“Thank you all for attending until the end of the Hunting Festival.”
At the Emperor’s words, spoken from the podium, people responded in various ways. So showed no interest, looking away as if bored, while others listened intently, eager to imprint every gesture of his into their mories.
Unbothered or unaware of their reactions, the Emperor continued his speech slowly.
“I’m glad the gifts prepared for this Hunting Festival found their worth. I hope you all enjoyed it.”
Beside the Emperor stood piles of defeated monsters. Each pile bore a sign with the na of the hunter who brought it down and the na of the lady who received it.
The Emperor cast a sidelong glance at the heaps of prey.
“This ti, there were particularly rare offerings among the monsters,” he remarked.
He then approached three massive piles with signs indicating their hunters. These piles were on a completely different level compared to the others. Even the Emperor couldn’t hide his amazent as he let out a low exclamation.
From a griffon to a Ganesh-like creature and a white lion, the stacks contained disaster-class monsters, each as large as a house. The towering piles stretched so high that one had to crane their neck to see the top. Among the crowd, soft murmurs of astonishnt could be heard.
“I wanted to judge the best among them, but it was nearly impossible to decide between these three,” the Emperor said.
The signs bore the nas of Rev, Leo von Schufenheim, and Abel von Hardenberg. The crowd buzzed particularly around Abel’s na, whispering amongst themselves.
It was no surprise; the Duke, who had never revealed his strength before, had finally shown his prowess during the festival.
“However, the sight of Duke Hardenberg taking down a disaster-class monster for his lady left a deep impression on .”
The Emperor gestured toward a nearly obliterated monster that lay beside Abel’s pile. The colossal creature, once boasting massive horns and a fortress-like size, now had only its lower half intact, sprawled out pathetically.
“This too, in a way, is a tribute offered for his lady.”
The Emperor paused briefly before announcing, “Thus, the stars of this Hunting Festival are Abel von Hardenberg and Adele von Este.”
Even as the announcent echoed, there was no applause or cheering. Considering Adele’s notorious reputation, it wasn’t surprising.
Clap. Clap. Clap.
Just as I was trying to accept the silence, a single pair of hands broke through the quiet. Turning my head, I saw Estelle, smiling brightly as she clapped. Soon, those around her followed suit, and what started as a small sound swelled into thunderous applause that filled the air.
Amidst the ovation, Abel gently took my hand, his faint smile steadying my trembling heart.
Taking a deep breath, I followed Abel up to the podium. The Emperor approached us with his characteristic warm smile.
“Here is the promised gift.”
A box held by an attendant radiated an unusual trace of mana. Was this the artifact passed down through the Imperial lineage? Abel bowed as he received the box, and I mirrored his bow, showing proper etiquette.
“You’ve done well. I watched your efforts closely.”
“Your words are an honor,” Abel replied.
“Hahaha! I’m glad to hear that,” the Emperor laughed heartily, though his words were re formalities. With that laughter, Abel and I descended from the podium.
Even though I’d been granted the title of “Queen,” it all felt surreal, as if I were in a dream.
After all, I had faced countless forms of death in my previous attempts. Never had I imagined sothing like this could happen.
“I truly didn’t expect this to happen,” I murmured.
“You’ll be quite busy from now on. The title of ‘Queen’ is a key that opens the doors to the social world,” Abel replied.
The Queen of the Hunting Festival.
Just the title alone was enough to erase my notorious past, or so Abel claid. I found it hard to believe. I had struggled so hard to escape that infamy, and yet a single title had turned it all around. It left feeling sowhat hollow.
But one question lingered in my mind.
Why had Abel participated in the Hunting Festival?
From what I’d heard, Abel had never once joined the festival before. Estelle had casually ntioned it in passing, and I hadn’t paid much attention. So why did he participate this ti?
“Could it be… the reason you joined the festival was…?”
“Of course, it was for the contract,” he answered plainly.
“I… see.”
Abel von Hardenberg will serve as Adel von Este’s fiancé for a year, providing assistance whenever possible.
Ah, right. That was the agreent. A faint sense of lancholy crept over , an odd mix of disappointnt and wistfulness.
I found myself confused by these emotions. Why was I feeling this way over a simple contractual relationship? What had I expected, to be this letdown?
Did I wish he was doing all of this purely for ?
That didn’t seem right. I had never felt any romantic fluttering toward him. To , he had always seed like a beautiful doll, sothing to admire from afar. And yet, why did this subtle feeling persist?
Perhaps reading my expression, Abel smirked and asked, “What’s wrong? Disappointed?”
“Pardon? Why would I be?” I replied, startled.
Disappointed, huh?
There was no reason for to be disappointed. If anything, I should be grateful to him, not feeling like this. I quickly denied his suggestion, but he responded with a mysterious smile.
“Hmm… If you say so.”
With that, the conversation ended, and we traveled in silence back to the duchy. The quiet was a little awkward after such a long ti, but I didn’t let it show. Whatever the case, Abel had fulfilled his role as a fiancé perfectly.
****
Just as Abel predicted, the past few days had been overwhelmingly busy for .
Sorting through the endless stream of invitations, deciding which to decline and which to accept—it sounded simple but was far from it. The complex web of political alliances between noble houses made it impossible to make those decisions lightly.
If not for Allen, who offered guidance by my side, I would have been clueless and likely caused all kinds of trouble. His advice, honed from years of experience as a skilled butler, helped even soone as politically naive as navigate these complicated relationships.
I picked up another letter, marveling at its elegant design and luxurious paper. But before I could admire it further, the sender’s na caught my eye.
“...Estelle?”
Now that I thought about it, Estelle had ntioned sending an invitation. This must be it. I carefully read the contents of the letter.
—--
To the esteed Miss Adel,
How have you been? Congratulations on taking the Queen’s seat at the Hunting Festival. I’m writing to formally extend the invitation I ntioned earlier. Apologies for the delay; I’ve been quite busy. I hope you can forgive for sending this so late.
Please, grace my tea party with your presence. It’s a casual affair, so there’s no need to feel burdened—co as you are and enjoy yourself.
Yours sincerely,
Estelle von Louis
___
The letter was simple and to the point, free of the elaborate embellishnts and dazzling words that filled most other invitations I’d received. What could Estelle’s intention be in sending this?
“...I still can’t figure her out.”
Though I was suspicious, I had no reason—or even grounds—to decline her invitation. Refusing an invitation from Estelle, who held such influence in the social world, could have consequences I didn’t even want to imagine.
On the other hand, attending might provide valuable information. As soone deeply entrenched in social circles, Estelle could likely shed light on public opinion about Abel, his past, and the children he’d taken in—details Evan had once ntioned.
“Allen, would it be alright for to accept this invitation?”
“Miss Adele,” Allen said in a low, admonishing tone, his voice almost fatherly.
I imdiately realized my mistake.
“It’s good to consider my advice, but ultimately, you must make decisions yourself, Miss,” he reminded gently.
“...Understood.”
How many tis had I been corrected like this? Even though I knew better, breaking this habit was difficult. mories of suffering and dying because of my infamous reputation weighed heavily on my mind, making it hard to make decisions freely.
“Oh, by the way, there’s another invitation—from Princess Aria,” Allen added.
Sure enough, the golden imperial seal stamped on the invitation confird his words. The intricate design, a hallmark of the imperial family, left no doubt about its authenticity.
Aria von Schufenheim.
The empire’s only princess and the only royal who had renounced her claim to the throne. She was renowned even in social circles for never speaking to anyone, earning her the nickna “The Unbending Flower.”
“...Why would soone like her send an invitation?”
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