Chapter: 205
No matter how desperately I prayed, reality remained unchanged.
Duke Partran’s request was nothing more than a personal favor. Since it wasn’t a quest, there was no way to just skip it.
Coming out of my panic, I conveyed my refusal to the Duke. As much as I thought about it, it seemed unlikely anything good would come from this. However, the Duke wouldn’t have any of it.
“My lady, you defeated the First Prince. If you don’t even share your thoughts about it, what will others think?”
He raised his voice sternly, pointing out that it could easily be perceived as a blatant disregard for the First Prince.
It was amusing to see the so-called “clumsy Duke” suddenly take such a firm stance, but I supposed it was because he was worried about me, Joy’s friend.
Realizing this, I gave a reluctant nod, and the Duke flashed a smile that seemed straight out of a thriller movie.
…That smile must mean he thought it was a good idea, right? Right?
After the Duke left with a headache-inducing but polite request, I hurriedly called out to Grandpa’s name.
With my minuscule brain, I couldn’t see a way out of this situation.
[…Give me a moment to think. My head is pounding.]
But Grandpa didn’t have some magical solution to fix this either.
Given that my actions were restricted by skills, no matter how politically wise he was, there were limits.
[First of all, the main point: Don’t ramble on. You never know which direction it might bounce off to.]
‘Right.’
[After that, what you need to think about…]
Summarizing Grandpa’s advice, it came down to minimizing damage.
With the Mesugaki skill in play, I couldn’t stop the explosion from happening, so let’s at least try to reduce its size.
Hearing that, I could only sigh.
If I had known this, I would have simply let the First Prince win and donned a dress instead…
No, that’s not right.
But then again, making a total fool of myself in front of influential nobles isn’t exactly appealing, right?
While mulling over that, I inevitably reached a harsh realization.
No matter which way I chose, the only thing awaiting me at the end was a one-way trip to hell.
I had thought I had smashed the petty deity’s little schemes, but no. The moment he handed me a quest, I was bound to fall into despair.
Which kind of god traps their own Apostle like this?! This pathetic garbage!
*
Countless people wanted to join the Partran family’s party.
The authority of being one of the few Duke families in the kingdom.
The reputation born from countless achievements the Partran family had built.
The honor arising from their dedication to the kingdom.
All three of these were possessed by the Partran family.
Surely, not a few would want to somehow connect with these people.
Because of this, the number of those wishing to participate in the Partran family’s party always far exceeded the actual attendees.
Given this situation, the names of those present at the party were far from insignificant.
The two princes of the Soladin Kingdom.
The scions of other Duke families, excluding the Burrow family.
Kent, of the swordsmanship lineage. Rumley, who amassed considerable wealth based on fertile lands. Powerful noble families like Vulcan, tied to the Blue Tower Lord, who supported the strength of the kingdom.
The saint of the Holy Church. The head of the Claw Mercenaries spearheading various dungeon conquests. The Apostle worshiping the God of Art. The heir apparent of the Dragon’s Roost Guild, connecting various countries on the continent.
Regardless of social status, everyone present had a notable name.
It was true, yet there were differences in their grandeur.
Every jewel in the world shines beautifully, yet their values differ.
The same applies to the attendees at this party.
Some were anxiously hoping to initiate conversations, while others hung back just watching.
And right now.
Beyond the party door, the name of the family waiting for the door to open was undoubtedly part of the former group.
The person stationed at the entrance took a deep breath after receiving something through their magical tool.
“Lord Benedict Allen and Young Lady Lucy Allen of the Allen family, entering!”
With a voice reverberating through the entire party hall, everyone’s gaze turned to the entrance. The massive doors swung open as a father and daughter stepped inside.
Describing the pair in one word would be like calling a monster and a fairy smitten by it.
With a massive frame that could turn an ordinary man into a child, and muscles that seemed capable of ripping through his suit, along with a grim demeanor.
A man’s fierce presence radiating strength.
