NOVPUBRosaline quietly chuckled as she stood next to Ghislain.
"You’re quite popular today, Baron."
Ghislain sighed, his expression clearly showing his exhaustion.
"This kind of popularity? I can do without it. The way everyone is staring, I might end up with burns from all the heated glares."
"Well, they’ve just confirmed that my illness is cured and heard that my father has officially become your patron. They’re probably all restless, trying to hold themselves back. It’s only a matter of time before they come to you."
"And that’s exactly why I said the banquet wasn’t necessary. I’m just going to become even more famous now."
Seeing his grumbling, Rosaline laughed softly.
Opportunities like this banquet, where one could build connections across factions and hierarchies, were rare. Yet here was Ghislain, genuinely annoyed by it all. The more she observed him, the more fascinating she found him.
"Still, you should greet the people who came to see you."
"Yeah, I guess I should."
Ghislain sighed again, this time with a mix of resignation and frustration.
Whether he liked it or not, Ghislain was the star of the evening. Now that he had officially aligned with the royalist faction, it was only proper for him to greet those who had joined the gathering. At least all the key figures of the royalist faction were present, so he didn’t have to go around hunting them down individually.
However, deciding who to greet first was still a tricky problem.
‘There are three main factions here.’
Even within the royalist camp, there were different factions with their own interests and priorities. While they were united in their opposition to the ducal house of Delphine, their individual goals didn’t always align.
Ghislain scanned the room, identifying the key figures.
‘There’s Count Aylesbur and his wife. I know them.’
Led by Meriel, this faction controlled much of the capital’s commercial activities. They were a powerful group, wealthy beyond measure.
‘And that’s Count Billor Norton...’
The eldest son of the kingdom’s chancellor and a key figure in the kingdom’s judiciary, Count Billor represented the bureaucratic power within the royalist faction. Given his influence over the kingdom’s administration, his faction held considerable political sway.
‘And Marquis Maurice McQuarrie is here as well.’
As the commander of the kingdom’s military forces and the head of internal security, Marquis McQuarrie led the faction responsible for the kingdom’s military might. Most of the army's commanders followed him loyally.
‘The fact that such powerful figures are attending this banquet shows just how strong Marquis Branford’s influence is.’
Nearly all of the kingdom’s major power brokers were gathered here tonight. Together, they were the ones who truly controlled the powerful nation of Luthania.
While having such influential backing was undoubtedly beneficial, Ghislain couldn’t help but feel irritated by the responsibilities that came with it at this moment.
"Haa..."
Ghislain let out a long sigh. No matter who he greeted first, the others would likely feel slighted. And given the tremendous power these individuals wielded, making enemies of any of them could lead to major complications down the road.
Meriel caught his eye from across the room, hiding her smile behind her fan as she watched him, clearly amused.
‘Tch, must be fun to watch, huh?’
Shaking his head, Ghislain turned his gaze to Billor Norton, who was speaking quietly with the master of ceremonies and the capital’s mayor. When their eyes met, Billor smiled warmly. His affection for his niece, Rosaline, was well known, and it seemed Ghislain’s role in curing her had earned Billor’s favor. 𝓃𝓸𝓋𝓹𝓾𝓫.𝒸ℴ𝓶
To Billor’s right stood the bearded Marquis Maurice McQuarrie, arms crossed and watching the room with a serious expression.
‘Damn, that guy will be a pain if he gets upset.’
Even Marquis Branford seemed content to let Ghislain navigate this on his own, offering no intervention.
‘Fine, I’ll do it. Let’s get this over with.’
Ghislain made his decision and took a step forward, his every move closely watched by the entire hall.
He approached Count Aylesbur and greeted him first, as Aylesbur was the head of his faction, though Meriel held most of the real power.
"I am Baron Fenris. I look forward to working with you."
"Oh, yes, yes! It’s a pleasure to meet you. If you ever need my help, feel free to reach out."
"Thank you."
Aylesbur beamed with satisfaction. Of the faction leaders, he was often considered the least influential. But for Ghislain, who was being personally supported by Marquis Branford, to approach him first? It was a huge boost to his status.
It was a gift more valuable than any amount of gold or treasure, so much so that it made him forget the shriveled Mandragora root Ghislain had given him earlier.
"Haha, you’ve got some loyalty, I’ll give you that."
Meriel laughed, waving her fan playfully as Ghislain shrugged.
"Let’s keep things formal in public, shall we?"
"Oh, what does it matter? Either way, I appreciate you helping to save face for us."
Ghislain sighed, still grumbling.
"Who knew reputation was such a pain... This is exhausting."
"You’ll have to get used to it if you plan to establish yourself in the capital. And by the way, thanks for helping us out, but this will bring more trouble for you later."
Meriel subtly glanced in the direction of Marquis McQuarrie, who was glaring at Ghislain with barely concealed irritation.
"Ugh..."
The marquis let out a loud, deliberate cough, clearly displeased.
‘He’s the commander of the kingdom’s military, and I’m being ignored? How dare he!’
To make matters worse, Ghislain had greeted Count Aylesbur first, someone Maurice considered to be little more than a merchant. His irritation only deepened.
"Seems like a good-for-nothing who runs a business, huh? Well, let’s see if he’s smart enough to come to me second."
The nobles standing near Maurice tried to soothe him.
However, Ghislain, much to their dismay, approached Billor Norton next.
