“I haven’t seen you looking so spruce since Lord Triton retired to his estate,” Hebaron remarked, grinning.
Riftan had just trudged out to the corridor, brow furrowed as he undid the coat buttons covering his throat. These days, with no one around to criticize his attire, he had stopped wearing such gaudy clothes.
That was not the case tonight. After King Reuben insisted he dress for the occasion, Riftan had donned the uniform of his order and a gold, jewel-encrusted belt. He scowled as he touched his thigh- length, black velvet coat. As if that were not enough, the darn squire had polished his boots until they practically sparkled.
Should I be grateful he didn’t try to make me wear those ridiculous pointed shoes?
Gritting his teeth, he said, “The king made it clear that I am not to besmirch his name, and I didn’t want to waste my breath arguing about something so pointless.”
“You’re right. He is a dependable ally at the moment, so it’s best we remain in his good graces,” Hebaron muttered, stroking his neatly shaved chin.
Riftan furrowed his brow. Calling the king an ally felt odd to him since they had never been in perfect accord. However, he could not deny his gratitude for King Reuben’s staunch defense of the armistice.
A precarious peace is still better than no peace at all.
Glumly, Riftan turned to the entrance of the grand banquet hall. The mere thought of enduring open fascination and scorn, overblown flattery, veiled hostility, and wheedling throughout the night was already making his head ache.
Nevertheless, he could not afford to miss the banquets attended by influential figures of the Seven Kingdoms. The celebration offered not only an opportunity for the nobles to indulge in drink but also to forge new alliances and strengthen old ones. In no other gathering would one hear so many secrets, plots, and rumors.
Despite his growing irritability from sleepless nights, Riftan steeled himself and strode into the spacious hall. Ignoring the countless pairs of staring eyes, he walked across the room to the end of the long table laden with food and drink.
Ursuline was already seated, and he stood in greeting. “You are late.”
“As you can see, I could not simply dismiss His Majesty’s gift,” Riftan replied flatly.
He picked up a goblet of wine and, scanning the crowd, shifted closer to the wall. The banquet hall was a dizzying flurry of activity; servants bustled among overindulging nobles, and young men and women spun in graceful dances, all under the dazzling light of a grand chandelier.
Riftan’s eyes landed on Richard Breston. The northerner was seated at a round table by the arcade, talking to a middle-aged cleric in a red cloak.
After silently watching for a moment, Riftan asked Ursuline, “What do you know about that cleric?”
Ursuline followed the direction of his gaze. “That is the high priest Garis. The leader of the Orthodox Church, and the defeated opponent of the current pope during the papal election.”
“Were you able to learn anything?” chimed in Hebaron.
Ursuline’s brows drew together. “Only things anyone could have easily predicted.”
Riftan turned his head to look at him. “Such as?”
“Garis has been rubbing shoulders with Heimdall VI and his vassals since the banquets began. They claim it’s to foster better relations, but it’s no secret that Balto and the Orthodox faction have a mutual understanding. They brazenly sow discord by constantly questioning the fairness of the papal conclave.”
“So, the pope’s authority is weaker than we thought.”
“People are accusing the former pope of having brought the conclave forward to give his side the advantage. And his decision not to reveal the involvement of the dark mages in the war against the monsters until now has provided the Orthodox Church with just cause to denounce them.”
Ursuline sighed and continued, “The pope is trying to overshadow the criticism with the victory celebrations, but his opponents are now using the banquets as a platform. Many have already been swayed to their side.”
Riftan brought the goblet to his lips, his gaze fixed on Richard Breston. Sensing the scrutiny, Breston turned his head to sneer back.
Narrowing his eyes, Riftan felt a surge of icy rage course through him. The audacity with which Breston was instigating conflict, disregarding Riftan’s earlier warning, filled him with anger.
He took a gulp of wine and said stiffly, “Who is colluding with them?”
