"My Lord, I am fine."
Robin was encouraging . No, this wasn't encouragent. Robin was worried I would lose my temper and commit a massacre against the Rosalyn family. He was looking at with an expression of mingled grief and fear. The letter, provoking by saying the water downstream is only as clear as the water upstream, was reason enough for to explode.
But I had no intention of exploding. If I got pissed off and turned the Rosalyn family into a chopped steak restaurant, Robin's future marriage and my benevolent image as the Southern High Priest of the Archdeity Church would be irreversibly shattered.
My notoriety from killing the Grand Duke of the North was already at a dangerous level. If I accumulated any more infamy here, Robin's courtship would undoubtedly beco arduous.
"It's fine, Robin. I am the High Priest of the Archdeity Church. I don't kill people or recklessly swing my mace over sothing like this. You know that, right?"
"Yes, My Lord. I believe you."
Robin trusted and supported my supposed benevolence. I patted Robin's shoulder and said.
"Still, it feels a bit unfair to back down like this. I should have a talk with Marquis Rosalyn Barba."
"My Lord. Still, to go that far just for my sake..."
"Robin. Robin, I'll provide as much money as you need, so from tomorrow, attend Young Lady Rosalyn Yuba's performances without fail. Buy things like bouquets and give them to her every day. I'm telling you to generously show that you have an interest in Young Lady Rosalyn Yuba. But don't be too overt about it."
"I understand."
Since the marriage proposal had been rejected, I had to proceed with the matter in a different direction. No matter how much the Rosalyn family disliked , they couldn't turn away a fan who ca to watch a performance. I planned to create an opportunity for Robin and Young Lady Rosalyn Yuba to talk, while I would try to persuade Marquis Rosalyn Barba from behind the scenes.
"Th-That... but if you do that... the budget..."
"Is Young Lady Rosalyn Yuba's performance that expensive? Considering she performs on the street, it shouldn't be that costly."
The first ti we saw Rosalyn Yuba's performance was also on the street. It wasn't like Robin was poor enough to worry about the territory budget over ticket prices. In the first place, managing 10 knights in a palm-sized territory ant he was fucking well-off.
"Well then, good luck."
I went up to my room and checked the ball's attendance roster. I could see Marquis Rosalyn Barba's na written on the list of attendees. What the hell kind of person was this? I decided to call the coachman first to find out about Marquis Rosalyn Barba.
The coachman who ca up to my room was visibly tense. He mumbled and looked around, and when I told him to sit, he was startled and flinched. He looked like a beast just rescued from the wild, and I couldn't help but laugh.
"Don't be nervous, coachman. I called you because I have sothing to ask."
Sieri was at a nearby desk, recording the expenses we had incurred so far in a ledger. Even though we weren't really living extravagantly, she insisted on keeping a detailed account to organize when we returned. The coachman glanced at Sieri writing in her ledger, then felt my gaze and quickly looked away.
"Y-Yes. What are you so curious about...?"
"I'd like to hear about Marquis Rosalyn Barba."
"You an Marquis Rosalyn Barba, My Lord?"
"Yes. I'm planning to have a talk with him, and well... you probably know the reason, right? Our Knight Commander is of marriageable age, and I want to find him a good person, but things didn't go well with the Rosalyn family. So I'm thinking of talking to him, and I thought it would be easier if I knew what kind of person he is first."
"Ah, you don't know about Marquis Rosalyn Barba, My Lord?"
"I do not. I don't have many connections in noble society. I've never really left the Southern Region."
"That's not what I ant."
"I'm not trying to reprimand you, so just tell about Marquis Rosalyn Barba. What kind of person is he?"
The coachman furrowed his brow and mumbled. The sound of Sieri's pen scratching on the paper echoed. I looked toward Sieri and leaned back in my chair.
"Marquis Rosalyn Barba is the very embodint of the Northern temperant. In the past, when the Grand Duke of the North was fending off the Ain invasion and requested aid from other nobles, he was the one who took the lead, criticized the other nobles who were lukewarm in their support, and emptied his family's assets to provide assistance."
In other words, he was close to the Grand Duke of the North. And I was the madman who had smashed that Grand Duke's head in. Just from this, I could roughly guess what kind of feelings Marquis Rosalyn Barba would have for .
"I see. That's his public image. And what is Marquis Rosalyn Barba's personal character like?"
The coachman, looking troubled by my question, frowned slightly and glanced around. I reassured him.
"I'm asking just in case I make a mistake with Marquis Barba. If you know a person's character, it's easier to know the lines you should both respect."
