The banquet's atmosphere continued to heat up amid the climax of gift-giving, with fine wine, music, and glittering jewels weaving together a scene of luxury. But Leon felt as though he were trapped in a transparent crystal cage. The laughter and chatter around him sounded muffled and grating, as if heard through a thick pane of glass. He huddled in the shadows near the terrace curtains, wishing he could sink into the wall. Eleanor Soros's precisely targeted Elemental Form Evolution Manual had been the final blow, shattering the last scraps of hope and pride he had clung to.
Mechanically, he picked up another glass of champagne from a passing waiter's tray and nearly gulped it down. The cold liquid slid down his throat, but it couldn't quench the burning humiliation and helplessness inside him. He just wanted the damn banquet to end so he could escape this place where he felt utterly disgraced.
Yet fate seemed determined to work against him. Just as he was distracted and trying to make himself as inconspicuous as possible, a crisp voice rang out nearby, hot as a flame and tinged with undisguised mockery. It wasn't loud, but it seemed to pierce the surrounding din with almost magical force, clear as day in his ears:
"Well, well~ Who's hiding here, drowning his sorrows? Why, it's our 'talk of the town' tonight, young Master Leon of the Hohenzollern Family~"
Leon stiffened from head to toe, his blood seeming to freeze in an instant. He didn't need to turn around to know who that voice belonged to—Eleanor Soros!
He turned around with difficulty and saw Eleanor standing a few paces away, smiling radiantly as she linked arms with a well-dressed young nobleman. Her fiery red curls blazed beneath the lights, and her emerald eyes gleamed with the playful malice of a cat toying with a mouse. Her smile brimmed with cruel satisfaction. Leon recognized the young nobleman beside her as a distant relative of Marquis Metternich. He was looking Leon up and down with an expression that said he wouldn't mind seeing a little trouble.
Several guests who had been chatting nearby were also drawn by the commotion. They fell silent and turned their curious gazes toward them. Clearly, Eleanor had deliberately chosen a spot neither too close to nor too far from the crowd. She wanted to embarrass Leon without drawing too much attention—at least on the surface—so she could preserve her "ladylike" composure.
Leon's face flushed bright red. His fingers tightened around his glass until his knuckles turned white. Forcing down the urge to turn and flee, he ground out, "Miss Soros, what do you want?"
Eleanor acted as though she hadn't heard the stiffness in his voice. She gently swirled the amber liquid in her crystal glass and blinked her beautiful, wide eyes in feigned surprise. "Oh, what could I want? I just saw you standing here alone, so I came over to say hello. After all..." She drew out the words, her gaze meaningfully sweeping toward the dance floor, where Elisa was dancing gracefully with her brother Victor. "You are tonight's leading lady's 'fiancé,' aren't you? Why are you hiding away by yourself?"
She put special emphasis on the word "fiancé," making the sarcasm unmistakable.
Leon's heart sank. He knew trouble was coming. He braced himself and said, "I'm just a little tired. I'm taking a break."
"Tired?" Eleanor covered her mouth and laughed theatrically. Her voice was like a silver bell, but it carried a sting. "I suppose you are. That dance earlier must have been so 'exhausting.' I almost feel sorry for Elisa's feet." Her words immediately drew a few suppressed chuckles from those nearby.
A vein throbbed at Leon's temple. He gritted his teeth. "There's no need for you to concern yourself, Miss Soros!"
"How could I possibly concern myself?" Eleanor's smile didn't waver, but her tone abruptly shifted, striking like a serpent. "I was just curious... Young Master Leon, you see, everyone gave Elisa so many... well, 'distinctive' gifts tonight." She glanced toward the dance floor again, her expression growing ever more "innocent" and "confused."
"Her Highness the Eldest Princess's ancient meditation technique, my brother's Tranquility Emblem, the Star Iron Halfplate from the Gilbert Family, and my insignificant old manual... even the Roland Family gave her a Magic Tower." She listed each of the gifts that had left Leon mortified, every word lashing at his heart like a whip.
Then she fixed Leon with her emerald gaze, filled with undisguised, probing malice. Her voice dropped, but remained loud enough for everyone nearby to hear. "But what about you, young Master Leon? You're Elisa's rightful fiancé, after all! What gift did you give her? I can't seem to... remember."
She tilted her head and pretended to rack her brain. "I think... it was a little box? What was inside again? A... brooch? Oh, right, a sapphire brooch, wasn't it?"
Her words instantly and shamelessly drew everyone's attention back to Leon's "insignificant" gift!
Leon felt all the blood in his body rush to his head, and his vision went dark. The moment he'd feared most, the one that humiliated him most, had finally come to pass—and his most hated person had exposed him in front of everyone in the cruelest way possible!
"You..." Leon trembled with rage, but couldn't get another word out. What could he say? Was he supposed to argue in front of everyone that the brooch had cost him 275 Gold Rolands? That would only make him seem even more ridiculous and pathetic!
Eleanor seemed not to notice his mortification. In that same sweet yet venomous tone, she pressed on. "Oh, young Master Leon, don't misunderstand. I'm not saying your gift was bad. The sapphire was quite pretty! It's just..." She drew out the word, a sly glint flashing in her emerald eyes. "I was a little surprised... Given the Hohenzollern Family's prestige, and your usual 'generous' ways, young Master Leon, how could your gift to your fiancée at such an important Coming-of-Age Ceremony be... just a brooch?"
She stepped closer, lowering her voice, though every word came through even more clearly, like a serpent's hiss. "Could it be that Marquis Otto—or your brother Karl—has been a little short on cash lately and hasn't given you enough pocket money?"
"Pfft—" The young man from the Metternich Family finally burst out laughing. He hurriedly covered his mouth, but his shoulders continued to shake.