“The nobles of Arex,” Ursuline began. “There are rumors that prominent Orthodox members have been paying frequent visits to King Balial at his-”
Riftan turned to look at Ursuline when he abruptly stopped. The fair-haired knight stood frozen, mouth agape, staring at the hall’s doors. Following his gaze, Riftan’s breath hitched at the sight of Maximilian Calypse.
He watched her sedate entrance, his chest tight as though kicked by a warhorse.
“Well, well… Now that’s a bold challenge,” Hebaron quipped with a hearty laugh.
Riftan’s jaw was clenched, a rebuke at his subordinate at the tip of his tongue. But he found he could not tear his eyes away from her.
Maxi appeared to have come determined to seduce every man in the room. Her thin, pearl-colored silk gown exposed half of her pale breasts, and the flowing skirt did little to conceal the alluring curves of her body.
Riftan let out a stifled groan. If this was her idea of retaliation, she could not have chosen a better method.
“That… That is hardly appropriate! A-A virtuous lady should not be -” Ursuline stammered before abruptly cutting himself off.
He did not need to finish for Riftan to grasp his next words. His wife’s current appearance was far from that of a woman of virtue. She seemed more like a seductress seeking a passionate affair.
Riftan’s grip tightened around his goblet. He refused to believe she held such intentions. It was obvious this was simply her way of expressing her displeasure with him.
At least, that is what he thought until he saw her tentatively accept the hand of the man who came in after her.”
Hebaron gave a low whistle. “It appears our lady has come to declare war.”
When Riftan sensed his fingers suddenly wet with wine, he realized he had unwittingly crushed the goblet.
Flinging the mangled remains of the goblet onto the table, he turned his simmering eyes to his wife. Maximilian Calypse surveyed the banquet hall with a mix of nervousness and excitement. Sejuleu Aren stood beside her, gently reassuring her with a kind smile. Riftan was certain he was quite capable of splitting the man in half without a trace of remorse.
Ursuline nervously stepped forward. “I shall escort her ladyship out.”
“Don’t,” Hebaron said firmly. He then turned to Riftan. “You plan to send her away, don’t you? If so, you should not interfere with her decisions.”
Riftan glowered at Hebaron, who merely arched an eyebrow, daring him to refute his point.
“Do you expect her to wait for you like a celibate cleric, despite your neglect?” Hebaron said.
“Watch your tongue, Nirtha! The commander is only trying to keep her safe-“
“A fact her ladyship is unaware of,” Hebaron coldly interjected. “You seem to want to keep her ladyship locked away in a gilded cage, but that is impossible. If she is that easily possessed, she can just as easily be snatched away.”
“Watch your tongue,” Riftan said in a voice that sounded chillingly gentle even to his own ears.
Though Hebaron clearly had more to say, he held back when he saw the dangerous glint in his commander’s eyes. Riftan turned his gaze to his wife again, silently watching Sejuleu Aren walk her over to the group of Western nobles.
Soon, men with flushed faces flocked around her. A murderous gleam flashed in Riftan’s eyes as he wiped his clammy hand with a napkin.
***
Maxi felt overwhelmed by all the unexpected attention. The young men from Livadon, whom Sejuleu Aren had introduced her to, treated her with reverence. Some even showered her with such effusive praise that left her feeling embarrassed.
After just ten minutes in the banquet hall, Maxi felt drained. She felt as though she were conversing with a hundred Ulyseons.
“It seems we’ve stood by the fire too long, Lady Calypse. You look flushed,” said Sejuleu Aren. “Shall we head to the window for some air?”
Maxi gladly followed him toward the terrace.
When they reached the half-open window, Sejuleu leaned down and whispered, “I must say, this is turning out to be a more exhilarating quest than I thought.”
Maxi looked up at him, perplexed.
An impish smile curled the knight’s lips. “Have you not noticed? Riftan Calypse has been shooting daggers at me from back there for some time now.”
