Everyone's chattering, the hall is filled with laughter, gossip, and talks of drama.
There, the center of all—The King.
He sits on his mighty chair, staring at his people with his face still full with remorse for what he did.
In his mind, lives a saying: Don't make a mistake. It keeps repeating every time he makes a decision, whether small or big. Every time he's somewhere, whether private or public.
Every noble knows, every person knows, he regrets. He is consumed by a guilty conscience.
Despite all that, his people appreciate him for finally opening his eyes and taking responsibility for all the damage he caused. Though the biggest loss can't be revived.
"May the Lord bless you, Your Majesty." A noble woman curtsy, her greeting sent.
"Yes. You may rise." The King replies.
And so the greeting of each noble keeps on, continuing until it's time for the first round of dance.
Christian, standing at the corner is asked to dance by ladies. Yet he refuses, thinking it's pointless. Laine's supposed to go with him tonight, but he's still recovering. His mind races again, his index finger tapping the glass of wine he's holding.
At another round of corners, stands a tall man wearing what's supposed to be a duke's attire. In fact, he is a duke.
After the Guttensberg Family's massacre, the Wycliffe Family rose to a higher rank. They are now the ones who 'faithfully' serve the King after the once-honored family.
Duke Wycliffe, observing people from the corner, searches for a certain someone. People around him feel uncomfortable because of his stare.
No one ever figures out this man, no one ever tries to approach him first. Since he is now known for being loyal to the King, though he can't replace the Grand Duke who was once in his place.
"Duke Wycliffe, long time no see!" An unknown voice greets him in joy.
'no one ever tries to approach him first.'
Except for this guy, Thomas Vienna. A marquess who specializes in business and manages the finances of the Kingdom.
"Marquess Vienna." Duke Wycliffe replies in a friendly manner, though they aren't close—they are in good terms.
"Many ladies are waiting for you, you know? Maybe it's time for you to finally listen to your father perhaps?" Marquess Vienna chuckles at his own joke.
Duke Wycliffe smiles in response,
"No, no. I'll never intend to marry someone and I'm actually carrying out an order right now. So, see you later."
Marquess Vienna flinches, receiving a sign of refusal from Duke Wycliffe's words and tone.
Duke Wycliffe, who managed to escape from what he calls an annoyance is now reaching towards the balcony. As he walks, a woman who has quick pace bumps into him.
His body flinches, when he looks down as to who—he sees a woman with soft red lips and wistful eyes. Her light brown hair is elegantly pinned up, and she wears ornate gold jewelry with teal gemstones. Dressed in dark, flowing fabric with lace near her collar.
"Apologize, Your Grace! I swear I didn't mean to-" The woman quickly explains herself with panics flooding her voice.
"It's fine, there's no scratch." He says, and walks away.
Finally, Duke Wycliffe arrives at the balcony.
"The wind is fresh tonight," he whispers, his voice as calm as the wind itself.
At another sight of a balcony, a white-haired boy stands—also in need of a calming wind. The gentle breeze brushes against his face, making a few loose strands of hair dance in the air.
"Mother would love this.. She would." He mutters to himself, remembering his mother again.
"Laine! How many times do I need to tell you? Don't get exposed to cold wind!" The doctor demands, and so Laine obeys.
"You can be discharged tomorrow, but you still need to look for yourself."
Laine's face lights up in excitement,
"Okay!" Finally, for what feels like decades, he can go practice swinging his dagger again.
The sun rises, the curtains softly filter the light, letting it spill into the room like liquid gold. Laine opens his eyes to find a man of uniform sitting beside his bed.
"Commander!" Laine shouts, waking the man in his sleep.
He falls from his bed trying to stand up and salute.
"No need for that. Gosh, it's early in the morning. Don't yell." Christian groans, tired from last night's imperial ball.
A few moments later, Laine's walking towards the Official Ranking's room. He comes across the empty space again, this time he's aware. But the flower isn't there anymore. As much as he wants to see his mother again, he too needs to consider his health.
When he arrives at the room, there are people other than Commander Christian. They each ask Laine questions to be answered.
'They seem to not know my background.. Does Christian keep that information to himself?' Laine presumes.
When the session is over, the room only has two people inside.
"You keep the information about me to yourself, how greedy." Laine surmise.
"Would you like only one person to hold the information or everyone to hold it? I'm sure you know which one's better."
Christian's words silence Laine.
"Right, congratulations on becoming the Vice Commander, isn't it beneficial for you?" The man says while the other is furious.
"Yeah, right. This must be another part of your plan, no?"
Silence is in the room again.
"Thank you, though. I know you didn't mean in a good way, but I get to meet him soon because of you." Laine says sincerely, then walks away from the room.
Christian watches Laine as he walks away and sighs in relief.