Our relationship started with a sweet kiss, but there was a problem—I was afraid that the emperor and empress might notice us. It was true that they were foolish people, but they were also avaricious people mad for power. If it became known to them that the crown prince who threatened their position was dating me—the lady of the Floyen household—either one of them would try to get rid of us. As there was no need to create a problem, I had asked Max to keep our relationship a secret for the time being. He was disapproving of my suggestion initially but later became somewhat convinced.

"I understand. It might put you in danger… so we will do that," he had said. After a short chat, he covered his face with the mask again and jumped off the terrace. I didn't mind that he didn't look back to say goodbye. It was just a momentary farewell. I was confident that we would reunite again as we always did.

'I must return to the banquet hall as well.' There were no familiar faces once I returned into the grandiose hall. It seemed all my friends were with Bea. I was confident that they would approach Bea without hesitation as they were all destined to be friends with her in the original story. Still, I couldn't deny that I was a little concerned.

'Should I say goodbye to them before leaving?'

It was now dusk, and it would be a perfect time to bid farewell. Just then, I realized someone was approaching me and hardened my face. It was Mikhail again. We had parted on bad terms the last time we met, and I was worried that he might say something strange to me again. I had already braced myself to hold an argument with him. Nevertheless, he passed me by, treating me like I was invisible.

'Huh? What was that?'

I watched him in amazement as he grew far away then frowned. It was clear that he had fallen in love with Beatrice, consistent with the original writing. Such a thing was natural—he had fallen in love with her during the banquet and broke off our engagement, after all. It was up to Bea to accept or reject his confession, and that would depend on how far Mikhail was willing to go to win her heart. I sighed and hoped that Bea would make the best decision.

"Jubelian," a familiar voice called just then. I had no idea when he approached me, but rather than becoming startled, I giggled.

'At least I know one thing for sure.'

My father gave me a strange look in response to my laugh. He then held out his hand. "It has gotten late. Let's head back."

I took his hand without hesitation. I felt comfortable and safe once I felt the warmth of his hand. Walking like this with my father used to be awkward, but now I was used to it. I glanced at my father, to which he met my eyes. I realized he only seemed indifferent and cold on the surface.

I experienced many things today. The most important lesson I learned was that avoiding a problem might give rise to more of them. Therefore, rather than running away from him, I decided to get to know my father better. Although I would have to put a lot of effort into doing so, I resolved to live my life the way I wanted to from now on.

* * *

Mikhail turned around, his violet eyes full of thirst for the lady.

'Jubelian.'

The moment he saw the very person he had been dreaming of, he had almost lost control of himself. However, there was a reason he had to suppress his desires.

'I need to be patient for now.'

Turning around, Mikhail stared at the highest seat in the hall—the throne. There sat a status-seeking fool who did not belong there, looking down at the nobles dancing and chatting away.

'To destroy the duke, I must gain the emperor's trust first,' Mikhail smirked.

* * *

In the end, I left the banquet hall without saying goodbye to Bea. Still, I didn't think it would be a problem. I decided that it might be better for the ladies to get to know each other rather than me intervening. I then sighed as I should be worrying more about myself.

Although I had ambitiously vowed to improve my relationship with my father, I hadn't said a word to him. We were sitting in the carriage in silence. Glancing at him, I wondered, 'How am I supposed to talk with him?'

I recalled the small number of times we chatted before.

"Father, there is something I need to speak to you about. Do you have time?"

"Father, this is the pendant you left behind."

Seriously, it was not just my father who had been indifferent to me. It was me as well! I had only talked to him whenever I had a reason. Desperate, I began thinking of ways to improve our relationship. Just then, he sighed and asked, "Is there something you want to say?"

I flinched at his excellent mind-reading ability. There were a lot of things I wanted to say, but I didn't know where to begin. In any case, I didn't want to miss my opportunity and asked, "Oh, I was just wondering… What did you do at the ball today?"

He looked out the window. "Hm, I can't recall anything important. It seems I just killed some time."

Not wanting our conversation to end, I continued. "Ah, I see. But there was a lot to see today, wasn't there? I heard there was even a short performance."

He didn't bother to turn around to meet my eyes. "Was there? I see."

My endeavors were futile as he was only giving me short answers. Realizing all my efforts were in vain, I gave my father a death stare then sighed. Holding a conversation with him was more difficult than I had imagined.