Chapter 85
The balcony was filled with the fragrant scent of spring night foliage.
The Akraldent Hall, where the graduation ball was being held, was one of the most luxurious buildings in Noble Academy. In fact, it was usually reserved for high-ranking professors or clergy from the Theology Department to receive guests.
As such, every corner of the hall was lavishly decorated.
The balcony was ringed by a railing shaped like ancient columns, and nestled within the bushes below were small marble basins. Separating the ballroom from the balcony was a sheer brown curtain adorned with dangling blue tassels.
Nerys stepped toward the edge of the balcony as she heard the soft rustle of the curtain falling shut behind her—Cledwyn’s doing.
The sky had darkened, the deepening blue rapidly devouring the last of the dusk. Scattered stars had already begun to shine, and a pale half-moon peeked through the heavens.
Despite only a single curtain separating them from the bustling ballroom, the ball now felt like something that had happened yesterday.
Leaning against the waist-high railing, Nerys let out a sigh.
Warmth approached from beside her—the kind of heat that could only come from a human body.
Without thinking, she lifted her head, and when her gaze met Cledwyn’s, she stiffened.
It was strange. He hadn’t said a word. So why did his eyes alone stir something so deeply inside her? Something like ripples swelling in her chest?
She didn’t want to show her confusion. Forcing her gaze away, Nerys looked down at the shrubbery. Magical lanterns placed throughout the garden shimmered, reflecting in the ripples of the marble basins.
“Are you alright?”
Cledwyn handed her a drink, though she hadn’t even noticed when he fetched it. Nerys accepted it and took a sip. The light sweetness and tang lifted her mood, if only a little.
She needed to answer, but what should she say? Scraping words together, she muttered something vague.
“I’m fine. It wasn’t a big deal. I didn’t even get hit.”
They both knew Megara had collided with Cledwyn on purpose. And judging by the trajectory of their dance, the one she should’ve bumped into was Nerys.
She probably meant to crash into me and fake an injury.
Nerys was all too familiar with Megara’s tactics for seducing men. And just as familiar with the repertoire she used when taking it out on Nerys.
Fragile, wronged, but still sweet and kind.
Megara’s beauty and acting skills could even sway women—so for men already interested in her, she was practically a fatal dose.
That she was targeting Cledwyn now instead of Abelus was odd.
Megara thrived in high society. She had to know that marrying someone like Cledwyn meant being dragged off to Maindulante—where she’d hardly be able to appear in social circles again.
Maybe she was still too young to fully grasp that?
But Megara had always acted like she knew exactly what she wanted.
Or maybe it didn’t matter—so long as the man standing next to me was hers instead.
Nerys bit her lip slightly.
In her past life, when she found out that Megara—the girl who had tormented her through school—had become her husband the Crown Prince’s mistress, Nerys had cursed her misfortune.
Of all people… What a cruel coincidence.
But what if it hadn’t been a coincidence?
What if Megara had approached Abelus specifically because he was Nerys’s husband?
A chilling thought.
As she lost herself in that reflection, warmth surrounded her back, neck, and arms.
Velvet. Cledwyn’s formal uniform jacket.
When she glanced to her side, she saw that he had taken the same stance beside her—only mirrored. Facing her.
Their eyes met—and stayed.
She couldn’t look away. They simply stared at each other for a while.
Cledwyn undid the top two buttons of his crisp white shirt with one hand. His large, broad fingers moved swiftly, like magic.
Nerys quickly tore her eyes away from his neck and said,
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
His voice was soft, almost like a hum. Nerys hesitated, then answered briefly.
“For everything. I’ve never done anything for you, but Your Grace has given me so much. For my mother too, and everything until now…”
“‘You.’”
In a flash, Cledwyn’s lips were at her ear.
He hadn’t touched her, but it felt like a kiss. Her ear burned red, and Nerys, startled, instinctively shut her eyes.
Like magic, his lips were gone again. But now her entire face was flushed, and she could feel the heat of it herself.
Hoping the dimming evening made it harder for him to see her blush, Nerys asked,
“What?”
“Say ‘you.’ It’s better than ‘Your Grace.’”
Better than telling her to call him by name, at least. As Nerys finally felt her face cool slightly, she replied with as much dignity as she could muster.
“Only when no one’s watching.”
“Alright.”
He didn’t sound thrilled, but for some reason, he accepted it without complaint.
Nerys couldn’t bring herself to look at him again. Instead, her eyes drifted to the hand he had resting on the marble railing. The white gloves that matched his uniform had vanished at some point.
What little of his bare skin she could glimpse was surprisingly rough—unexpected for one of the highest-ranking nobles in the country. Likely the result of surviving countless dangers firsthand.
No less perilous than when she had found him as a boy, collapsed and bleeding in the thickets.
“If I go to Maindulante…”
Lost in thought, Nerys spoke without realizing.
“What will I be?”
“You’ll be Nerys Truydd. Wherever you are.”
“I know that. But I mean formally. I should have some kind of title or role, right? Will I be your aide? Or something like that?”
“No one remembers the names of my aides. You’ll be working with people who need to remember your name.”
Nerys blinked. A position where people remembered her name.
