MBSGBC 19

Chapter 19

‘That expression. I feel like I’ve seen it before.’

My chest tickled, so I deliberately turned my gaze away. The sound of him letting out a soft laugh reached my ears.

“……What brings you here today?”

“The famous Lady Hautreha. I hear you’ve recently started a fabric business?”

“It’s not enough to call it a business. I just hired a few people and set up a small workshop.”

I had sought out the technicians who, in my past life, had been employed by the Ocker Trading Company, and signed employment contracts with them. Since I offered better terms than what they had contracted for in my past life, it was a way of repaying their loyalty.

“Clothes that touch the body directly, like undergarments—anyone would want to wear something softer, wouldn’t they? For now, I’m focusing on that and supplying…… What’s with that look?!”

“I was just wondering if you’re wearing that kind of clothing right now.”

“That’s obviously…….”

“Can I touch it?”

“Here? No!”

“If not here, then where?”

“Ugh.”

I didn’t need a mirror to know. My face right now was completely bright red.

Leon Voltain seemed determined to seduce me. The man, smiling bewitchingly, leaned his head on my shoulder and whispered in my ear.

The feeling of Leon’s breath touching me, the scent of snow seeping from his cold coat—it made my head go blank.

“Are all the fabrics sold at your shop soft? I’d like to check.”

“I-I’ll send you a few rolls next time! Personally, um, I’d recommend making a shirt.”

Leon clicked his tongue with a bored expression and shook his head.

“You said you’d take responsibility for me.”

“You can’t say things like that here!”

“Then, in exchange, you’ll have to escort me to this royal ball.”

As he finished speaking, Leon held out a lavish invitation envelope. I hurriedly checked the seal. A sun, a dragon, and a lion. The date was a month away, when winter would be at its peak.

“Why do you have an invitation to the royal ball?”

“They told me to deliver it to you.”

“Who?”

“Isabella.”

I took a moment to deeply consider what wrong I had committed.

Lucian popped a sweet cookie into my mouth as I pressed my forehead.

“They say to bring the child too.”

My blood ran cold. Taking a child who didn’t even know what malice was into the very center of that cutthroat social world, to a royal ball—it was no different from telling me to become the sole target of every arrow in the world.

But……

‘Yes. Hiding away won’t solve anything.’

This was a life I was living a second time anyway.

This time, it was my turn to step back out into the world, my way.

“……If I can’t avoid it, I’ll have to do it properly.”

A few days later, I sent a letter and a gift to Princess Isabella.

* * *

If setting the impression of a ball is the host’s sense, then Princess Isabella’s sense could be called exceedingly outstanding.

The garden was dazzlingly splendid. Trees and flowers that became unsightly in winter had all been neatly cleared away, and between the sparsely arranged evergreens of fresh color, enormous ice sculptures—appearing twice the height of an adult man—interwove with each other, creating a fantastical landscape.

Lucian, who had been extremely nervous when getting out of the carriage, quickly had his whole attention stolen by the garden. I let Lucian look around the garden to his heart’s content. I thought it would be far better than being overly tense.

Thanks to that, our entrance was only officially announced after Lucian’s excitement had calmed somewhat.

The small child, as if completely unaware of the cold, looked around the garden for quite a while, and only after entering the ballroom—which was not just warm but almost hot—did he stomp his feet saying he was cold. Leon lifted the child, who had been clutching my skirt hem, and settled him in one arm.

“Will you be alright?”

To my question, he answered calmly.

“What does it matter. He’s mine.”

We, having whispered softly, stepped into the ballroom where bright light was lavishly cast.

“Prince Leon of Voltain, and Lady Irina of Hautreha.”

When the gatekeeper called out the names, the gazes of the ballroom all turned to the entrance at once.

The murmurs filling the hall rippled like candles hit by wind.

A silence mixed with consternation filled the ballroom.

“Holding a bastard child…….”

“Such an unprecedented act……!”

Naturally, the gazes also turned to me, who was being escorted by him.

Today, I was in perfect condition.

Rita, looking almost like a veteran warrior, had pulled out every jewelry box in the house, held each one to my ears and neck, and cried out “Not this one!” several times. I, feeling like shouting “I’m sorry!”, quietly accepted her passion with my whole body.

Even if it wasn’t perfect, I could confidently say the best possible result within our means had been achieved.

But my trump card was hidden here, beneath the thick fur coat.

A servant who had approached bowed before me. It was a servant dedicated to handling guests’ coats, the kind present at any ball of this caliber. I received his service while trying to maintain an elegant posture.

Beneath the white fur coat, a green dress was revealed.

At a glance, it would have seemed ordinary and unremarkable.

However, when the ballroom’s light flowed following a moving person, the texture of the fabric changed. A faint blue gleamed between the layered folds, and each time the angle changed, gold briefly poked its head out.

Anyone who watched without taking their eyes off for even a moment would understand.

A fabric that reflected multiple colors according to a person’s movements, making the wearer look like a jewel.

At this level, it wasn’t excessive.

But it was memorable enough.

I straightened my posture, enduring the gazes.

Right now, I was essentially a promotional model for this fabric. I had to look as elegant and beautiful as possible.

Please, let my nervousness be well hidden.

I pretended to be calm and placed my hand on Leon’s arm. I could feel his arm muscles stiffening. When I raised my head to look, Leon’s eyes were sunken in a deeper blue than usual.

“Acting cute.”

Leon let out a soft laugh as he looked at me pretending to be elegant.

When Lucian whispered something in his ear, the man nodded. The child, having obtained his father’s agreement, flushed his cheeks and smiled. At the familial and affectionate sight rarely seen from a high-ranking nobleman, a suppressed gasp burst out.

* * *

“Duke Voltain.”

The first to approach us were a few gentlemen. Most of them desperately pretended not to see Lucian. Well, of course—whatever they said would be awkward.

“Dad, this place is pretty!”

His eyes, looking around as if the ballroom’s music, whispering voices, and bright lights were all endlessly interesting, sparkled continuously. Lucian, as if wanting to share something fun with me, half-climbed out of Leon’s arms and reached his hand toward me.

Leon briefly excused himself to the gentlemen around him and approached me. When he set Lucian down nearby, the child came running with quick little steps and grabbed the hem of my dress. The child, completely wrapped in the sparkling fabric, was pretty like a jewel fragment fallen on silk.

Unlike the heartwarming scene, the atmosphere around us sank at a frightening speed. Someone withdrew their smile, someone set down their glass.

“As expected…….”

“So vulgar…….”

“……To keep him so close in public.”

Someone deliberately spread their fan wide open.

As if trying to hide the child and me.

Hoping Lucian wouldn’t understand the whispers gradually coming from around us, I smiled at the people pointing fingers at me.

And then, from among the crowd. Someone took a step closer to me.

“Madame Chastain.”

I politely bowed to the red-haired lady I recognized.

“Lady Hautreha.”

The gazes of those watching us were prickling. I didn’t need to ask what they expected. They surely wanted this social world’s punisher to chastise me, who had dared to lose my chastity before marriage and give birth to a bastard child.

“That’s a very impressive dress.”

The words that fell while everyone watched—it was impossible to tell whether they were praise or criticism.