"Lady, I am speaking more seriously now than ever before."
'Has this man truly lost his mind?'
Just as the engagement ceremony was about to begin, the lady, who had just heard Whitney's request to create a commotion in the ballroom, couldn't hide her bewilderment and couldn't help but think that way.
"There is no time, and you probably won't believe me, so I can't explain in detail, but if you don't paralyze the ballroom, many lives will be in danger."
"Hah."
However, despite Meredia's expression filled with firm refusal, Whitney was relentless.
"So just this once, please take a chance and help me. I assure you, you will not be held accountable."
The intensity in Whitney's eyes was even more serious than when she had nearly been poisoned at the tea party or when she had been threatened in the count's garden a week ago. It was enough to make Meredia's skeptical gaze waver slightly.
"It was supposed to be a condition of granting a trivial wish."
"I didn't want to use it now either. I had something else in mind to ask of you."
But only for a moment. When she pointed out the terms of the wish with a dissatisfied look, Whitney scratched his head briefly, then sighed and responded with a faint smile.
"But what could be more important than people's lives?"
Contrary to the message he wanted to convey, the smile that barely lifted the corners of his lips, combined with his serious expression, gave off an eerie aura.
"Even if you say that, what am I supposed to believe to take such a risk…?"
Just as the lady, who was starting to grow accustomed to Whitney's behavior, scoffed—
"If you really can't trust me, I'll just have to show you quickly."
"Ah."
It was then that Whitney swiftly snatched the glass of wine from a tray carried by a passing maid who had been trying to avoid him.
"T-That…"
"Why? Were you not serving drinks?"
"…M-My apologies."
The maid hesitated momentarily, flustered, before Whitney's chilling smile made her recoil. Bowing her head, she quickly scurried away.
"What are you suddenly doing in the middle of—"
Watching the scene warily, Meredia's gaze suddenly wavered.
Whoooosh…
Although it was a very faint amount, the wine glass in Whitney's hand was clearly reacting to his white magic, emitting black smoke.
"Do you believe me now?"
"…Ugh."
"Lady?"
Whitney, looking down at her as if he had expected this reaction, was about to speak with a triumphant expression.
"I get it… so just put that away."
"Ah."
Noticing that Meredia's face, which was unusually pale, was right in front of him, Whitney quickly regained his senses and hurriedly moved the glass away.
"Urgh…"
However, the damage was already done.
On the back of her right hand, where nothing had been visible a moment ago, a severe burn had appeared after being exposed to the dark magic.
'I never imagined she'd be this vulnerable to dark magic…'
Knowing that the hideous scar was the reason Meredia despised dark magic so much and was also the secret she most wanted to keep hidden, Whitney's expression darkened as well.
…
An awkward silence lingered for a moment.
Rustle…
Suddenly, Whitney pulled a handkerchief with his family crest from his pocket, silently approaching Meredia and wrapping it around her hand.
"I heard that it's trendy among young ladies these days to wear a lover's handkerchief around their hand or arm."
"…"
"Even though we're not in that kind of relationship, since we're engaged anyway, why not set the mood a little— Ouch."
Although Meredia unexpectedly stood still and let him wrap the handkerchief around her hand, as soon as Whitney made his playful remark, she scowled and pushed him away.
"I was just joking…"
"So, what was that dark magic just now? If you prepared this in advance again, I won't forgive you."
However, she did not remove the handkerchief from her hand. Returning to her usual cold demeanor, she questioned him.
"First of all, I am a white magician, so I cannot prepare dark magic. And if my guess is correct, that was a ritualistic dark spell meant to designate the drinker as a sacrifice."
"What do you mean? If that's true, there's no way no one would have noticed…"
As she looked around in disbelief at Whitney's response, something dawned on her, making her words trail off.
"…Now that I think about it, perhaps you're not as crazy as I thought."
She had just realized that, in a ballroom filled with the most influential figures from across the empire, not a single white magician was present.
"Lady, was it widely known that I would be attending this event today?"
"…You're not that significant a figure, and I practically forced your way in, so it's unlikely many people knew."
"Exactly."
Of course, except for Whitney, who was right in front of her.
"But there's no way the food and drinks used in an event like this would have been brought in without being inspected…"
"That's exactly it, Lady."
Even as she nitpicked, unable to easily trust his words, Meredia found herself at a loss for words when Whitney interrupted her.
"The very place where this engagement ceremony is being held—there is an enemy inside."
A brief silence settled between them.
"May I have everyone's attention!"
Amidst that silence, the voice of the chancellor suddenly rang out.
"First, I would like to thank you all for showing such great interest in my engagement ceremony."
As Whitney, Meredia, and everyone else turned their attention toward him, the prince, seated in the place of honor, cleared his throat and raised his voice.
"By now, you must all be curious about who my fiancée is, right? I apologize for keeping you waiting, but isn't it customary for the main character to appear last? Haha!"
Just as he said, the fiancée, who was supposed to be one of the protagonists of this engagement ceremony alongside the prince, had yet to make an appearance.
