Edmund was immediately arrested on the spot. With just a handful of guards, any proper resistance was impossible.
“This is a false accusation! This makes no sense at all!”
Of course, he shouted in protest, claiming his innocence, but sadly, no one was listening.
In truth, no matter how powerful a king might be, it’s difficult to just arrest a marquis on a whim. But when the charge is ‘treason,’ it’s an entirely different matter.
Moreover, the current power of the Arian King is absolute and unstoppable.
“Is this really going to be okay?”
“What is it?”
As Isabelle said, Contrat’s reputation in Arian was sky-high.
He had resolved the grain price riots, won the Niran Civil War, and brought rewards and festivals one after another. This had left the public with nothing but positive impressions.
In a merchant’s country like Arian, where a preemptive military principle is chosen, public support is more important than one might think.
In such circumstances, a rebel has now emerged against Contrat?
Whether marquis or duke, there are few who would view this favorably.
“But… that document earlier—is it really genuine?”
“It’s not really important, as Father said.”
Such brazen hypocrisy from that shameless father and daughter.
“This turned out easier to unravel than I thought.”
“Because the marquis was smart, it actually worked better. He probably never imagined he’d be caught in his own trap.”
Isabelle collaborated to prepare a trap to deceive Glenn. But from the very beginning, everything was going against Edmonton.
The entire banquet was nothing more than a stalling trap.
In other words, Edmonton thought he was preparing the trap and controlling the situation, but that was never the case. He was just bait dancing on a spiderweb from start to finish.
“So, the plan is all wrapped up now?”
They had successfully hunted down the two prey this time. Now, everything Glenn had to do at the Ball was essentially finished.
“Oh, by the way, I was going to talk about that place anyway. It’s a bit much to talk here in the hallway—shall we go to the terrace for a toast?”
Indeed, talking in such a cramped corridor was a bit much.
Glenn readily nodded in agreement.
“Very well.”
“Good. Then I’ll go ahead and wait there.”
After changing his clothes, Glenn said he would head to the terrace. Earlier at the banquet, a table had been knocked, spilling wine on his shirt.
He asked Sasha to run an errand while Isabelle moved on alone.
The ballroom, on the eve of the last day, remained bustling.
Everyone who was supposed to come had already arrived. There were no more guests to welcome. And since the plan had succeeded, they could afford a bit of rest.
Her footsteps toward the terrace were fairly light.
But there were those watching this Isabelle closely.
The bodyguards of Count Oswald.
***
At the terrace shop, Isabelle took a sip of wine and gave a small smile as if greeting someone.
“Prince Glenn, you’ve finally arrived…”
No—her face froze instead.
The man who entered the terrace was not Glenn.
“…Count Oswald?”
“Haha, I’m flattered you remember me, my lady.”
Isabelle openly frowned.
The terrace was a place only accessible to women and men permitted by them.
Count Oswald was not among those invited by her. They had never had such a conversation. His behavior was plainly rude.
“What are you doing here? Why did you come?”
“Hmph, just wanted to chat. Don’t understand why you’re so sharp with me.”
As tensions grew, Oswald replied shamelessly.
… What is this guy up to?
Isabelle naturally stood up and put some distance between them.
“I don’t recall inviting you here. Please leave at once.”
“If you mean the Lepent bastard as the inviter?”
Oswald replied slyly, starting to approach Isabelle bit by bit.
Her guard was rising to its highest level.
“None of your business.”
“Why are you so wary of me? I’m just a noble of my empire trying to build good relations with a neighboring country—”
“Speak from there. And don’t come closer.”
Isabelle warned coldly, and Oswald’s facade finally cracked.
“You wretched bitch.”
His sagging cheeks twitched. At the same time, his face turned redder than usual.
“…What did you say?”
“Why are you so arrogant? Aren’t you just a cheap laugh-monger, going here and there?”
“…What?”
The completely unexpected insult left her dumbfounded.
What on earth was he saying?
“I’ve been watching you since yesterday, hopping around and flashing that fake smile. You’re nothing but a vulgar woman of ill repute—am I wrong?”
While insulting her, his gaze wandered all over Isabelle. There was a strange restlessness in his eyes.
Isabelle felt like vomiting from that stare.
And now, beyond disbelief, a faint anger began to seep out. She tried to gather her blood energy naturally but bit her lip slightly.
… Using blood magic here during the Ball? Against an imperial noble?
She didn’t even want to imagine what rumors would spread.
Blood witch, vampire, and all sorts of gossip—they’d have a headache for a while.
“Looks like that damned bastard’s spawn has been seducing with her body too. Filthy woman. But why do you act so boldly in front of an imperial noble like me? You’re impossibly arrogant!”
“…Are you sane? I’m a princess of Arian—”
“Yeah, and I’m a count of the empire. A woman like you is just a worthless wretch who should be served by me! You’re still young and clueless about what matters.”
“D-Do you mean I should serve you!?”
