On the day of the banquet that Joachim had ntioned, the entrance of Winter Castle was already crowded with carriages since early morning.
The iron gates had been opened wide, and the sound of wheels grinding over snow and stone echoed through the courtyard without pause.
Coachn shouted at one another, horses snorted clouds of white breath into the cold northern air, and servants hurried back and forth like ants disturbed from their nest.
The Edelweiss family was not only the leader of the north but also the owner of one of the seven Mage Towers on the continent.
It was only natural that nobles, rchants, knights, and even representatives from distant regions would seize any excuse to show their faces here.
Even so… this many?
For a mont, I wondered whether news of the banquet had sohow spread beyond its intended circle.
The sheer number of banners fluttering in the courtyard made it look less like a private gathering and more like a royal assembly.
Of course, whether the castle could accommodate them all was not my concern.
Only those formally invited would step into the banquet hall. The rest would content themselves with being seen.
What I really had to worry about was how I would behave in front of that many people.
Two days.
It had only been two days of practice, yet thanks to Elena's relentless guidance, I could now manage steps that could at least be called a dance. Not graceful. Not elegant. But passable.
Barely.
Since I would not be dancing with anyone other than Elena, as long as I kept in rhythm with her, I would not disgrace myself in front of the northern nobility.
At least, that was what I kept telling myself.
"You seem very nervous, Young Master."
Ken's calm voice cut through my thoughts.
"I'm not feeling very comfortable," I replied honestly.
My gaze dropped to the ring on my right hand.
A small dragon was engraved around the band, its wings curling protectively along the tal. In its mouth, it held a crimson gem that caught the pale winter sunlight and reflected it like a drop of frozen blood.
I did not have a hobby of wearing flashy rings. In fact, I disliked them. They felt restrictive, like a visible declaration that I belonged to sothing larger than myself.
But tonight, I had no choice.
This ring, which had once made deeply question my father's taste, was not a simple ornant.
At first glance, it looked excessive—heavy, ornate, and far too dramatic for sothing ant to be worn on a single finger.
The tal was dark, almost guntal in shade, engraved with intricate patterns that twisted around a crest at its center. It didn't whisper authority. It declared it. Loudly.
And yet, it was one of the items that symbolized the Lord of Kraus.
In principle, it was the only thing that represented the Lord of Kraus in a formal capacity. No banners. No letters of decree. Just this ring.
When my father entrusted it to before I left with rohim, I hadn't understood why.
I still rember that mont clearly.
"You'll need this," he had said, holding it between his fingers as if it weighed nothing.
I frowned at it. "Isn't this yours?"
"It is," he replied calmly. "But for now, it will be yours."
I had taken it hesitantly. "Father… why give sothing like this? I'm not—"
"—not ready?" he finished for , a faint smile tugging at his lips. "That's precisely why."
At the ti, his words felt cryptic. Almost unreasonable.
Today's banquet was not a simple gathering. It was a battlefield disguised with silk and wine.
The ring was proof.
Proof of who I was.
Proof of what stood behind .
Proof that I was not soone to be lightly provoked.
It symbolized a position too important to ignore. Its presence alone carried a silent warning—those who did not wish to quarrel with Kraus would be wise to behave appropriately. Or better yet, leave.
Unless the eyes of those attending this banquet were utterly blind, no one would fail to recognize it.
The crest engraved upon it had been seen on decrees that shaped territories and on docunts that ended bloodlines. It was not subtle.
I almost smiled at the thought.
How amusing would it be if soone ignorant enough to not recognize one of the sacred objects belonging to one of the most powerful individuals in the empire dared to attend tonight's banquet?
At the beginning of the banquet, Joachim would introduce to the public.
Even if the guests only caught a glimpse of the Kraus family emblem engraved on my dress, there would be no difficulty in recognizing who I was.
The emblem alone carried enough weight to silence a room.
Even if I did not wear this ring, there would be no problem with people recognizing as Kraus.
Therefore, my father entrusted this ring to as a ssage for , not for the public.
While wearing this ring, I should rember that I am Damian Kraus, and behave accordingly in front of others.
