Chapter 104

Chapter 104: Social Club Party (2)

A week later, early morning.

In front of the port authority building in Mudside.

A large party venue had been prepared here.

“W-where should I put these lilies of the valley, Sir Gadolph?”

“Move them over there! And check that the food preparations are all in order.”

“Yes, sir!”

“Keep your heads straight! Today, we can’t afford even the slightest mistake!”

Under Gadolph’s command, the servants bustled about in every direction, decorating the party hall.

Flowers, ornaments, and the flag of the Daphne Viscounty were placed all around.

On the tables lay a spread of all kinds of delicacies, from seafood caught in Mudside to food purchased from outside.

The scenery of the party hall blended with the view of the sea beyond, creating an exotic atmosphere and a strange sense of openness.

And that wasn’t all.

“Greetings, Viscount Cobalt! Thank you for inviting me! And congratulations on the port opening as well. This trading port is truly magnificent.”

“Hahaha, it’s I who should be thankful you came, Baron Linion!”

Beside the lord and Malion, countless nobles, merchants, and other invited guests flocked to them in an unending stream, making the place a sea of people.

Men and women, young and old alike, all seemed to have dressed up to their finest for the party.

“Ah, how do you do! I am Malion, the Third Young Master!”

“Ohhh, a pleasure to meet you!”

“I-I’m Engelmann, the supply officer!”

Both Malion and the retainers who had invited these guests were equally busy tending to the arrivals.

On top of that…

“By any chance, Viscount, does the Landen Viscounty have any plans to use the port?”

“Ahem, well, yes. In fact, that’s partly why I came here—I’ve grown interested in the matter…”

“Really? Then this is the perfect timing. You see, there aren’t many spots left!”

“Oh? Is that so?”

Malion rubbed his hands together and gave a smile brimming with pretense.

‘To think business would be this good.’

Already, over twenty people at this very event had said they wanted to sign contracts.

Considering how empty and lifeless it had been just a short while ago, the change was unbelievable.

At that moment, the viscount across from him spoke with a troubled look.

“Ahem, still… I’m worried it might be a bit hasty to decide on a contract right here and now.”

“Hmm. Thinking it over is fine, but I’d still advise you to decide quickly, Baron.”

“And why is that?”

“As I said, there aren’t many spots left. It’s just… well, since Her Highness the Princess is involved with this place…”

When Malion subtly let that slip, the noble’s eyes went wide.

“Could it be… that rumor was true?”

“What rumor?”

“That Princess Medeia had a hand in constructing this port. I thought it was just idle gossip…”

Good, the bait’s taken.

Malion raised his tone slightly and waved his hands, cornering his counterpart.

“Haha, do you think Her Highness merely got involved? In truth, this place is practically owned by the Princess herself. This is a secret, but… Her Highness will be attending the party today.”

“R-really?”

“Yes. What reason would I have to lie to you, Baron?”

The noble’s eyes gleamed.

It pricked at Malion’s conscience a bit, but what could he do?

“Th-then I’ll sign the contract right away!”

“Ahem! Please wait just a little. Let’s finalize the contract after the party. Haha!”

“It’s a promise! Make sure to include me, no matter what!”

“Of course!”

The effect was certain—too certain, in fact.

‘Good. Very good.’

Just throwing one party and it turned out like this?

As Malion inwardly shed hot tears of joy…

“Hahahahaha! Yes, yes, when I was subjugating the Kreveion, you see…”

“Oooh! Kreveion, you say? Remarkable!”

A loud burst of laughter erupted from one corner.

When Malion turned his head in that direction, he saw Hardin surrounded by nobles, chatting away.

His hair was slicked back neatly with oil, a wine glass in one hand… fitting in perfectly as he boasted of his exploits.

A faint chuckle escaped Malion’s lips as he watched.

At that moment, Engelmann, who was beside him, spoke.

“Young Master, isn’t he doing surprisingly well?”

“…Indeed.”

Malion nodded in agreement.

To be honest, the thing he had been most worried about for this party was Hardin’s very presence.

What if he got drunk and picked a fight with someone, or caused a disturbance…

The possibilities for trouble were endless, but strangely enough, Hardin seemed different today.

‘So my brother can behave when he wants to.’

A pleased smile was forming on Malion’s face when the noble across from him asked,

“Is that man over there Young Master Hardin? The one who defeated Donfel and distinguished himself in the war against Calpion…?”

“Ah, yes. That’s correct, Viscount.”

