Secret Love Affair between a Former Saint and a Dark Hero - Chapter 39 - A Glorious Gala

Inside the room was a woman humming a tune and a man with a serious countenance.

“Ovid, look at this bird. Isn’t it adorable?”

“Arcanda, since when have you liked silver?”

“Well, it’s just something that grew on me suddenly. It sparkles so brightly, like the moon. I like it.”

A subtle change came over the face of the Crown Prince. He studied the girl who was to become his companion carefully, wondering if he hadn’t read something hidden within her.

Then, he shook his head. That couldn’t be possible.

“Arcanda, have you heard the news?”

“Hmm? What news? What happened?”

Iora hasn’t been seen at the mansion. Since that day, with your friends.

As he was about to say so, the crown prince closed his mouth. For goodness’ sake. It was because the memory came flooding back. Cheap sympathy. His loyal knight’s words were correct. If he couldn’t fully help, he shouldn’t have extended a hand. Offering empty concern was cruel.

“It’s nothing. Is the debutante ball preparation going well?”

He shook off the awkward emotion swirling inside him as he looked at the bright smile of the radiant future saint.

* * *

Iora slowly opened her eyes, grasping her brother’s arm as she walked. As the clock struck, the door opened, drawing the attention of those around them as their family descended the stairs.

Iora scanned the room for Ovid and Arcanda out of habit, but they were still nowhere in sight. With each step in her strapped shoes, she fought through the sharp pain in her swollen ankles, trying not to wobble.

“Don’t even dream of sticking around for the entire ball.”

“…”

Her brother’s voice was devoid of affection, and Iora dared not argue. Even if she were to become a decorative wallflower, she had no intention of enduring the constant pain of staying by his side.

The gala was extraordinarily splendid since there had never been two saint candidates before. The music from the orchestra was grand, and the sparkling chandeliers were overwhelming. The floor of the opulent ballroom gleamed like polished gold, with both sides having banquet tables laden with sumptuous dishes. Extravagant wine fountains soared in the areas where nobles mingled and chatted.

‘It feels more like a celebration of imperial grandeur than it does the birthday of a saint.’

It was a scene from the original novel, which now seemed like a distant memory.

「 This grand gala was exceptional. It was both Arcanda and Iora’s birthday celebration, yet everyone knew it was a debutante ball held to honor Arcanda. Suddenly, the chamberlain’s voice rang out.

“Announcing the entrance of His Highness, the radiant little sun, Prince Ovid von Juste Wilhelm, and the blessed breath of God, Arcanda, the beloved daughter of Viscount von Illanys!”

All eyes turned toward them in admiration. It was as though a princess and a prince from a fairy tale had stepped out hand in hand. They were an inseparable, perfectly matched pair.

Nobles gazed upon Arcanda’s softly smiling face, convinced she was indeed the future saint.

It was evident that tonight’s ball was going to be a success. The beautiful couple that entered were clearly looking at each other with eyes filled with love.」

“Don’t get into any trouble today. Unless you want to get in trouble!”

“…Yes, Father.”

Her father growled and began exchanging greetings with high-ranking noblemen, while her mother elegantly strolled toward where her circle of party members had gathered, fluttering her fan. Swallowing his irritation, my brother glanced around, then strode casually to join the group of young lords.

“…”

With that, Iora was left alone. Before lowering her head in desolation, she could sense numerous eyes on her. It was unsettling. Nobles were overly interested in others’ affairs, especially if one of the main characters of the event happened to be a prime target for gossip.

‘Tsk, they’re trying to cover it up, but… that lovely lavender dress seems like a waste. She’s far too thin.’

‘What about that ghastly pallor that no amount of powder can hide? Was the rumor true? How could a candidate for sainthood do such a disgraceful thing?’

‘She’s a pathetic junkie, isn’t she? Well, that kind of woman can’t possibly be a saint.’

Even though they came together, her family discarded her immediately and hadn’t looked back even once. Iora knew she would be treated like this at the ball. She felt herself shrinking smaller and smaller and smaller.

‘It feels like being crushed under the foot of a giant.’

She squeezed her eyes shut and opened them. The scene from would soon unfold, and she needed to pull herself together. If she managed to slip away unnoticed to the terrace, she might avoid the stares of people without any problem.

Finally, the awaited moment arrived. The orchestra momentarily ceased, and the nervous chamberlain loudly announced:

“Announcing the entrance of His Highness, the radiant little sun, Prince Ovid von Juste Wilhelm, and the blessed breath of God, Arcanda, the beloved daughter of Viscount von Illanys!”