86: The approaching end of old deceit (part 2)

The approaching end of old deceit (part 2)

The grand celebration in the Archduke's manor was a spectacle of magnificence. The air was filled with the melodious strains of music, peals of laughter, and the enticing aroma of delectable delicacies. Yet, amidst the splendor, all eyes were on Bastian von Conradie and Adelaide de Lanark, the subject of fervent whispers and curious speculation.2

"Excuse me?" Adela asked, her voice tinged with surprise.

"...I was merely expressing my admiration for how stunning you look in that dress," Bastian replied smoothly.

Adela's maroon dress clung to her body and accentuated her curves. The rich, velvety fabric boasted a subtle sheen under the bright light, the neckline, modest yet alluring, framed her slender neck and collarbones, while the fitted waistline emphasized her slender figure, and the skirt cascaded down in soft pleats that pooled around her feet as she glided across the ballroom floor.

"...A part of me envies him for finding you first," 

Adela's heart skipped a beat as she processed his words. Did he truly mean what he said? Or was it merely playful banter? She searched his face, looking for any indication of his true intentions, she was relieved when she found a boyish smile.

"If he ever mistreated you, you see, then it would be a fair competition between us."

Adela's cheeks flushed, both embarrassed and amused. Bastian's words hinted at a familiarity between her and Egon as if they were already a couple. She stammered, trying to find the right words to respond.

"About that... We... He has not..." Adela's voice trailed off as she struggled to articulate her thoughts. In her flustered state, she missed a step, twisting her ankle slightly. However, Bastian, ever the skilled dancer, swiftly adjusted his movements, saving her from a potential stumble. He guided her in a playful twirl, masking any hint of her momentary misstep.

Concern laced his voice as he asked, "Is your foot okay?"

Adela forced a smile, dismissing her minor discomfort. "Yes, it's fine," 

The guests, who had been discreetly observing the interaction between Adela and Bastian, openly gawked now.

The momentary pause in their dance coincided with the start of a new song, and for no particular reason, Adela's gaze was pulled to the wall at the far end of the room, that was when she saw him.

Egon stood with a drink in his hand, his expression unreadable until their eyes locked. A wave of coldness emanated from him as he stared at Adela, his disapproval and disdain evident. 

What is wrong with him now?

She returned her attention to Bastian, "You are a great dancer," she remarked as they resumed their waltz.

He smiled in response. "Only when my partner is as good as you."

Adela let a playful teasing enter her voice. "You should give the other ladies here a chance."

Bastian chuckled, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "I'm afraid none of them is my type."

"...And what is your type?"

He shrugged lightly. "Women who are neither repulsed by nor afraid of me."

His words struck a chord, causing a brief pang of sympathy within Adela. Bastian's scar may have been the initial striking feature about him, but as she spent more time in his company, she found herself overlooking it. 

"Well, that is a given," she mused, "The lack of intelligence is a turn-off for both genders."

As they continued to sway in rhythm, Adela's attention drifted back to Egon who had quickly downed his drink and promptly grabbed another from a passing tray carried by a maid.

Is he planning on getting drunk this evening!

Her eyes drifted to find Arkin staring at her while he danced with the princess, concern etched on his face. He subtly pointed with his head towards his right, drawing her attention.

Following his gaze, she spotted Baron Gustave in a similar state as Egon, if not worse. He had stopped the maid from circulating with the drinks and was consuming them all by himself.

Sensing the need to intervene, Adela and Arkin excused themselves from the dance simultaneously, making their way toward the two men engrossed in their indulgence.

Egon's eyes seemed to grow colder as she approached, and the butterflies in her stomach transformed from excitement to apprehension.

"Egon," she called out.

Just then, a drunk noblewoman accidentally bumped into her, causing Adela to stumble forward. Her arm grazed Egon's, and he recoiled as if he had been burned by a searing mana stone.

Adela instinctively took a step back, creating a distance between them. "Egon?"

He sighed, his voice tinged with annoyance. "Now is not a good time."

She swallowed the lump in her throat, "...Tonight is important for Larissa and Andreas. Perhaps you should go easy on the alcohol," she suggested.

He turned his back on her and walked away, his rejection hitting her heart hard, especially when his eyes seemed to convey a different story.

As she contemplated following him, a commotion behind her caught her attention. She glanced back to see Arkin and the Baroness in a state of fluster. The Baron had consumed too much alcohol, and his behavior was becoming increasingly erratic. Arkin, with a mix of concern and embarrassment, attempted to guide his father away from the festivities and toward the nearest balcony. 

She turned around once again, ignoring the shooting pain in her ankle, and limped after Egon, who had already exited the celebration hall with his long strides.

She expected to search for him for a while before finding him, but to her surprise, she spotted him the moment she reached the door of the hall. He was standing outside the nearest guest room, his hands tightly clenched around something that glimmered under the bright chandelier light.

As he stared intensely at something within the room, small fragments of green stones slipped from his tightly clenched hand and scattered onto the ground.

The brooch?

His gaze, a beastly fusion of ruby and black, seethed with a peculiar blend of hatred and resentment as it locked onto Adela's eyes.

Adela preserved her dignified stance, her chin held high, refusing to allow him the privilege of mistreating her in such a manner, especially not at this critical moment. Yet, as his gaze intensified seething with even greater intensity, she swiftly pivoted and steadily retraced her steps to her table, determined to shield Larissa's joy from any further disturbance.

One question lingered persistently in Adela's mind, haunting her throughout the remainder of the night in which Egon never returned: What was happening in that room?

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