Billor, seemingly unfazed by being second, greeted Ghislain with a warm smile.
"Thank you so much for treating Rosaline. My wife was so worried that it was eating her up inside, but thanks to you, we can finally relax."
"I’m just glad things worked out."
"I also heard about your requests to the marquis regarding the slave traders and tax issues. I’ll see to it that those matters are handled quickly."
"Your consideration is much appreciated."
As the two conversed, Marquis McQuarrie’s face flushed with anger.
Being pushed aside like this, in front of all the capital’s elite, was a major blow to his pride. It was nothing short of public humiliation.
When Ghislain finally approached him, the marquis was seething.
"As the son of a count, you should have greeted the kingdom’s military commander first. But I suppose being from the northern provinces, you don’t know any better."
"I still have much to learn. I’ll look forward to your guidance."
Ghislain’s calm response only infuriated Maurice further. Grinding his teeth, he snapped back.
"Don’t get too cocky just because the Branford family is backing you. I could have you thrown out whenever I want."
"I’ll do my best to ensure that doesn’t happen."
"We’ll see."
With that, Ghislain returned to his seat, leaving Marquis McQuarrie fuming. The marquis, still visibly upset, repeatedly drained his glass in an effort to calm down. The other nobles around him rushed to placate him.
"It seems he’s just close with Countess Aylesbur."
"Don’t forget, Count Norton is related to Marquis Branford. I’m sure Baron Fenris had little choice."
As they attempted to calm the marquis, others began to edge away, sensing an opportunity to approach Ghislain.
The banquet had been intended to introduce Ghislain to the nobility, after all, and many were eager to make their own connections.
Rosaline, having returned to her seat, watched as Ghislain took a sip of water, lowering her voice to ask him.
"Was there a particular reason for the order in which you greeted them?"
"...I just went with my gut."
"Heh, it didn’t seem that way to me."
"But it’s true."
"Well, that fits you, I suppose."
Their conversation was cut short as nobles, noticing the shift in atmosphere, rushed over to greet Ghislain.
"It’s a pleasure to meet you, Baron Fenris."
"Please accept this small gift."
"I look forward to working with you. My name is..."
The nobles lined up to introduce themselves, some even offering gifts.
Naturally, Ghislain accepted everything.
Of course, most of these nobles weren’t approaching out of genuine respect. Their eyes hinted at thinly veiled disdain.
‘You may think you’re hot stuff now, but I’ll make sure to humble you later, you country bumpkin.’
‘A lowly merchant, that’s all you are.’
Few truly respected Ghislain, viewing him as little more than a tool to gain favor with Marquis Branford.
Ghislain, however, didn’t pay any mind to the undercurrents of contempt.
There was no point wasting energy on such meaningless interactions.
‘Ugh, I just want to go back and rest already.’
But as much as he hated it, leaving now wasn’t an option. He’d have to endure the fake smiles and pleasantries for a while longer.
Though he didn’t care much about his reputation, Ghislain wasn’t about to intentionally damage it either.
After the wave of noble introductions, a group of high-ranking noble ladies flocked toward Ghislain.
To them, he was the perfect catch.
Why be forced into an arranged marriage with some unsuitable suitor when they could target a young, newly rising baron instead?
‘Sure, his family isn’t great, and he’s from the provinces, but he’s still a lord, right? He’s young, handsome enough...’
‘The circumstances aren’t ideal, but with the Branford family backing him, he won’t be treated lightly.’
And so, they crowded around him, eager to strike up conversation.
"Baron, do you have a fiancée or... a lover?"
"No."
"Well, do you plan to get engaged or start dating someone soon?"
"No."
"Oh, come now, surely you must be joking!"
"No."
Ghislain, visibly irritated, answered bluntly, which only seemed to increase his appeal. The ladies, finding his straightforwardness refreshing compared to the usual flattery they received, giggled and continued asking questions.
Meanwhile, Rosaline, who had been pushed aside by the crowd of ladies, clenched her jaw behind her fan.
"Calm down, calm down... It’s a good day, so let’s not cause a scene... But these ill-mannered girls!"
Some were enjoying themselves, others were envious, some whispered behind their fans, and still others watched curiously. It was a scene typical of any noble gathering.
That is, until someone made an unexpected appearance.
The voice of the page guarding the door trembled as he announced a new arrival.
"...Viscount Joseph has arrived!"
The room fell silent instantly.
"Did I hear that right?"
"No way... He must have made a mistake."
Forcing awkward smiles, the nobles turned toward the entrance.
Tap... tap...
A gaunt, sharp-faced man entered the hall, walking slowly with the aid of a cane due to his severely bent leg.
But his physical disability did nothing to diminish the oppressive aura that radiated from him.
Tap... tap...
The only sound in the hall was that of his cane striking the floor.
Marquis Branford’s brow furrowed as he watched the man’s approach.
Ghislain’s face hardened as soon as he recognized the man.
He felt a surge of killing intent rise within him but suppressed it.
‘That bastard...’
Though this was the first time he had seen him in person, Ghislain knew the man’s name all too well.
Raoul Joseph, the "Limping Demon," was notorious for his devious schemes and cruelty, feared by his enemies.
He was the closest advisor to Duke Delphine and the strategist of the ducal household.
And now, he had appeared at a banquet hosted by their political rival, the royalist faction.
