagnosis by the doctors? How can someone really die and come back?”
“Either way, that laugh seemed genuine. We’ve never seen her smile like that before.”
“Lady Bilton really is something. Just one smile, and look—everyone’s gathering like this…”
Meanwhile, Angela, who had laughed herself silly earlier over Beatrice, had completely lost her mirth. As if she’d used up her lifetime quota of laughter, she sat in her seat with an expressionless face, gazing down at the ballroom.
A few people had asked her to dance, but she’d declined. She was drained from laughing and had no energy left for anything else; besides, the thought that everyone had seen her in such a foolish state made her too mortified to show any more of herself.
“Shall we dance?”
Yet a touch she couldn’t possibly refuse reached out toward Angela. The face it led to was smiling gently, but the eyes were slightly hardened.
That made it all the more impossible to refuse, so Angela took Kalian’s extended hand and descended to the area where the dance floor had been set.
As the main players appeared, even those already dancing cleared the center.
To the tune of a soft melody, Kalian took Angela’s hand and wrapped his arm around her waist. Angela was pulled in as if swept away, entering his embrace and placing her free hand on his chest.
It was Angela who spoke first among the two gliding over the music like a flowing stream. She asked against his chest.
“What’s gotten into you, wanting to dance together?”
It was true that Angela had taught Kalian to dance, but the first and last time they had actually danced together was at their engagement ceremony. Back then, it was because he couldn’t bear to see her in close contact with anyone else.
But the Kalian now was embracing her as tightly as he could. It was contact far too intimate for mere dancing; the onlookers would surely find it odd. She could feel the sidelong glances prickling at them.
“You smiled so beautifully earlier. That’s a problem.”
Kalian replied from above her head. Angela couldn’t comprehend what he meant. Smiling? She’d just given everyone a spectacle of her own foolishness.
But Kalian’s thoughts seemed to run differently. He spoke in a voice subtly hardened, like the look in his eyes from before.
“The others all got to see Angela’s beautiful side.”
“Ha!”
At the absurd words, Angela let out a scoff against his chest. It was ridiculous. Who would find that endearing?
“No one thought it was cute, so don’t worry.”
In response, this time a wry breath escaped from above Angela’s head.
“Not cute? With her fiancé watching wide-eyed, she accepts a dance like that?”
“That’s…!”
She meant to say it was just a ballroom, and she was the party’s hostess, nothing more—but in truth, invitations to dance at gatherings like this were rarer for Angela than stars in the sky.
Everyone knew they’d be refused anyway, and refused quite sharply at that, so they didn’t even try.
But today… come to think of it, there had been an unusual number of people asking her to dance. Even after rejection, they’d gone off smiling, promising to ask again next time.
“They all came back blushing. They’re smitten with Angela.”
Ah, so this was… Kalian’s jealousy.
Angela bit back the urge to laugh like she had earlier. She let it leak out only in small bursts against his chest. Barely holding it in, she looked up at him with eyes crinkled at the corners and said.
“I’m the one smitten with you, so that’s enough.”
Kalian stopped dead in his tracks and looked down at Angela. The music played on, but the two of them stood utterly still, drawing curious attention from the crowd—what on earth were they doing?
Angela swallowed hard. His gaze held the intensity of someone about to kiss her right there.
But the flicker of light in those eyes, as if he might whisper words of love, lasted only a moment.
