Chapter 22

First greetings, and first impressions. They were of utmost importance.

But she didn’t know.

What truly made the biggest impact during a first encounter wasn’t either of those things – it was rumors.

‘Huh? What’s going on with them?’

She had merely greeted them, and yet the noble young ladies turned pale as a group. Isabella glanced back, puzzled.

‘There’s nothing there? Ah! They must be nervous because it’s almost time to enter!’

Her confusion at the empty corridor quickly passed. She glanced at the massive entrance to the banquet hall, at least twice her height, and came to her own conclusion.

‘Well, I’m nervous too. I’m sure they’re just the same.’

With a calm smile, she asked the attendant nearby, “I’m supposed to enter with these ladies, right? Should I line up at the end of the row?”

When she looked over at the young noblewomen standing in two lines without partners, the attendant’s hand trembled as he pointed to the second line.

“Y-Yes, right here is fine.”

“Got it! Thank you.”

Isabella beamed brightly, delighted to finally be joining the group, and stepped toward the second line. But just then, the pink-haired lady already standing in that line suddenly stepped back into the row behind.

“Thanks for yielding your spot.”

Isabella thanked her, but the girl flinched, lowered her head, and shook it furiously without saying a word. Her odd behavior did raise some suspicion, but Isabella was too giddy with anticipation to dwell on it for long.

‘Shy, maybe? But wow, seeing them up close, these girls are gorgeous. No wonder Citri was so infatuated with me.’

Her gaze drifted toward the two ladies in front of her, whom she had glimpsed while walking up.

‘Who were they again…? Oh! I remember!’

The key figures Amon had shown her while preparing for the debutante ball. One had short, crimson hair like a wildcat and sharp amber eyes, intense, like she was constantly on edge.

‘That must be Lady Diana Cherville, the only daughter of Marquis Cherville. Which means… the other must be Lady Camilla Juvel from the House of Juvel.’

Next to her stood a young lady with flowing beige hair and emerald eyes, dignified like a well-bred housecat. Isabella smiled faintly.

‘Her portrait didn’t do her justice. More than that… they look oddly alike.’

Both exuded an aura so powerful it was hard not to notice,  but while similar, their energies clashed in interesting ways.

‘Could I ever become friends with girls like this?’

Naturally drawn to anything beautiful or radiant, Isabella found herself fascinated by them.

But then… 

Pwoooo!

“The Roots of April shall now enter!”

A loud whistle rang out, followed by a herald’s voice echoing from beyond the closed doors of the banquet hall.

It seemed the entrance from the east wing, used by the young noblemen, was opening first, not the west wing where they stood.

The atmosphere turned restless.

Noble ladies made last-minute adjustments to their attire, while knights and attendants rushed to prepare for the entrance. A few minutes later, another sharp whistle blew, and the tightly shut doors finally opened with a resonant creak as the voice rang out again.

“The Flowers of April shall now enter!”

Clack!

Almost as if on cue, every young lady around her opened their fan and raised it to cover their mouths.

Was it the crowd mentality? Isabella hurriedly followed suit, snapping open her fan and stepping into the banquet hall behind the two girls at the front And just then, through the tiny perforations in her black veil, dazzling lights burst through like a flood.

She instinctively shut her eyes from the glare. When she opened them again, she couldn’t help but be awestruck.

The chandeliers, shaped like flowing water, cast brilliant light that reflected off the white marble, brightening the hall in a radiant glow. Adorned with red drapery and vibrant flowers of every color, the space resembled the lush, sunlit garden of the gods.

Isabella instinctively tightened her grip on the fan in her hand.

‘Yes, this is it! This is what sunlight feels like!’

A place filled with warmth, no shadows, only the heat of human life.

She thought of the black mansion shrouded in clouds all year round, cloaked in darkness. Her chest swelled with emotion. But the awe didn’t last long.

Just as applause erupted and admiring gazes fell on the girls making their entrance, a different noise crept in.

“Oh my! So it’s true, the crow really is attending!”

‘Crow?’

Isabella had sharp hearing, so she caught the whispers loud and clear.

“Oh no! What if her curse ruins this year’s debutante?”

“Shhh! Don’t say that so loudly! What if she hears and curses us?”

“Don’t look her in the eyes!”

“It’ll be fine… right? Surely she wouldn’t cause harm in a place full of people…”

“Do you really think her family cares about things like that?”