At the very least, that meant it wouldn’t be a lowly title.
“What is it?”
“You’ll find out when you get there.”
Was he toying with her? Though she was admittedly curious, Nerys lowered her gaze and managed her expression carefully to avoid revealing any disappointment.
She had no idea Cledwyn was quietly chuckling beside her, watching her expression shift.
“Excuse me.”
Cledwyn’s expression stiffened just slightly—just as the curtain between the balcony and ballroom drew open.
Peeking through was a boy from the student council. He was a graduating senior, a high-ranking noble close enough to the imperial family to serve as Princess Izet’s partner tonight.
“Sorry to interrupt while you’re resting, Truydd.”
Sorry? That wasn’t something one usually heard from someone of imperial blood.
Assuming the first part was meant for Cledwyn and only the end addressed her, Nerys replied blandly,
“Yes, Senior.”
“Her Highness has summoned you. Both of you.”
There was no reason Izet would call Nerys out specifically. It was probably Cledwyn she was summoning, and Nerys—his partner—was being brought along for propriety’s sake.
When a princess summoned you, there was no room to delay. Cledwyn smiled and offered his hand to Nerys.
“Shall we?”
Just before taking his hand, Nerys hesitated. What if she felt that strange flutter again—like before?
She was a little afraid.
But unlike her, Cledwyn showed no hesitation. As soon as she rested her small hand in his, he clasped it gently and led the way.
Nerys, trailing behind him, stared at his back and repeated the words to herself:
People who need to remember my name.
In her previous life, nothing she did had been recorded as the work of “Nerys Truydd.”
All of it had been credited to the Elandria family or the Bistor Imperial House.
She didn’t believe Cledwyn had said what he did with any such nuance in mind. Most likely, he simply meant that he’d give her a title flexible enough for her to work freely and use her skills as she pleased.
…And she didn’t dislike that. That kind of recognition.
* * *
Princess Izet sat on a raised platform at one end of the ballroom, a few student council members standing nearby like guards.
As Cledwyn approached, Izet lazily extended a hand. He took it briefly and mimed a kiss in the air before letting go.
His attitude didn’t display any reverence toward royalty, but neither of them seemed to care.
It was Nerys who found that detail strangely unsettling.
Of course the two of them knew each other. If members of the imperial family were to know only one noble in this empire, it would be Cledwyn Maindulante.
But if it had been Abelus, he would have pounced on Cledwyn’s attitude immediately, accusing him of being disrespectful.
“I didn’t expect you to come all this way.”
Izet withdrew her hand and greeted him flatly. Cledwyn, standing close beside Nerys, replied with a faint smile.
“I didn’t tell you I would.”
The student council members near Izet stiffened. Especially Valentin, who stood closest to the princess.
Valentin had matured over the years. Not only had she grown taller and physically developed, she had learned to hold her tongue—at least when necessary.
Even now, though Cledwyn’s remark clearly brushed off the authority of the student council she belonged to, Valentin didn’t lash out. She merely narrowed her eyes, cold displeasure flickering across her face.
“I didn’t know you were acquainted with Miss Truydd either.”
“Of course. I didn’t mention that, either.”
Princess Izet’s solemn expression didn’t change. But as someone who had lived as her sister-in-law for years, Nerys could tell—she wasn’t offended by Cledwyn’s boldness.
It was strange. Nerys had always believed everyone in the imperial family hated the Duke of Maindulante.
And clearly, Cledwyn didn’t hold any affection for Izet either.
“Still, if you’re going to show up like this, try to at least say hello. Don’t just disappear with your lovely partner like you’ve been waiting for the perfect moment to do so.”
“How could I fail to show proper respect to the imperial family?”
It was unclear whether Cledwyn meant he would greet them properly next time or not—but everyone present understood the message.
Then Princess Izet’s gaze turned to Nerys. After a brief pause, she asked,
“Miss Truydd, I believe you said you already have plans after graduation. Are you planning to go with this person?”
This person. The phrase grated on her ears. Nerys lowered her eyes and answered calmly,
“No, Your Highness. As I mentioned before, I have another destination.”
It wasn’t a lie. Technically, she wasn’t following him. She was just going somewhere else—after graduation.
Izet seemed satisfied with the smooth and practiced reply. She gave a polite little smile and continued,
“Yes, I recall. Have you considered working at the imperial palace? As I’ve said before, many here highly regard your talents.”
It was clearly a trap. Nerys knew that.
If Izet genuinely intended to recruit her as a low-ranking official or handmaiden, she would have made the offer the day Nerys submitted her early graduation forms.
To bring it up now, here, in front of Cledwyn?
She was testing her.
* * * * * *
Translator’s Note:
Hey everyone, just a quick heads-up — starting next week, chapter releases might be a bit inconsistent for a while. My wife and I just had our baby, and I’ll be prioritizing taking care of them during this time. Depending on how things go, I might still be able to post chapters here and there, but I can’t promise a regular schedule just yet.
I really appreciate your patience and support. I’ll do my best to keep updates coming when I can, and I’ll let you all know once things start settling down and we’re closer to getting back to a steady rhythm.
Thanks again for sticking with me and this story. It means a lot.