The attendees, too, had been more curious about who his fiancée was rather than watching the prince flit around the ballroom, tiring people out with his antics.
"Without further ado, let me introduce her right now!"
With everyone's anticipation building, the prince dramatically puffed out his chest and glanced toward the door of the waiting room behind him.
"My fiancée and future empress, Lady Hestia of the Viscount family!"
"Hm?"
For some reason, the door that should have opened at that moment remained shut.
"Your Highness…"
"Ah, hmm. I see."
A maid rushed out from the waiting room and whispered something urgently into the prince's ear.
His expression turned slightly awkward as he nodded.
"Keep an eye on her for now. Let me know immediately when she feels better."
"…Understood."
Turning back to the guests, he put on a nonchalant smile and began to explain.
"My apologies, everyone. It seems my fiancée is not yet ready to make an appearance."
However, the people gathered in the ballroom paid no heed to his words.
Instead, they were collectively in shock, murmuring among themselves.
"Viscount's daughter? Future empress?"
"Wait, more importantly—Lady Hestia? Isn't she…?"
The revelation that the prince's fiancée was merely the daughter of a viscount was shocking enough.
But what truly sent waves through the crowd was the fact that Lady Hestia was the very woman he had attempted to drag into his bedchamber not long ago—a scandal so outrageous that it had been plastered on the front page of the Imperial Gazette.
"Judging by your expressions, I can guess what you're all thinking, but this time, I assure you, it's a misunderstanding."
As the atmosphere in the ballroom grew increasingly frigid, even the prince—who was usually oblivious—seemed to sense the tension and quickly tried to explain himself.
"The reason I have been so ardently courting Lady Hestia is because I had a very good reason to do so."
Of course, no matter what excuse the prince came up with at this point, it seemed nearly impossible to salvage the ruined atmosphere of the engagement ceremony.
"Several months ago, I received a secret message from the Holy Order."
At the mention of the 'Holy Order,' the murmuring in the ballroom abruptly ceased.
"Lady Hestia has received a divine oracle."
His quiet words echoed through the now-silent ballroom, sending the guests into another wave of shock.
"Yes. After centuries, a saint has finally appeared in this world!"
Historically, a divine oracle had always signified one thing—the birth of a saint.
"And now, this blessed being has finally accepted my proposal. Is this not a great fortune for the empire?"
As the prince finished his speech with a beaming smile, the previously tense ballroom transformed.
A thunderous cheer erupted, followed by applause.
"Hah, now we really have no time left."
However, Whitney, who had been observing the situation closely with a grave expression, took a deep breath before turning to Meredia with a serious tone.
"Lady, I must go now."
"You truly believe I'll grant your request?"
Meredia, who had been watching the prince's side intently, scoffed as she asked.
But Whitney merely gave her a faint, amused smile before turning away.
"Well, if you don't, I'll probably die here."
"As if saying that will make me—"
"Of course, the choice is entirely yours."
"Hey, wait a minute."
As he finally began walking away, Meredia frowned and reached out to stop him.
But before her hand could touch him, Whitney, with a slight turn of his head, spoke firmly.
"Whatever choice you make, I won't resent you. Just follow your heart."
Her hand hovered in midair, failing to reach him.
"Oh, but please don't throw away the handkerchief."
Whitney glanced briefly at the handkerchief wrapped around her hand, whispering softly.
"If I die, you should at least have something of mine as a keepsake."
With those final words, he disappeared into the crowd.
"..."
Leaving Meredia alone once again.
*****
"You act as you please until the very end."
Meredia stood still for a long while, staring at the spot where Whitney had disappeared before letting out a hollow laugh and glancing around.
As Whitney had said, the engagement ceremony was indeed turning suspicious.
The absence of white magicians among the guests could have been a coincidence, but she had just noticed something even stranger—there were far too few magicians among the security forces patrolling the ballroom.
Additionally, the maids and attendants serving drinks were moving with unnerving precision, continuously offering wine without taking any breaks or shifts.
Considering all of this, if Whitney was right and a conspiracy was unfolding here, then not only the engaged couple but also all the guests in attendance were in danger.
"So people are in danger, and I'm supposed to take the risk?"
But frankly, Meredia couldn't care less.
She could still vividly recall the cold stares the majority of the guests had given her when she had walked in, hand in hand with Whitney.
She had neither the reason nor the obligation to help those people.
"Hah."
Of course, Whitney's proposal wasn't something she could dismiss with such simple reasoning.
Right now, she and Whitney were in a political alliance, each benefiting from the other.
'Still, it's not even worth considering.'
That was only true if accepting his proposal would bring her a clear advantage.
Trusting only in Whitney's bold assurances wasn't enough to justify ruining the prince's engagement ceremony—a move that would bring her too much risk.
Even if Whitney was her best bet for securing her position as the head of her house, this particular gamble simply wasn't worth it.
'It's best to end things with him here.'
Having made up her mind, Meredia turned decisively and began walking toward the exit.
