"What's going on?"
Lorenzo asked curiously, it seed Mrs. Van Rudd was waiting for his return.
"You have a temporary assignnt."
A voice ca from the other side, Lorenzo turned sharply, he hadn't realized there was soone sitting by the door.
"Selyu?"
Lorenzo exclaid.
The girl nodded, wrapped in a thick coat on the sofa, a corner of her pure white dress peeked out, decorated with exquisite lace and patterns. She seed unaccustod to high heels, having taken them off, and placed the white heels on the other side of the sofa.
"...So what is it all about?"
Lorenzo took a deep breath, his voice tinged with helplessness and exhaustion, akin to working all day only to co ho and be faced with an even bigger trouble.
"You have an hour to prepare yourself; I hope you won't disgrace the Stuart family."
An elderly but heavy voice ca from behind Lorenzo; it was Yawei.
The old butler wore a look of disdain, a familiar expression Lorenzo thought he'd seen sowhere before... Oh, yes! It was Duke Phoenix, sharing the sa expression and hostility.
"Wait, what's going on?"
Rarely did Yawei not greet Lorenzo by pointing a gun at his head, yet from his expression, it seed Lorenzo was in even bigger trouble.
Lorenzo's mind raced, he seed to have missed sothing, his gaze returned to Selyu, whose cold deanor had changed slightly. Her face had a touch of color... wait, it wasn't a natural flush; she'd put on makeup.
Her loose light gold hair was tied up, adorned with exquisite jewelry, pearls, and silver chains, like a platter of precious tals.
The hapless detective seed to have realized sothing, but before he could speak, Yawei provided the answer.
"I hope the outfit fits you, and even if it doesn't, I hope you bear with it."
Saying this, Yawei tossed over a set of clothes, looking respectful, but his deanor implied no goodwill.
It was an evening gown, its smooth texture and intricate craftsmanship equivalent to several months' rent.
"But..."
Lorenzo had never witnessed such a scene; he was briefly speechless, but soon more attendants entered from behind the door, fussing over Lorenzo's attire. Their professionalism showed as they remained unfazed even when encountering the Winchester beneath his coat.
More attendants pressed Lorenzo into a chair, combing the hair flattened by his deerstalker hat, spraying skincare products onto his weathered face, hoping to rejuvenate his appearance sowhat.
Selyu didn't say much, rely wore a cold smile, which Lorenzo knew was her habitual expression, but now looked like cold mockery.
"Mr. Hols, if there were other options, I honestly wouldn't want to trouble you."
Seeing Lorenzo encircled, Yawei calmly began to speak.
Other options? Considering Selyu's odd smile, Lorenzo guessed he was the sole candidate on the list.
"So what exactly do you want to do?"
Strange perfu lingered on Lorenzo, its intoxicating scent affecting him—he really disliked it as it distracted him.
"It's a party, I need a dance partner."
Selyu spoke leisurely then, resting her face on her hand, watching everything with interest.
Lorenzo in such a state was rare; she'd seen many sides of him during their reckless tis, but never like this.
"So you don't think consulting about my opinion is necessary?"
The attendant tightened Lorenzo's belt, surprisingly, this detective had gained a few pounds over ti.
"So Mr. Hols, what do you think?"
Yawei asked.
Lorenzo turned his head and rolled his eyes, the large-caliber Revolver pressed against his head; these people hadn't intended to consult him.
"Ah..."
After pondering for a mont, Lorenzo nodded in reluctant acquiescence.
Yawei then clapped his hands and loudly asserted,
"Hurry up, you have one hour to dress this stray dog into soone presentable."
Hence, the attendants intensified the work, applying expensive costics to Lorenzo's face, weathered by Old Dunling's biting winds.
The truth was, Lorenzo was still quite young; due to Secret Blood, the constitution of all Demon Hunters was enhanced, this enhancent extending life expectancy; theoretically, a Demon Hunter could live over two hundred years, though few t peaceful ends due to battles with Demons.
Countless brushes swept across his face, and the mirror reflected a stray dog, shaven of its dirty fur, revealing its rugged features.
Staring at his youthful reflection, Lorenzo suddenly rembered he was still in pri youth.
Lorenzo grew up an orphan, unaware of his exact age, but after being adopted by the Church, life milestones were set for him; adoption beca his birthday, age determined by doctors' estimates.
Lorenzo, along with other orphans, was honed as Demon Hunters from the start—in essence, weapons. Weapons weren't supposed to think independently, so initially, Lorenzo had no na, only a series of numbers. After Secret Blood transplantation at seventeen, he gained sothing akin to a na, or rather a codena.
Piecing the tiline backward, Lorenzo realized eight years had passed since his Secret Blood implantation, aning he was now twenty-five.
For a mont, he felt both sentintal and regretful as he gazed at himself in the mirror.
Since becoming a Demon Hunter, normal life had vanished for Lorenzo; pondering this, a sense of lancholy erged, yet Lorenzo fiercely pushed these thoughts aside, deciding not to dwell on unhappy matters—no need to be at odds with oneself.
"So why ?"
Lorenzo asked; encircled by attendants, talking to himself.
"No suitable candidates; this is a regular gathering of aristocrats, with an underlying purpose of family alliance, influencing my coming-of-age ceremony."
Selyu's voice ca through the gaps in the attendants.
"But you still have a month, right?"
"Yes, but I will go to the Platinum Palace to inherit the title then, and these people wish to forge relations in advance."
Lorenzo seed to conjecture sothing.
"Is the dinner you skipped the sa kind?"
Selyu didn't respond, but Lorenzo imagined she'd nod coldly.
"Miss Selyu represents the entire Stuart group, and we do not wish to support any side in aristocratic disputes, preferring neutrality... at least temporarily, approaching any faction's aristocracy would cause others to be wary, possibly hostile. Thus, the ideal approach is maintaining distance from everyone."
Yawei's voice leisurely sounded, seemingly suggesting intrigues were silently brewing among the aristocrats.
"But there'll always be soone with ulterior motives trying to approach, so..."
"Why not simply find a scapegoat to attract attention?"
Lorenzo cursed, comprehending the situation.
No matter whom Selyu partnered with symbolized Stuart's stance; even sitting to eat fruit drew suitors. Instead of doing so, it's better to complicate matters by bringing a non-aristocrat into the scene; a non-aristocrat signified no stance, at most suggesting Selyu's sociability.
What cunning calculations! Lorenzo could already foresee the eyes wishing to tear him apart.
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