Her voice trembled, her fingertips shook, and even her eyelids fluttered. She was too shocked and helpless to respond properly.
This was unlike her usual reaction. The biggest reason was her opponent. Britani and other young ladies, despite the surface, try to keep their dignity.
But this man didn’t even think about that.
More than anything, he was disgusting.
His pig-like appearance, dirty eyes, the scum around his teeth, and his foul breath—at first meeting, it wasn’t so obvious, but now it was clear. Everything from head to toe insulted Isabelle’s dignity.
“Ugh.”
More than anger, she felt a faint terror.
It was like facing a gigantic beast.
“Isn’t it obvious? You’re supposed to act cautiously during the drink and the night. But how dare you rudely refuse my dance? You’re the one who should be asked if you have your wits!”
Spitting and shouting, Oswald stepped forward.
… Should I kill him?
Such thoughts flashed through Isabelle’s mind.
Of course, she had never killed anyone before. No matter how fierce a political or verbal fight, it always ended with words.
Anger, disbelief, shame, hesitation, nervousness, disgust, fear.
Isabelle was feeling a whirlwind of emotions.
“Don’t come closer!”
She started gathering red blood energy at her fingertips.
If he crossed the line, there would be no choice but to act. Even if it caused rumors, she would have to deal with it.
“You arrogant bitch, don’t come any closer—”
But at that moment—
“Kyaah!”
With a scream, a figure flew into the inner terrace.
Thud—
The one who crashed was one of Count Oswald’s guards.
They had clearly been ordered to guard the terrace and let no one in.
As if answering this question, an unfamiliar voice was heard.
“Gatekeeper.”
“Woah, Quanya.”
“Oh dear, have you already forgotten me?”
The man who appeared was smiling. His grin stretched wide, but it was a chill-inducing smile.
Count Oswald recognized the man immediately.
“Y-You’re!”
“Surprised to see me, Count Oswald?”
Glenn’s cold gaze was fixed on Oswald.
Like a predator who had found its prey.
Oswald swallowed hard and stepped back, intimidated by the icy gaze.
“P-Prince Glenn?”
“Princess Isabelle, come here at once.”
His voice was heavy and authoritative, yet oddly restrained as if holding back a smile.
Glenn kept his gaze fixed, reaching out his hand toward Isabelle.
His tone was somewhat strange, his breathing slightly hurried. The chilling smile still lingered on his lips.
… Is that really Glenn?
The face was undoubtedly the man she knew.
But somehow, it felt like someone else.
Thinking this, Isabelle hurried toward him.
“Prince Glenn? Are you okay? Your expression—”
It was strange, unlike usual. Seeing his face now, she was certain.
How to say it—anger? Yet at the same time, there was a faint joy, a strange mix.
“Who? Me? No, the one who should be asked if you’re okay is the princess. Are you alright?”
Glenn quietly wrapped one hand around her waist and turned his back, as if escorting her.
Much more skillful than usual.
This was a man who normally couldn’t help but order others around, wasn’t he?
“Y-Yes, I’m fine thanks to you, Prince.”
“That’s good. But we can’t leave that bastard alone. Isn’t that right? Of course it is.”
His speech was odd, just like before.
Is this really him?
“W-Wait a moment. You… are you really Prince Glenn?”
“Hmm? What’s this? A quiz? Interesting, but this is not the right time, lady.”
Definitely not like his usual self.
Feeling some unknown unease, Isabelle pressed again—
“No, what is this—kyaa!”
Glenn pulled her closer, whispering in her ear.
“Not now. Yes, not now. I have things to do. Call the guards.”
“Y-Yes?”
“The one who tried to attack Princess Isabelle, right? We must punish him. Don’t you agree?”
Isabelle nodded at his unusual boldness compared to usual.
“Bring the guards. But as late as possible. That way I can enjoy it fully.”
Enjoy?
What on earth was that supposed to mean?
“What’s that…”
“Count Oswald is someone I know. Oh, did I mention that already? Anyway, an old acquaintance. A very, very stubborn grudge. Yes, of course.”
He rambled, yet there was a trace of resentment.
At first glance, he seemed mad, but Isabelle had seen a similar look before—when her father vented his grievances about the empire.
Worry began to fill Isabelle’s eyes.
“Prince, you seem too agitated—”
“Hmm? No, I’m fine. Yes, I’m normal. So don’t worry. Just leave this place to me for a moment—just for a moment.”
He gently pushed her away.
As said before, his hands were very skillful, unlike usual.
“P-Please don’t kill him. And remember what you told me last time—that time spent seeking revenge is in vain…”
Was now the right time to say that?
Though she thought so, she felt she had to say something. An intuition told her to hold him back.
“Ah, yes. ‘That guy’ said something like that. Well, don’t worry. Seriously.”
He said that, then turned his back again.
As he entered the terrace and closed the door behind him, he quietly whispered to Isabelle.
“I’m already broken.”
Glenn—or rather, Riclang—smiled.
It was a calm yet cold smile.