"…Ugh."
But suddenly, her right hand stiffened and began to tingle.
'Of all times…'
Clenching her teeth, she stopped in her tracks, bracing herself for the familiar, unbearable pain that had tormented her ever since she got the scar.
Her body trembled slightly as she squeezed her eyes shut, preparing for agony.
"...?"
But as time passed, the searing pain she had expected—so intense that she sometimes wished she could cut her flesh away—never came.
"Could it be…?"
Startled, she opened her eyes and absentmindedly glanced down at her hand, only to remember that Whitney's handkerchief was still wrapped around it.
With a doubtful expression, she hesitantly lifted the fabric with her other hand.
"Ah!"
The instant she did, an excruciating pain surged through her hand, forcing her to quickly cover the scarred area with Whitney's handkerchief again.
For a long moment, she simply stood there, blankly staring at the handkerchief wrapped around her hand.
"Now then, let us all raise our glasses in honor of the empire and Lady Hestia!"
"Whitney, it seems you know me all too well."
As the people in the ballroom followed the prince's lead, raising glasses filled with murky red wine, Meredia sighed and turned back toward the hall, resignation settling on her face.
"If you can solve this curse that no one else has been able to lift…"
The moment she spoke, her lips curling into a cold smile, her jewel-like eyes darkened ominously.
"In the end, I have no choice but to play right into your hands."
Crash—!
The chandeliers and lights in the ballroom shattered simultaneously, sending shards of glass flying in all directions.
"W-What's happening?"
"Kyaa!"
The ballroom was instantly plunged into darkness, chaos erupting in the blink of an eye.
"Well, if it's to screw over a dark magician, I suppose I don't mind."
Casually surveying the disorder around her, Meredia absentmindedly stroked the handkerchief wrapped around her hand, its warmth tickling her skin.
"How infuriating… You tied it so tightly."
Despite her words, her expression—concealed by the darkness—didn't seem particularly displeased.
*****
Meanwhile, in the waiting room of the ballroom—where it all began.
"Ah…!"
There, the prince's fiancée, Hestia Chester, sat trembling, cold sweat dripping from her pale face as she groaned in pain.
"Are you alright?"
"Shall we call for a physician?"
The maids tending to her, wary of any backlash falling on them, hesitated as her condition continued to worsen.
"I'm fine… Just leave me alone for a moment."
Hestia, her face deathly pale, raised a weak hand to stop them.
The maids exchanged uneasy glances.
"Please, I'm begging you…"
"Apologies, but we cannot."
"The prince has ordered us to observe your condition closely."
At their firm response, Hestia bit her lip hard and shut her eyes.
"If you stay here any longer, you'll get caught up in something terrible—"
But before she could finish her warning, a sharp, unbearable pain surged through her body.
She gasped and clamped her mouth shut.
'What do you even want from me…?'
Writhing in pain, her gaze landed on the mirror hanging on the wall.
'A ridiculous prophecy, an engagement I never wanted…'
As she stared at her own distorted reflection, a bitter thought crossed her mind.
'I did everything they asked…'
The next moment, her reflection in the mirror hardened, her expression slowly consumed by terror.
"…What?"
Of course, the only ones present in the room were Hestia and the maids.
But as if she had just heard something horrifying, she suddenly began to tremble, then shot to her feet, shouting in alarm.
"No, I won't do it! Never!"
"Lady Hestia?"
The maids widened their eyes at her sudden outburst.
But Hestia ignored them, continuing to glare at the mirror.
"I don't care what happens to me, but sacrificing innocent people—!"
Crackle…
"Aaaaaaah!"
Before she could finish, a wave of pain unlike anything she had felt before overwhelmed her, forcing her to collapse.
"Ugh… Hngh… Urgh…"
Her legs gave out beneath her, and she clawed at her hair, sobbing as she tried to endure the agony.
Even the maids, ordered to keep their eyes on her, averted their gazes and shut their eyes in discomfort.
'You're nothing but a coward who doesn't have the guts to act, only capable of giving orders from the shadows.'
How much time had passed?
"…So if I don't follow orders, what exactly do you plan to do?"
Hestia, staggering as she rose to her feet once more, glared fiercely, her resolve burning in her eyes.
"Am I wrong? If I am, then show yourself before me right now…"
Just as she spoke with a faint, defiant smile—
Creak…
"Tsk, tsk. Things would be much simpler if you just stopped resisting."
The tightly shut door to the waiting room suddenly swung open.
The guards who had been standing outside lay unconscious on the floor as a boy strolled in, a cold smile on his lips.
"There you are."
"Ah…"
The moment he spotted Hestia standing frozen in place, he beamed at her with a cheerful smile.
Hestia, whose face had been filled with defiant determination just moments ago, took an instinctive step back, her expression shifting to one of disbelief.
"Y-You… It can't be…"
"Nice to meet you, Lady Hestia."
Unfazed by her reaction, Whitney spoke lightly, extending his hand toward her.
"Would you mind being kidnapped by me for a little while?"