The banquet continued.
The crystal chandeliers still shone brilliantly, the orchestra played a gentle waltz, and nobles twirled across the dance floor amid clinking glasses and cheerful conversation.
Yet to Abel, everything felt distant and blurred.
He sat alone in a soft chair in the corner, holding a glass of champagne he had barely touched, his gaze unfocused as he stared ahead.
The scene from earlier kept replaying in his mind—
The feeling of the silver-haired girl holding his wrist, those cool, soft fingertips.
The arc of her skirt as it swirled during the spins, like ripples woven from moonlight.
The elusive smile in her silver eyes, and that light yet heart-striking line: “I was the one who danced the first dance with him.”
Along with that subtle hint—‘Euphelia is a nice name!’
And finally, her almost panicked escape, as if she feared that continued contact would let Abel notice something.
His thoughts were a complete mess.
He rubbed his temples, feeling a dull ache in his head.
“Young Master Abel.”
A soft voice called out.
Aiko stood before him, holding a small dessert plate, looking a little shy.
The blonde candidate saintess had changed into a light blue gown, her hair loosely braided and draped over her shoulder, making her look even younger than her actual age.
“Are you… feeling alright?” she asked carefully. “You don’t look well.”
Abel forced a smile. “I’m fine. Just a bit tired.”
“W-Would you like something to eat?” Aiko offered the plate in her hands.
“On it were several pieces of exquisite matcha mousse.” “This is really delicious, sweet but not cloying… I saved some especially for you.”
Her cheeks were slightly flushed, and her eyes darted away, unable to meet his gaze directly.
“…Thank you.”
Abel took the plate but made no move to pick up the fork.
Aiko looked a little disappointed but still gathered her courage.
“Um… if there’s something on your mind, you can tell me.”
“I might not be able to help much, but… talking about it might make you feel better.”
Her azure eyes were filled with sincere concern.
Abel looked at her and nodded.
“Thank you, Aiko,” he said softly. “I’m really okay.”
Aiko nodded but did not leave.
She sat down in the chair beside him, hands neatly placed on her knees, quietly keeping him company.
Not far away, Sephilia was strolling along the long buffet table with Sutis.
The powerful archbishop seemed to be in a good mood tonight.
She patiently introduced every type of dessert to the little angel, occasionally explaining their origins and how they were made.
Sutis’s eyes sparkled brightly.
She held a small plate piled high with various sweets.
Her cheeks were puffed out as she ate, her emerald twin-tails bouncing with each chew.
“This is so good!” she mumbled, stuffing another cream puff into her mouth.
Sephilia smiled and gently ruffled her hair.
“Eat slowly.” “No one’s going to take it from you.”
Her gaze, however, casually swept in Abel’s direction.
When she saw Aiko sitting beside him, a flash of satisfaction crossed her eyes.
But she quickly returned to her gentle smile.
On the other side, the atmosphere was far less harmonious.
“Investigate!” “Find out everything!”
Princess Prim lowered her voice and hissed through gritted teeth to the maid beside her. “Who the hell is that silver-haired bitch?!”
“How can you not find anything?!” “She’s not a ghost!”
The maid lowered her head nervously. “Your Highness, we really have asked every noble family present.”
“No one recognizes that young lady.” “The guards at the entrance also said… there’s no record of a silver-haired girl entering.”
“How is that possible?!” Prim’s voice rose slightly before she quickly lowered it again. “She was clearly here!”
“She danced with that bastard!” “Everyone saw it!”
“But… but she appeared out of nowhere and disappeared the same way…” The maid’s voice grew smaller and smaller.
Prim’s chest heaved with anger.
Everything she had carefully planned—lowering herself to apologize, showing the royal family’s sincerity, arranging the perfect opportunity for a dance—
All of it had been ruined by that mysterious silver-haired woman!
She had planned to use the close contact during the dance to slowly break down Abel’s defenses through body language and meaningful glances.
She had even prepared to “accidentally” slip so he would catch her and create an intimate atmosphere.
But now?
Her first dance had been stolen.
Abel’s mind was clearly elsewhere, occupied by that silver-haired woman.
And she, the third princess of the kingdom, had been left standing there like an idiot!
“Sister.”
A gentle voice interrupted.
Prim turned her head and saw her second brother, Lyle, walking over slowly.
The second prince with light golden hair wore a well-tailored dark blue suit.
His face held his usual gentle smile, but his eyes shone with sharp intelligence.
The maid bowed and retreated as if granted amnesty.
“Second Brother!” Prim grabbed Lyle’s sleeve like a drowning person clutching a lifeline. “Did you see that?” “That inexplicable woman!” “She—”
“I saw,” Lyle gently patted his sister’s hand, signaling her to calm down.
“It was indeed an unexpected factor.”
“Then what should we do?”
Prim asked anxiously.
“I did everything you told me to.”
“I lowered myself, apologized in public, even talked about self-exile!”
“But that guy… that guy didn’t appreciate it at all!”
Lyle narrowed his eyes slightly, his gaze shifting toward Abel in the distant corner.
“What’s difficult isn’t Abel himself,” he said softly. “It’s the people behind him.”
“Lord Julius?” Prim was stunned.
Lyle nodded. “Today’s speech about ‘fighting for all humanity’ was flawless.”
“It avoided the royal family’s moral trap while seizing the moral high ground.”
“That’s not something a straightforward person like Abel could come up with.”
“It must have been Julius’s doing.”
Prim bit her lip, lowering her gaze. “Then… does that mean we have no chance?”
“Not necessarily a bad thing,” Lyle smiled. “At least we’ve confirmed one thing—the second son of the Noct family truly has no interest in power.” “Father should be able to rest easy now.”
“Father can rest easy, but I can’t!” Prim stamped her foot, still biting her lip.
“From childhood till now, there’s never been anything I wanted that I couldn’t get!” “Why does he—”
“Sister.” Lyle interrupted her.
“His tone remained gentle but carried an undeniable firmness.”
“Romance isn’t power.” “You can’t simply seize it just because you want it.”
Prim froze.
“You’re holding on too tightly,” Lyle shook his head. “He’s a man too.”
“He has his own pride and principles.”
“The more you try to control him, the more he’ll resist.”
“Besides… you really did go too far before.”
Prim lowered her head, her fingers unconsciously twisting the fabric of her skirt.
A trace of regret seemed to appear on her face.
“Then… then what should I do?”
Lyle looked at her, a hint of relief in his eyes.
This spoiled little sister was finally learning to think things through.
“Take it slow,” he said.
“First, stay by his side as a friend and gradually change how he sees you.”
“Matters of the heart can’t be rushed.”
Prim nodded, not fully understanding but deep in thought as she bit her thumb.
Lyle smiled, then turned and walked toward Abel.
Abel was lost in thought when he sensed someone approaching.
He looked up and saw a young nobleman with light golden hair standing in front of him, a gentle smile on his face.
“Young Master Abel,” the other man nodded slightly. “Pardon the interruption.”
“I am Lyle Beint, Prim’s second brother.”