Chapter 5
“Unbelievable. No sooner does Layton leave than someone comes over to bother me.”
The moment I was left alone, everyone started sidling toward me, creeping closer like predators waiting for the perfect moment.
I was dumbfounded.
It was as if they had been waiting for this exact opportunity their whole lives.
I tried to step away to escape the crowding, but I had no choice but to stop immediately.
“Where are you going, Lady Selena Bennett, Grand Duchess?”
I hadn’t even noticed him approaching—he was right in front of me.
With a greasy little smile, he twirled the mustache beneath his nose as he leaned closer.
The thick hairs, damp with sweat—or maybe just naturally glistening—wobbled and shifted with every movement.
“I am Peter Gott, eldest son of Count Gott’s house,” he announced.
And then, almost effortlessly, he took my hand.
“Oh my, oh my. After all you’ve been through, these delicate hands of yours have become so thin. How rough they are.”
I froze at the touch of his damp, clammy hand.
What is this rare lunatic doing?
No, “rare” wasn’t even the right word.
Lately, my residence had been seeing a steady stream of lunatics, and he fit right in.
He even spoke so loudly that all eyes in the room turned toward him—this was Count Gott’s heir, indeed.
“I couldn’t sleep last night worrying about this. You may lean on me now. May I dare to kiss these fragile hands of yours?”
Oh, this was a whole new kind of harassment.
I could not tolerate Count Gott bringing his damp mustache near my hand.
“My hand?”
I pointed at it and took a hesitant step back, only for him to lean in even closer.
“Yes, Grand Duchess. I wish to kiss your hand, dance with you, and converse as well.”
He winked.
Boldly, shamelessly.
My head was spinning.
My firm resolve to quietly slip out of the banquet had crumbled into ashes.
Why were these people so determined to cling to me?
If they had only tried a little harder to pretend to comfort me, it wouldn’t have been this absurd.
Watching these pathetic men scramble to manipulate the lonely Grand Duchess of the Bennett household made me smirk in spite of myself.
I was practically trembling at the sheer tediousness of it all.
I quickly tested my patented “Who do you think you are?” smile.
Corners of the lips angled just right to the left and right—perfectly flexible.
The heels of my pretty shoes today were sharp, perfect for action.
I lifted my gaze and, still holding my hand, aimed my trademark smile straight at the greasy-eyed Peter Gott.
“Ahh, so you are granting me perm—”
His babbling stopped abruptly.
Pow—
My shoe struck his shin with a solid thwack as I pretended to stumble.
I even feigned surprise, covering my mouth.
“Ahhhhh!”
“Oh my, are you okay? I’m so sorry! I felt dizzy…”
“Ugh… no… it’s not…”
Count Gott slumped to the floor, unable to protest, looking utterly pitiful.
“My word… just now…”
“See? She didn’t pretend to stumble just to kick you, right?”
I could hear the spectators whispering about what was obviously a deliberate kick, but I ignored them.
Squatting, I leaned close to his ear and whispered.
“Oh dear. Your shin looks so fragile. Shall I help you up?”
I didn’t wait for an answer.
Even if I offered, he wouldn’t have accepted.
“Look at Peter Gott,” someone whispered.
“The Grand Duchess is certainly not ordinary, hoho.”
“Indeed. Their family is rising in wealth and influence; they must envy the Grand Duke’s status. But still… what a sight.”
Apparently, seeing the eldest son of the wealthy Gott household brought low by a kick was quite a spectacle.
Having straightened and stepped away, I finally allowed myself a sip of the pomegranate drink in the corner.
“Ahh, I’ll live.”
I was exhausted to the point of pain.
I knew this might happen, but I hadn’t expected them to rush at me the instant Layton stepped away.
I set my empty cocktail glass down and prepared to return to Layton.
“Um, Grand Duchess…”
If it weren’t for the unexpectedly youthful voice, I would have gone on.
Turning my head, I saw someone about a hand taller than me with sparkling silver hair.
The boy suddenly extended his hand.
“I am Deon Lihardt, Grand Duchess.”
Smooth as a gentle soprano, his smile was flawless.
I recognized him instantly.
Deon Lihardt, second son of the famous Lihardt Dukedom—rumored to be an angel.
He was the younger brother of Carion Lihardt, the sub-male lead in the original novel, right?
But why was he acting like he knew me?
I pushed a few hypotheses aside and, with elegant composure, grasped his hand. He beamed.
“The honor is mine, to have you take my hand.”
“A hand, at least, I can politely grasp. But do you have something to say to me?”
“Ah… well…”
He lowered his head shyly and mumbled in a tiny voice.
“…Because you’re crying.”
“Pardon?”
“…Ah, I mean… you’re beautiful!”
What kind of line was this…?
Deon’s face was now redder than a ripe tomato.
Flustered, I tried to slip my hand free, but he suddenly shouted with courage I hadn’t expected.
“When I saw you kick that shin earlier, I fell in love at first sight. Please, go on a date with me!”
“Excuse me? You… fell in love… wait, what?”
At that moment, a large, warm hand gently landed on my shoulder, softening the impact of this sudden confession.
A familiar voice followed.
“Young master, you’ll have to wait your turn, I’m afraid.”
The commanding yet resonant voice echoed through the banquet hall like a speaker.
A chilling silence swept across the room.
I knew instinctively.
Tonight, the star of this banquet… was me!
