—Outside the Royal Ballroom, Corridor Corner—
The closing melody completely faded into the cold air, and the lights inside the main ballroom dimmed one by one.
Yet Klaus and Alden, standing in the shadows of the west corridor, were like statues petrified by Medusa herself, frozen in place for a long time, unable to move.
They had witnessed the entire process.
From that “unrivaled handsome youth” in the black suit and platinum-blonde wig sweeping onto the dance floor, to how they dominantly took the commoner representative by the hand amidst the gasps of the assembled nobles... to that final moment that was almost—
“Klaus...”
Alden turned his neck mechanically, even hearing the dry, cracking sound of his own cervical vertebrae.
He clutched his wrinkled uniform jacket tightly, his eyes filled with the horror of someone who had just escaped death:
“Y-you... pinch me.”
“Did I drink too much grape juice tonight and start hallucinating? Did the oldest daughter of the Aldheim family just... (insert wild speculation here)?”
“Because if you think about it...”
“She isolated and targeted her, only to step up herself in the end?! ...”
“Shut up! You idiot! Keep your damn voice down!!”
Klaus also spun around violently, locking a thick arm around Alden's neck and dragging him bodily deeper into the shadow of the stone pillar.
At this moment, the nouveau riche young master was breaking out in a cold sweat. His usually fearless face was now paler and uglier than a sheet of paper.
He felt like he had discovered something monumental.
That Loris might actually... have a thing for her!
In a low, near-hysterical voice that sounded close to a breakdown, he whispered harshly into Alden's ear:
“Listen to me, Alden! Tonight's matter—the thing about Lady Loris dressing in men's clothes—you and I, the two of us, must rot this in our stomachs and take it to our graves! We absolutely cannot breathe a single word of it!!”
“I-is it really that serious? Isn't it just a prank by a grand noble lady...”
“No!!”
In his desperation, Klaus stamped heavily on Alden's leather shoe, making the other boy almost shriek in pain.
“This is something Lady Loris absolutely does not want anyone to know!”
“If even a single syllable slips out of your mouth, believe me, by tomorrow morning, both of us and our families will completely and silently ‘disappear’ from this kingdom! People will actually die!!”
Looking at Klaus's bloodshot eyes, Alden finally realized the gravity of the situation and nodded his head like a drum:
“Understood! I get it! I swear, if I tell a soul, may I stay single for the rest of my life!!”
—West Corridor, Outside the Preparation Room—
Just as the two boys were dragging each other along, still shaken and preparing to flee this dangerous place via a side path, two highly discordant mincing footsteps, accompanied by the flapping of feather fans, drifted over from the other end of the corridor in exasperation.
“Damn it! Damn it all! How does that bitch still have a spare gown?!”
Margaret Horn's sharp voice was dripping with deep jealousy. She stomped her high heels hard, her well-manicured nails nearly tearing her handkerchief to shreds:
“Vera! Didn't you say it was foolproof?!”
“Alright, Margaret, calm down. We're in the corridor.”
Vera Klein's face was also as dark as the bottom of a pot. She fanned herself furiously with her high-grade feather fan, her eyes filled with resentment:
“Who would have thought she'd bring a dozen spare gowns when going out? Damned rich people... But what's even more concerning is: who on earth was that platinum-blonde brat who suddenly popped out? How dare he openly defy Lady Loris's social ban.”
“I reckon he's someone we can win over as well.”
“We'll have him deal with Loris.”
With that, the two vile women stepped out from the corner of the changing area, whispering curses with a trace of guilt.
Upon looking up, they happened to see Klaus and Alden huddled against the wall, their clothes in disarray.
“Oh? If it isn't Young Master Klaus and Student Alden?”
Vera was startled at first, but then she keenly sensed the unusual, guilty look on the two. A manipulative, mocking sneer crept back onto her face:
“What's the matter? Waiting here for Lady Loris's thunderous wrath? Student Klaus, what happened to your clothes...”
However, before Vera could fully organize her spiteful mockery, black tides seemed to surge from the void in the shadows behind them.
An icy female voice, completely devoid of human emotion, rang out directly above the four of them without warning:
“You all seem to be in exceptionally high spirits tonight.”
“!!”
Margaret and Vera shrieked in terror and whirled around.
Meanwhile, the moment Klaus and Alden heard the voice, they stood at attention with tacit, perfect synchronization, not even daring to raise their heads.
Stepping slowly from behind a marble pillar was the Duke's exclusive personal guardian—delicate-featured yet cold as an ice sculpture—
Shirune.
In her arms, she held a long package wrapped tightly in white cloth, from which drifted the pungent smell of black ink—evidencing the physically destroyed deep blue gown inside.
