MTO C95

Chapter 95

Only after enduring the seemingly endless procession of noble greetings did Michel finally receive a sliver of free time. Avoiding watchful eyes, he slipped away to the balcony. If he remained inside, noblemen and ladies would flock to him for even a single word, robbing him of any chance to rest.

“Whew…”

Michel grasped the balcony railing and exhaled deeply. Though the banquet had only just begun, he felt utterly drained.

Why am I this exhausted?

When he visited the village, he met far more people and exchanged greetings constantly, yet it never felt this suffocating. In fact, he usually enjoyed talking with others—perhaps because the villagers always listened sincerely and responded with heart.

But nobles only showered Michel with praise, worshipping him as though he were divine, yet showing little interest in listening to his words. They chattered endlessly about trivial matters, competing to see who could monopolize him longest.

Worse yet, the more Michel fell silent, the more convinced they seemed that he was listening earnestly, smiling with satisfaction at their own mistaken assumption. At first, he tried to truly listen—but before long, maintaining a benevolent smile consumed all his strength.

I’m doing okay… right?

Since Kaidan hadn’t reprimanded him, and Lawrence occasionally met his gaze and nodded approvingly, Michel assumed he had not committed a grave faux pas.

He lifted one leg onto the balcony railing and stretched his stiff body. During etiquette lessons, they had drilled into him that nobles must maintain perfect posture—so he had not dared stretch even once in the hall.

“You were here.”

Kaidan soon stepped onto the balcony. He paused, amused, at Michel with one foot on the railing, before handing him a plate of desserts. His timing was perfect—Michel had been moments away from a sugar crash. Without hesitation, he stuffed the sweetest-looking muffin into his mouth.

Kaidan watched Michel devour desserts in silence, lips curling faintly.

“You look completely out of it.”

“…It shows?”

“Not really. Inside, you looked every bit the benevolent saint.”

“Then I’m relieved.”

“If you’re tired, go up to your room for a bit. You don’t need to stay the whole time.”

Michel had expected Kaidan to keep parading nobles to him, so the unexpected mercy felt almost touching. Still, it was too early to complain of fatigue—especially when the orphanage children had not yet even entered the hall.

“The star of tonight’s banquet can’t disappear already. The most important part hasn’t started yet.”

“When will the children arrive?”

“A little later. I plan to bring them in when the atmosphere is at its peak.”

Kaidan nodded. Light from the hall spilled over him, outlining his figure in a soft glow.

Just then, a breeze swept across the balcony, loosening a few strands of his neatly styled hair. He casually brushed them back.

For a moment, Michel found him strangely unfamiliar. Truthfully, he had felt this odd distance ever since entering the banquet.

Throughout the noble greetings, Kaidan had been impeccable—identifying families at a glance, cutting conversations at perfect timing, drawing admiration with graceful smiles. The awkward young lord who once struggled to communicate with his own knights was nowhere to be found. Tonight, he was a flawless host—while Michel had slipped away to hide.

“You seem used to this kind of thing.”

“Hardly. I’m resisting the urge to rip this suit off and slice out their tongues.”

Michel blinked at the blunt confession—surprising, yet oddly comforting. Kaidan’s features contorted in genuine disgust, as though he truly loathed this banquet.

How strange. Normally Michel admired Kaidan’s elegant smile—yet now, that raw grimace felt even more reassuring. Realizing the odd thrill that stirred inside him, he quickly cleared his throat.

“Let’s not ruin the suit the Bevers worked so hard on. Let’s steal a break while we can. No one else is here.”

“……”

“You’re not planning to cut my tongue too, right?”

Kaidan narrowed his eyes as though he had heard something wicked.

“What you say is fine. In fact, I’d rather hear you speak.”

“…Huh?”

“Your words are honest. I know that.”

Michel stared, stunned. But before he could examine Kaidan’s expression, the man turned away.

“Rest here. I’ll bring drinks.”

“Huh? Oh—yes.”

Kaidan strode off with the plate. Left alone, Michel blinked at the door he disappeared through.

Did he sneak a drink earlier?

He brushed at his cheek. Though it was spring, the night wind still held winter’s chill—yet his face felt strangely warm.

Their small escape did not last long. A noble spotted Kaidan leaving the balcony, and Michel was soon dragged back into the banquet, forced to don his saintly smile once more and listen to noble “confessions.”

“So I’m choosing a sacred painting for my private chapel. There’s the depiction of Saint Pablo’s first miracle, and another portraying Saint Antonio receiving divine revelation…”

“Right…”

“I lean slightly toward Saint Pablo. The first step is always the most important, yes? But the painter of Saint Antonio’s revelation is renowned for his devotion…”

“That makes sense…”

“…Though Saint Pablo’s painter is a royal portraitist, not a sacred artist…”

What they called “consultation” was simply the noble speaking endlessly while Michel murmured vague agreements. At least now, Michel understood how to converse with nobles: look thoughtful, nod occasionally, and wander mentally.

For instance, at that moment Michel was staring at the noble’s corsage, thinking that Dan had folded a paper flower of the exact same color that morning.

Thank goodness it wasn’t obvious he wasn’t listening.

“E–Eglence Duke!”

A sudden shout snapped Michel from his thoughts. A beautifully dressed young lady stood before Kaidan, hands clasped tightly.

“C–could you speak with me for a moment?”

Even someone as inexperienced in romance as Michel understood her intent. She had been sneaking glances and stifling squeals all evening; she was clearly smitten.

She was stunning, too—her rosy lace gown suited her perfectly, making her seem like a heroine in a fairy tale.

Michel felt a flutter, as though he were watching a romantic film. Conversations stilled—nobles subtly watching the scene unfold.

Kaidan, however, looked troubled. Michel quickly realized he didn’t want to leave him alone.

“It’s fine. Go ahead, Brother.”

“But—”

“The young lady surely has pressing words to share.”

After all, Michel would only be listening to more chapel décor debates. Kaidan must have thought so too, because after promising to return soon, he followed her.

The lady beamed, guiding him toward a quieter corner.

Michel smiled warmly at the picturesque pair. David had told him that young nobles sought spouses at such events—perhaps Kaidan would find a good match tonight.

Ah—right. He can’t marry.

Michel recalled the rumors and sighed, pity welling inside him. Kaidan was handsome, dutiful, responsible—and surprisingly kind beneath his stoic exterior. Such a good man, cursed with such a fatal flaw!

Do nobles not know the truth?

“Oh ho. A deer seeks to nest in the eagle’s aerie.”

Michel turned. The noble who had been rambling about chapel art was watching the pair keenly. Since the eagle symbolized House Eglence, the “deer” must refer to the young lady.

“If the northern Eglence lands ally with the Casenail port, the royal family will surely take notice. Valois already pushes for independent legislation…”

“……”

“Ah—my apologies, Saint. Such matters must burden you. No matter how noble the household, news of a lover’s engagement is always a tragedy for the one left behind.”

Michel blinked. He had only stayed silent because he didn’t understand, but the man looked at him with pity.

“What lovers?”

“The two of you, of course—the Saint and Duke Eglence. Are you not courting?”

Michel jolted as though struck by lightning at this scandalous misunderstanding.