“Ahem. If it’s alright, could you introduce me to him? I’d like to hear some of his tales.”

“My brother, you say?”

“What? Is that not possible?”

Malion waved his hand and replied,

“Haha, no, not at all. Let’s go together.”

I’ll be counting on you until the end, brother.

With a faintly satisfied expression, Malion took the lead.

---

A short while later, at a secluded corner of the party hall.

It was a damp spot where the view was blocked by decorative pillars and flower vases.

“Haaahhh… Doing something I had no intention of doing is exhausting me to death.”

Completely drained, Hardin squatted down and gulped down liquor from his cup in one go.

‘What am I, some kind of clown?’

Acting all sweet and friendly in front of those riffraff…

At that moment, his second sister’s voice echoed in his head.

 Varlach. When you come to a party, don’t just guzzle alcohol—do some actual work! Talk to the guests, and there are so many lovely young ladies, too!

 Ah, I don’t want to, Sister. Do I really have to do this?

 And you think anyone wants to do it? You think they do it because they want to?

Sister. Was this really such a hard thing to do? And for what…

‘Damn my cursed fate.’

What crime did I commit to deserve being forced into something like this?

 Crime? You’ve committed plenty, haven’t you?

Ah, geez. Quiet, Sister.

Hardin waved his hand dismissively at the empty air.

That was when—

“Y-Young Master!”

When he looked up, Manton was standing over him by the flower vase, with Beryl at his side.

They had attended the party as security detail along with the knights of the house.

“Yeah, what is it?”

When Hardin replied in a drained tone, Manton glanced around cautiously before asking in a low voice,

“S-so… when is Princess Medeia… going to arrive?”

“The Princess? Why are you asking me that?”

“Why? Well, you’re the one here who’s closest to Her Highness, aren’t you?”

“Closest, my ass.”

Hardin let out a short, dry laugh and waved his hand.

“I dunno. She’ll come when she feels like it.”

Manton’s eyebrow twitched before he pressed again.

“Please, give me a serious answer.”

“Why should I?”

“Are you… not looking forward to it, Young Master?”

“…Looking forward? To what?”

Manton, looking somewhat embarrassed, cleared his throat before continuing.

“Ahem! Well, you see… this is a social party, isn’t it?”

“And?”

“So I was thinking… maybe Her Highness might show a slightly different side of herself here.”

Hardin tossed back the rest of his drink in one gulp before asking,

“So what you’re saying is… you’re hoping the Princess shows up in a dress? That it?”

“Ahem! Well, not exactly…”

Oh, this bastard?

A look of mild disdain crossed Hardin’s face.

“Man, for a knight, you’re pretty sly…”

“How is that sly?”

When Manton retorted indignantly, Hardin quietly turned to Beryl, who was standing beside him.

“Hey, Beryl.”

“Yes.”

“What do you think of this guy’s comment?”

“I think it’s truly a garbage thing to say.”

“G-garbage? Did you just—”

Before Manton could finish, Hardin smirked and added,

“Right? The guy’s got a bit of a filthy streak. They say the ones with the clean-cut looks are the worst.”

“Of course!”

Beryl nodded, making Manton stomp in place in frustration.

“Nooo! What is this…?! This is my pure admiration you’re mocking!”

Well, this kid… sure is simple.

Hardin sighed deeply, looking at him with pity, before adding,

“And besides, that thing you’re imagining… it’s not gonna happen.”

“What do you mean?”

“Think about it. That Princess, who looks like she wouldn’t bleed even if you stabbed her—would she really come to an event like this in a dress?”

It’s obvious. Completely obvious.

Aside from wielding a sword, she didn’t give a damn about anything else—did Manton really think a social party would make any difference?

Same uniform, same hairstyle as usual.

Nothing more, nothing less.

Just the fact that she would even show up at the party would be a blessing in itself…

Manton replied in a disgruntled tone.

“And how can you be so sure of that, Young Master?”

“It’s obvious. Do I really need to see it to know?”

The two of them were chatting in the corner for quite some time when—

“Oooh!”

“My goodness…”

Murmurs of astonishment began to ripple from one side of the party hall.

“What is it?”

The moment Beryl and Manton turned their eyes in that direction—

The crowd suddenly parted to either side, and in the middle, a single figure emerged.

Manton’s eyes went wide as he exclaimed,

“Isn’t… isn’t that Her Highness the Princess?”

So she’s finally coming.

Hardin, looking thoroughly uninterested, slowly rose to his feet and stepped out from beside the flower vase.