The other guests' gazes grew more amused and contemptuous. Eleanor's words were vicious! She hadn't just belittled Leon's gift; she had also insinuated that the Hohenzollern Family was strapped for cash—or, more maliciously, that Leon had pocketed the money meant for the gift!
Sure enough, Eleanor had no intention of letting him off. As if she'd suddenly realized something, she tapped her fan lightly against her palm and raised her voice with feigned surprise. "Oh! I know! Could it be that you, young Master Leon, spent the money at... that place again?"
She didn't say what "that place" was, but her suggestive look and tone made it clear to everyone: a casino, a racetrack, or some even more disreputable place of entertainment!
"I heard someone spent a fortune at the Golden Broom Club the other night and lost quite a bit... And apparently the new star dancer at Nightingale and Rose received a string of very expensive pearls..." As if making casual conversation, Eleanor tossed out a few of the recent rumors circulating in the Imperial Capital about wastrel young nobles. Yet her gaze stayed locked on Leon, every word a poison-tipped dagger driven into him!
"You're talking nonsense!" Leon could no longer hold back. He jerked his head up, his eyes bloodshot with rage and humiliation. "My affairs are none of your business! I chose that brooch carefully!"
"Carefully?" Eleanor acted as though she'd heard the funniest joke in the world. She covered her mouth with her fan and giggled, her laughter bright but grating. "Oh, yes, so very 'carefully'! A sapphire brooch you can find anywhere—truly... fit for a young Master of the Hohenzollern Family, and for Miss Elisa Windsor, too!"
Her mockery came down on Leon like hail. "I wonder if Elisa will like such a... 'simple and unadorned' gift. She seemed more interested in my old, battered manual earlier, if you ask me!"
That was the final straw! Leon felt a rush of blood to his head, and all reason crumbled away. Humiliation, fury, helplessness... His emotions erupted like a volcano! He lunged forward, almost reaching Eleanor, and raised his fist as if he meant to strike her!
"Eleanor Soros! You've gone too far!" he roared hoarsely, his voice distorted by rage.
The commotion was impossible to ignore now. The guests who had only been watching for entertainment changed their expressions. The young Master of the Hohenzollern Family was about to strike a lady from the Soros Family at the Windsor Family's Coming-of-Age Ceremony? It was a scandal of the highest order!
Eleanor was startled by Leon's sudden outburst and instinctively stepped back half a pace. But she quickly steadied herself. A triumphant, calculating smile flickered through her emerald eyes, while her face took on a look of fear and hurt. "You... What are you going to do?!"
The young man from the Metternich Family immediately stepped in front of her. "Hohenzollern! Are you trying to cause trouble here?!"
The confrontation was on the verge of escalating, and an even bigger scene was about to unfold!
Just then, a cold, authoritative voice poured over the flames about to catch like icy water:
"Enough!"
Everyone turned toward the voice. Victor Windsor had appeared nearby at some point. His face was livid, his gaze sharp as a blade. He glared at Leon first, his warning and disappointment nearly piercing through him. Then he turned to Eleanor. His tone softened slightly, but still carried undeniable force. "Miss Soros, this is my younger sister's Coming-of-Age Ceremony. Please, let's keep the peace."
He gave the Metternich young man and the onlookers a cold glance. His imposing presence made them avert their eyes or take an involuntary step back.
Victor's arrival brought the situation under control in time. Eleanor understood it was best to quit while she was ahead. She composed herself and gave Victor a slight nod, her tone returning to "calm." "You're right, young Master Victor. I was out of line. I was only sharing a little joke with young Master Leon." Then she gave Leon a meaningful look, the curve of her lips triumphant, before turning away with her companion and leaving him with an arrogant silhouette.
The crisis had passed, but Leon felt even more humiliated and miserable than before! Eleanor had made a fool of him in front of everyone, and then he'd needed his "rival's" brother to bail him out! He stood there rigid, feeling everyone's gazes prick him like needles, full of disdain, ridicule, and pity.
Victor walked up to Leon and lowered his voice, speaking through clenched teeth so only the two of them could hear. "Leon Hohenzollern! Look at the mess you've made! Haven't you embarrassed yourself enough? Keep yourself in line! If you cause any more trouble, I'll be the first to deal with you!" He gave a cold snort and walked away, clearly disgusted with Leon.
By the terrace, Leon was left alone, like an abandoned rag doll. The night breeze swept over him, carrying a chill, but it couldn't dispel the heat in his face or the cold in his heart. He bit down hard on his lip, nearly drawing blood, and dug his nails deep into his palm.
Every one of Eleanor's words and every glance replayed in his mind like a nightmare. The humiliation had sunk deep into his bones!
He slowly raised his head and looked through the enormous glass windows toward the dance floor, where the girl still stood, cool and aloof, seemingly untouched by the noise around her. She was speaking elegantly with an older nobleman, apparently unaware of the uproar she had sparked—or simply unconcerned by it.
An unprecedented despair and fury began to grow wildly in Leon's heart, like weeds.
A waste... was that what he was?
He clenched his fists, and for the first time, a nearly crazed fire burned in his eyes.
Just wait, Eleanor Soros... and everyone who looks down on me...
You'll pay for mocking me today!
The thought was like lightning flashing through the darkness, brief but piercingly clear. But once the lightning had passed, only deeper darkness and confusion remained. Pay? What could a "waste" like him possibly do to make anyone pay?
Leon let his hands fall in defeat and stumbled away, fleeing as though from a plague, deeper into the darkness beyond the terrace. The banquet hall's glitter and clamor had nothing to do with him anymore. Tonight, he had lost far more than face.
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