“Miss Horn, Miss Klein.”
Shirune's emotionless eyes swept over the faces of the two vile women, her voice as calm as a judge reading a verdict:
“According to the recordings from the image-recording magic tool inside the Duke's private preparation room, and the evidence retrieved from the scene.”
“Under normal circumstances, two minutes ago, the academy's Disciplinary Office and the Capital's tailing agents should have already surrounded you, forcibly escorting you to the Academic Affairs Office and the Royal Capital Tribunal on charges of ‘malicious destruction of a grand noble's property’ and ‘deliberate endangerment of the Duke's eldest daughter.’”
Hearing the words ‘image-recording magic tool’ and ‘Tribunal,’ Margaret and Vera's faces instantly turned completely pale.
As long as the final fig leaf wasn't peeled away, the internal struggles among high nobles were considered mere child's play.
But once concrete physical and testimonial evidence was secured, with the Duke of Aldheim's towering influence in the Kingdom of Barton, bankrupting and liquidating their minor noble families overnight would be as easy as the Duke signing his name while approving documents!
“W-we didn't... That wasn't us! It was Klaus! Klaus was the one who rushed in and ruined it!!”
In her panic, Margaret lost all composure and pointed her finger directly at Klaus, who was playing dead beside her.
However, Shirune only lowered her eyes slightly, coldly cutting off her deflection.
“...” She said nothing.
Because, to some extent, it was true.
The evidence pointed to Klaus. The two vile women had only talked. Even if they traced it further up, they would only catch Alden, but the one punished most severely would definitely be Klaus.
Furthermore, this entire matter had to be kept under wraps.
To this end—
After a cold, stern verbal warning,
The two vile women fled, scrambling away in absolute panic.
“Therefore, regarding tonight's matter, the Young Lady has taken into account that you two, in the final moment... ‘fulfilled your respective duties,’” Shirune continued.
Klaus and Alden let out a collective sigh of relief.
They naturally understood what Shirune meant by “fulfilling your respective duties” and “waiving punishment”—if they investigated Klaus and the two vile women's conspiracy, they would inevitably have to thoroughly dig up the locker swap in the backstage and the identity of the mysterious platinum-blonde youth.
All of this was to protect that “unparalleled handsome youth” identity she had painstakingly assumed with pure conviction.
Or perhaps, Klaus thought of his bond with Loris, and let it go.
“There will not be a next time.”
Shirune stepped aside, clearing the path to the outdoor carriage parking area, her tone dripping with unconcealed distance and dismissal:
“The Young Lady is very tired tonight. She does not wish to hear any mindless rumors about the backstage tonight, or about some ‘platinum-blonde youth,’ at the academy tomorrow morning.”
“Smart people should know how to protect their families. What do you say?”
“Y-yes! We know nothing about tonight! We saw absolutely nothing!!”
Alden practically bowed his head to the ground, solely because her aura was too terrifying.
This was a guard lady who had truly killed countless people.
Klaus also nodded in haste. “I understand!”
Shirune fell silent for a moment before melting into the darkness and vanishing.
“...”
“Ha... haha... I survived.”
Alden collapsed weakly onto the marble floor, his hands trembling as he re-tied his crooked tie.
Standing beside him, Klaus, after a long, long silence, turned his head.
“We're not done yet, you and I.”
“Huh?” Alden gaped, dumbfounded.
In the night wind, the boy's uniform—slightly disheveled from the intense ordeal—fluttered gently as he clenched his fist and swung it down.
—A friendship-ending punch.
...
Outside the Royal Ballroom.
“Rumble—”
The last luxury carriage, engraved with an ancient noble crest, slowly rolled along the damp maple forest path under the coachman's crisp crack of the whip.
Leaving the grand and heavy Baroque doors of the Royal Ballroom far behind in the desolate moonlight.
The crystal chandeliers inside the hall had all been extinguished, leaving only a few solitary windproof wall lamps casting cold shadows onto the empty marble floor.
The night had grown completely deep.
A chilly night wind swept up a few withered autumn leaves dyed a dark red, swirling and falling lonely on the empty outdoor lawn.
This night of the Summer Ball—filled with absurdity, misunderstandings, cross-dressing infiltration, and the jaw-dropping dramatic rescue by the platinum-blonde handsome youth!
Amidst the silence of the male leads, each harboring their own thoughts; the overflowing romantic heart-fluttering of the innocent commoner girl; and the utter exhaustion of a certain villainous daughter who was currently sprawled inelegantly in her carriage ride home, her mind filled only with thoughts of “I am absolutely sleeping in tomorrow morning, meow”—
Had officially come to a close.
Rate on N.U.