"He is a very cold, fierce, and unforgiving person. That's why many of his friends both respect and fear him. They might say they respect him, but when Marquis Rosalyn Barba's carriage passed by, they would all scramble to get away, competing to be the first."
"Is he that scary of a person?"
"A very scary person, indeed. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to call him the incarnation of strict punishnt. He prefers to uphold the law and despises people who deviate from the norm."
"I see."
The more I heard, the more it sounded like we wouldn't get along. But I had to at least have a conversation. After forming a rough image of Marquis Barba in my head, I sent the coachman away. Sieri, who had stopped writing in her ledger, asked .
"Lusius. Are you going to the ball tomorrow, then?"
"I have to. I need to talk to Marquis Barba, and since our Sieri wants to dance, we'll dance too, right?"
"Th-The, the d-dance is a little embarrassing..."
"You practiced, but you're going to leave without dancing even once?"
My image had been shattered by the adultery incident, so I had to dance with Sieri. That was the only way to show that my marriage was still intact. I massaged Sieri's shoulders after she finished with the ledger and asked.
"By the way, are you not done yet?"
"Ah... I'm done. Hah..."
My hand lifted Sieri's top and fiddled with her bra. I groped her breasts and kissed the scruff of her neck. Sieri let out a hot breath, her legs trembling. I pulled off her top and lifted her up. My firmly erect other self was poking her buttocks.
Sieri bent her waist and pressed her buttocks against . I lifted Sieri's skirt and lunged at her. The pen she had been using to write in the ledger trembled on the notebook. Bouncing on the desk, her slender fingertips turned white. Sieri crumbled, scratching the desk with her fingernails.
The night passed.
The next morning. We arrived at the ballroom from early evening. Just like last ti, we sat at a table and observed our surroundings. People were at the ball, conversing with each other. The more influential one was, the more frequently they appeared at the ball. Perhaps because it had been three days, I no longer heard any strange rumors about myself.
"Allu Ted didn't co today either."
"Rumor has it he suddenly beca an idiot at the ball. So his escort knight was dismissed, and Lord Allu Mason also hurriedly returned to the western coast for treatnt."
"What a sha. He was a capable talent who would have led the future of the western coast."
"I know, right? No one knows why it happened... a rumor says it happened while he was eating potato salad. Shouldn't we avoid potato salad too?"
People were gossiping about a man nad Allu Ted returning to his hotown. I didn't know who Allu Ted was, but it seed he had beco an idiot due to an unfortunate accident. I shook my head and said to Sieri.
"Sieri. Are you going to dance today?"
"Well... that..."
The mont Sieri cautiously started to get up, all eyes suddenly focused on the center of the stage.
Two figures, a man and a woman, appeared on the stage. It was a middle-aged man with a long moustache and a middle-aged wife with a wavy perm. The woman, who had a sleek figure like a lady who had long practiced yoga or Pilates, was held tightly in the man's arms.
I heard the nobles next to talking.
"It's the Penelope couple, social dance experts who have only danced for 20 years."
"I'm so curious to see what kind of dance they'll sweep the stage with this ti."
"Fuck?"
I muttered the curse under my breath and looked at Sieri. Sieri, who had been hesitating, surprised by the size of the ballroom, now wore an expression of soone who had completely lost all confidence at the sudden appearance of these experts. The Penelope couple stood in the middle of the stage and greeted the crowd.
At their appearance, like seasoned perforrs, the nobles clapped and cheered. It was a crucible of excitent, as if an idol or a professional dance perforr had appeared at a nightclub. Sieri, pale as a sheet, gripped my hand tightly.
As if they had been waiting for the Penelope couple to appear, the orchestra changed the music. To the tune of an intense and sticky jazz-style music, the couple began to step. Their dazzlingly moving feet created the illusion that two people had beco one body moving with four legs.
A gentle step to the side was followed by a gliding step down to match his wife's movent. The Penelope husband spun his wife as if twirling a mobile with his hand, and the wife, standing on her tiptoes, perford a perfect rotation, drawing admiration from the nobles.
The protagonists of this ballroom full of beautiful n and won were the Penelope couple. They danced as if they were born only for this stage, their bodies drenched in sweat.
Ba-bam!
As soon as the music ended, the two smiled brightly and t each other's eyes. Seeing their expressions, soaked in love and sweat, it was clear they would have intense sex in their room when they returned. I asked Sieri again.
"Sieri. Shall we go and dance too?"
"...I, I can't..."
And with the exploits of the experts, Sieri completely lost her confidence and fell. Not a trace of courage could be found on her pale face. She fiddled with her hands and repeatedly shook her head. It seed dancing today was a lost cause.
What a sha.
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