“Ugh… it’s terrifying. Why is someone like her even here? She’s clearly out of her depth.”

“Exactly. She’s just a nuisance.”

Unsettling murmurs.

What had started as whispers quickly spread, contaminating the hall like a wave.

Isabella glanced around uneasily, then leaned toward the brown-haired girl standing beside her and asked in a hushed voice, “Is there a cursed family here? Or one that casts curses? I’m not really up to date on rumors, so I was wondering if you might know.”

Though her face was hidden by the veil, her eyes blinked innocently, filled with pure curiosity. But what came next was nothing like she expected.

“Ah, um, th-that’s… hup… hwaaah!”

The girl, trembling with fear, burst into tears and collapsed on the floor. It was an utterly bewildering scene.

Still, Isabella hastily took out a handkerchief and tried to console her.

“Are you alright, my lady? Crying will ruin your pretty face. I don’t know what I said wrong, but please here, use this to wipe your tears–”

“Eek! D-Don’t touch me!”

Smack!

As if swatting away a disgusting bug, the girl struck her hand, sending the black handkerchief to the ground. Holding her stinging hand, Isabella looked around in dazed confusion.

Fear. Disgust. Avoidance. Contempt.

Every gaze in the room was now focused solely on her, brimming with those exact emotions. As if she were the one to blame.

Only then did Isabella realize – she was the subject of the rumors swirling moments ago.

‘Why? Why is everyone looking at me like that? I’ve never… I’ve never even used a curse before…’

Is this how it feels to be cast out from the group?

She was terrified. All she had wanted was connection, curiosity, a chance at new relationships. But those cold stares seemed to mock her for ever hoping for such things.

‘Mom… Dad…’

She missed her family.

Now she understood why Hilda had been so firmly against this. Being caught in the crossfire of baseless rumors and prejudice was a frightening ordeal.

Her legs trembled. Instinctively, she began stepping back. And then, she bumped into someone behind her.

Startled, she turned. And saw a familiar face.

“Your Grace…?”

It was Cedric, his expression even more grim than usual, clearly displeased at the sudden collision.

“What’s all this commotion?”

“Ah, well…”

His voice was calm but heavy with quiet authority. Isabella, gripping her aching hand, quickly shook her head and forced a cheerful tone.

“It’s nothing at all. I suppose everyone’s just nervous. It is their one and only debutante, after all. Please excuse their clumsy mistakes. I’m sure things will settle down shortly.”

“…”

Cedric’s teal eyes narrowed further, displeased as she subtly shifted her body to hide the crying girl behind her.

Just facing his gaze made her lips feel dry, as if the rouge had vanished.

After a short pause, Cedric looked around the hall and spoke in a low, clear warning.

“Don’t cause a stir over groundless nonsense.”

Though they had spoken a few times at the ducal estate, this was the first time she’d heard him speak in such a commanding tone. It startled her more than she expected.

“His Majesty will arrive shortly. Return to your places.”

And with that, he bent down, picked up her fallen handkerchief, and left in his usual blunt manner. Isabella stood there, staring blankly at his retreating figure.

‘Did he… just help me?’

Had he stepped in to restore order, or was it to help her?

His actions were unclear, ambiguous. And yet, the stinging sensation in her palm from being struck began to spread upward, as if warming her arm in a strange, fluttering way.

“Their Majesties, Emperor Albert and Empress Lania, Crown Prince Caesar, and Crown Princess Venetia are entering!”

Before she could fully process the odd sensation, the royal family’s grand entrance swiftly subdued the restless hall. And so, that strange and lingering warmth had to be set aside for now.

— — — 

Soon after, the debutante ball began in earnest with a brief opening speech from the Emperor.

“My beautiful lady, would you grant me the honor of this dance?”

“It’s been a while. If you’d be so kind, may I be your partner today? Just like before, I’ll make sure you shine the brightest.”

“It seems I came here tonight just to meet a flower like you. Might I have the honor of your company?”

Unlike other balls that began with the royals, the debutante ball was a tradition for newly minted young nobles. Here, the young men and women, often peers or betrothed couples, would form partnerships on the spot and share their first dance.

Like bees swarming toward a flower in full bloom, the young men roamed the ballroom, each searching for his perfect match.

It was lively. Almost chaotic.

Everywhere, except for the space where Isabella stood.

……

T/N: That’s the worst feeling T_T