When she turned to look, Maxi spotted Riftan standing like a dark shadow beside a towering column. Though he was devastatingly beautiful, dressed in a well-tailored black ensemble, he exuded a menacing aura.
Maxi gulped past her parched throat. Even from the look in his eyes, she could sense his anger had reached perilous levels. Fear made her hair stand on end, but at the same time, the thrill of anticipation coursed through her. It was like riding a wild stallion at full speed – she would either reach her destination or be thrown off and trampled. There was no middle ground.
“Sir Sejuleu, would you care to join me for a dance?” she proposed, keeping her gaze leveled at Riftan as if in challenge.
After a brief moment of silence, Sejuleu Aren chuckled. “How could I refuse? It would be my honor, my lady.”
Finally looking away from her husband, Maxi met her escort’s dark green eyes. To her relief, he did not seem to be simply humoring her.
He took her hand and gallantly led her to the dance floor. Placing his hand on her waist, he began gracefully moving to the music.
Maxi quickly realized her mistake. She had completely forgotten that she had never danced with anyone in her life. It took all her concentration to avoid stepping on Sejuleu’s foot, leaving her with little attention to spare toward Riftan’s reaction.
Blushing with embarrassment, she stammered, “F-Forgive me. I-It completely slipped my mind… that I have never danced at a ball.”
“Then it is an honor to be your first dance partner. Just relax and follow my lead. I shall ensure your first dance is a great success.”
With a wide grin, Sejuleu Aren skillfully spun her around, miraculously guiding her back into position. Maxi gripped his shoulder and focused on her steps, determined not to stumble. As she grew accustomed to the dance, she stole a glance at Riftan and caught him silently observing the dangerous game she was playing.
Disappointment welled inside her. She had hoped he would whisk her away in a fit of burning jealousy, but he remained motionless beside the column even as the gentle serenade ended and a new melody began. Tears threatened to spill from Maxi’s eyes.
“Th-This will do. I think… I’ve had enough dancing for today.”
“Ah… Delightful moments always end too soon,” Sejuleu Aren remarked as he led her to a small table laden with drink. Maxi took a sip of the warmed wine, her gaze returning to Riftan, only to find him gone.
Her eyes flitted around the room, but there was no sign of him. Stunned, Maxi had to bite down on her lip to fight her tears. She could not believe that he had simply left.
“I-I have done something foolish.”
“Lady Calypse-“
Visibly startled, Sejuleu hastily offered her his handkerchief.
Maxi dabbed her eyes with it, saying glumly, “I-It would seem Riftan has lost all affection for me.”
“I can assure you, my lady, that is not true in the slightest. I’m certain he has his reasons.”
“A-And what might those be?”
“They…” Sejuleu Aren trailed off with a troubled expression.
Maxi cast her eyes down. She did not wish to embarrass herself any further. Mustering a forced smile, she said, “I-If it is all right with you… I would like to retire now.”
“Allow me to escort you back to your chamber.”
“P-Please don’t trouble yourself. I do not wish to ruin your evening more than I already have.”
“Nonsense, you have done no such thing,” he insisted. “It is my duty to ensure your safe return. One moment, I shall go retrieve my coat.”
Before Maxi could object, the knight strode off to speak to a servant. However, he was interrupted by someone on his way back.
Sejuleu gave her an apologetic look and began conversing with the man. It must be an urgent matter, Maxi assumed. Releasing a small sigh, she turned toward the door. She knew it was impolite, but after making a complete fool of herself tonight, all she wanted was to be alone.
The moment she trudged into the corridor, a strong arm yanked her into a dark corner. Maxi gasped in surprise, her wide eyes flying up to meet Riftan’s stony expression.
He grabbed her by the waist, hoisted her off the floor, and brought his face close to hers. Fear and anticipation coursed through her. His breath, tinged with the scent of wine, teasingly brushed against her lips.
“Why do you look surprised?” His voice was chillingly gentle.
“Wasn’t this what you wanted? To provoke me to anger?”