Then, in the distance, he saw Medeia walking forward at a measured pace, with Lieutenant Benjamin accompanying her.

“…Huh?”

A glimmer of surprise flashed in Hardin’s eyes.

Contrary to his expectations, Medeia was not in her usual uniform, but wearing a blue dress.

It wasn’t flashy in itself, but the hem fluttered in the wind, creating a wave-like motion that gave off a strange, captivating aura…

And given that her face was already striking, the dress seemed to suit her even better this way.

“Your Highness…”

“We pay our respects to the noble one.”

Thump.

With each step she took, nobles went down on one knee, paying homage.

It felt as if Medeia’s very presence was sweeping through the space like a wave.

‘Good heavens…’

‘She’s like a goddess. Truly the bloodline of a god.’

Everyone was struck silent by her beauty, by her presence.

Their inadequate words could never capture it fully.

Hardin watched her with a peculiar glint in his eyes.

Aside from swinging a sword, she didn’t care about a damn thing—did Manton really think a social party would change that?

Same uniform, same hairstyle as always.

Nothing more, nothing less.

Just having her show up at the party at all would be enough to be grateful for…

Manton replied in a sullen tone.

“And how can you be so sure of that, Young Master?”

“It’s obvious. Do I really need to see it to know?”

The two of them had been chatting in the corner for some time when—

“Oooh!”

“My word…”

A stir broke out in one corner of the party hall.

“What’s going on?”

The moment Beryl and Manton turned their heads in that direction—

The crowd suddenly split to either side, and in the middle, a single figure stepped forward.

Manton’s eyes went wide as he cried out,

“Th-that’s… Her Highness the Princess, isn’t it?”

So she’s finally arriving.

Hardin, looking thoroughly unenthusiastic, sluggishly got to his feet and stepped out from beside the flower vase.

And then he saw her—Medeia, walking slowly in the distance with Lieutenant Benjamin at her side.

“…Hm?”

A glint of surprise flashed in Hardin’s eyes.

Contrary to his expectations, Medeia was not wearing her usual uniform, but a blue dress.

It wasn’t gaudy, but the hem fluttered in the wind, creating the image of waves and lending her an oddly captivating aura…

And given how striking her face already was, he thought she looked even better dressed this way.

“Your Highness…”

“We pay our respects to the noble one.”

Thump.

With each step she took, nobles knelt on one knee to pay their respects.

It felt as though Medeia’s very presence was sweeping through the hall like a wave.

‘Good heavens…’

‘She’s like a goddess. Truly the bloodline of a god.’

Everyone was struck silent by her beauty and presence, unable to utter a word.

Their limited words could never capture it.

Hardin gazed at her with a peculiar look in his eyes.

 Varlach, how do I look today?

 Well…

 Oh, don’t be like that. Tell me properly.

Seeing Medeia in a dress, Hardin was oddly reminded of the way Linian had looked at a past party.

‘Linian, that little brat… though in terms of looks, she does resemble her a bit.’

Hardin smirked faintly at the thought.

Just then, Medeia began walking straight toward the center of the hall.

Hardin let out a deep sigh, then lightly tapped the back of his hand against Manton’s chest.

“I’ll be back.”

“Ah, yes!”

Approaching Medeia’s side, Hardin knelt down and bowed his head.

“…You’ve arrived.”

“Yes.”

A brief silence followed, their eyes meeting for a moment.

Then Medeia turned her gaze, briefly surveying her surroundings.

At the center of the party hall with a view of the sea, everyone had their heads lowered toward her.

“Everyone, rise.”

At her words, the crowd slowly straightened up.

At some point, Viscount Cobalt, Malion, and the other key members of Daphne had gathered near her.

Viscount Cobalt stepped forward and said to Medeia,

“Your Highness, thank you for gracing this humble place with your presence. It may be lacking, but… please enjoy yourself.”

“I’ll try.”

Though her expression seemed a bit awkward, her reply was courteous enough.

At that moment—

‘Lady Medeia…’

Benjamin, standing right behind her, wore a pleased smile.

And just as all eyes were gathered in one place—

Medeia reached for a wine glass prepared on the nearby table.

She picked up a spoon, lightly tapping it against the glass as she spoke.

“Everyone, your attention!”

The murmurs in the hall faded away into complete silence.

And then…

“I am Medeia Fabian, Fourth Princess of the Fabian Empire.”

Medeia began speaking in a calm voice.

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