It ans the sa thing as the saying, "Those who seek to wear the crown must bear its weight."
But honestly… I was more concerned about the dance with Elena tonight than the aning contained in the ring my father gave .
The ring felt heavier than it looked. A simple band of gold, engraved with our crest, yet it pressed against my finger as if reminding of every expectation tied to my na.
I flexed my hand.
It did not beco lighter.
"Ken," I muttered under my breath, tugging slightly at the collar of my formal coat. "I can't dance…"
Ken, who had been adjusting the cuffs of my sleeves with infuriating calmness, paused and looked at as if I had just declared war.
"You've been practicing hard with the lady so far," he said. "Don't be so worried."
"I stepped on her dress yesterday."
"That was once."
"It was three tis."
Ken let out a quiet sigh. "Three tis during practice is not a tragedy. That is the purpose of practice."
"This isn't practice," I whispered harshly. "This is the banquet. In front of nobles. In front of my father. In front of Joachim. In front of everyone."
"And in front of Lady Elena," he added deliberately.
I glared at him.
Ken only smiled.
"Don't worry about it," he continued. "The young master is doing well enough. Your posture has improved. Your steps are steady. You no longer look like a soldier being forced onto a battlefield."
"That is not comforting."
He chuckled. "You are overthinking it."
Of course I was overthinking it. How could I not?
This was not just a dance. It was an announcent.
An unspoken declaration. The heir of the Kraus family standing beside Elena under the chandelier lights, moving in rhythm as if we belonged together.
If I stumbled, it would not simply be clumsiness. It would be weakness.
If I hesitated, it would not simply be nervousness. It would be doubt.
"Ken," I said quietly, "what if I embarrass her?"
Ken's expression softened slightly.
"You will not."
"You don't know that."
"I do," he replied calmly. "Because Lady Elena would not have agreed to dance with you if she thought you would."
I hesitated.
He continued, lowering his voice.
"She looks at you with trust, young master. Not expectation. Not calculation. Trust."
That silenced .
Trust.
There was nothing much to worry about.
At least, that was what I kept telling myself.
If I repeated it enough tis in my head, maybe it would start sounding true.
Thanks to Elena's relentless training, my skills had improved far beyond what they used to be. Anyone with eyes would notice that. Whether they judged it as impressive or rely acceptable—that was up to them.
Still, their opinions didn't matter to .
What mattered was Elena.
I didn't care if people laughed at . I didn't care if they whispered that I wasn't worthy of standing beside her. I could endure that much.
But if my shortcomings caused her even the slightest embarrassnt… if anyone mocked her because of …
That was what I couldn't stand.
I exhaled slowly and stared at my reflection one last ti.
The banquet was about to begin. There was no turning back now. No magical rewind. No convenient accident to delay the inevitable.
Ti marched forward, indifferent to my anxiety.
So I left my room.
As I walked down the corridor of the Winter Castle, the quiet hum of distant preparations echoed faintly through the halls.
Servants hurried sowhere out of sight. Soft light from chandeliers reflected off polished floors. My footsteps sounded louder than usual to my own ears.
Two days.
We hadn't just been idly chatting these past two days—we practiced until my legs ached and my pride nearly shattered. Elena had been strict. Unforgiving. Every misstep earned a sharp look. Every hesitation, a patient but firm correction.
"Again."
"Your posture."
"Don't look at your feet."
Her voice replayed in my mind as I turned the familiar corner toward her room.
This banquet wasn't just any social gathering. It was an announcent.
My engagent to Elena.
The thought alone made my heart pound.
It was only natural that I would escort her into the hall. Natural… and terrifying.
Thankfully, after those two days of practice, I at least knew the way to her room without getting lost like a fool.
When I finally stood in front of her door, I stopped.
Even though I had already checked my clothes several tis before leaving my room, I instinctively looked down again.
I smoothed the front of my coat. Adjusted my cuffs. Straightened my collar. Ran a hand through my hair, then imdiately worried I had ssed it up and fixed it again.
No wrinkles.
No stains.
Nothing out of place.
"You're overthinking," I muttered to myself.
Still, I inhaled deeply before raising my hand and knocking.
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