From the legendary tales woven around him, a reverence was born.
Benedict Allen.
Once referred to as the kingdom’s canine tooth, even after retreating to his territory long ago, his name was always mentioned when discussing the strongest on the continent.
Gazes directed at him held admiration, thankfulness, awe, and respect.
His name had to bear such regards for having protected the kingdom through numerous adversities.
And by his side stood a small girl who didn’t quite seem like she belonged.
Her dress was plain and modest, primarily white with gold accents.
If an unnamed noble lass wore it, she’d be called a country bumpkin.
Yet, no one could dare speak such words to the girl.
She was simply too beautiful to throw such insults at.
With skin as white as snow, an easy smile, and a proud mix of innocence and mischief reflected in her striking red eyes, along with twin tails that swayed gracefully in the air.
A visage as if designed painstakingly by a deity.
She transformed the evaluations of her attire simply by existing.
Simplicity became elegance, confidence became grace, neatness was redefined, and plainness morphed into allure.
Anyone who laid their eyes upon her would be captivated by this enchanting scene, though the gazes directed at her weren’t exactly kind.
Those who had long participated in high society were well aware of the lurking reality beneath that angelic appearance.
Lucy Allen.
The girl notorious for endless mischief.
Had it not been for her association with Benedict Allen, she would have been long embraced by the claws of the devil.
With all the light given to Benedict, the little girl was believed to have turned her back on the gods.
Rumors had been circulating that Lucy Allen had changed since entering the academy, but hardly anyone believed it.
Even if her concealed potential had been let loose, her nature wouldn’t have shifted. After all, the malice she showcased within countless grievances wouldn’t have suddenly vanished.
This was the judgment passed down by those who had faced Lucy Allen and tasted her poison.
Given this reality, the glances directed at Lucy Allen were not friendly.
“Why is that girl here…”
Someone expressed disdain.
“Leeching off the kindness of Lady Partran…”
“How funny that she dared stand up to the First Prince without knowing her place.”
Someone else revealed jealousy.
“She probably made some deal with the Evil God.”
“Yeah, how can that trash grow so suddenly?”
Someone even openly cast slanderous remarks.
For Lucy Allen, this realm was a place of punishment.
A punishment where she wandered among the needles of others’ hostility.
An average person would have buckled and crumbled under such pain, but Lucy Allen was different.
Standing steadily before the Duke and Duchess, she held her ground without a hint of wavering.
As she stood there, the Duke’s brows began to arch.
“Thank you for having me, Duke and Duchess Partran.”
“I appreciate the invitation. Clumsy Duke, Weak Duchess.”
With the entrance of the Allen family, a wave of murmuring filled the party hall, but the moment Lucy Allen spoke her greeting, all sounds vanished.
It was a grave gaffe.
A grievous oversight.
To speak such nonsense to the host of the party, and not just any noble family but the great Partran family!
Should she misstep in her words, even the slightest spark could lead to disaster, and everyone had held their breath, casting cautious glances when the Duke and Duchess burst out in laughter.
“Bwahahaha! Did you hear that, my lady?”
“I did indeed! To call it out here like that….”
“That’s some audacity. Truly worthy of being Benedict’s daughter.”
Listening to the laughter, Benedict’s voice came out stammeringly.
“I’m sorry… You both. My daughter…”
“What are you saying, Benedict? I like this nickname! It’s the first time I’ve heard something other than crying from her… Clumsy Duke! It would be delightful if other children could approach her this way too.”
“I agree! Until now, the only names she had were like troll or witch, but Weak Duchess? Now that’s refreshing.”
As the two smiled and patted Benedict on the shoulder, nobody, including Benedict himself, took those words to heart.
They merely thought Lucy’s rudeness was forgiven because she was the daughter of the great hero Benedict.
It was easy to understand why; those casting these words were the center of a plethora of terrifying rumors regarding the Partran family.
If anyone were to take those words at face value and act out the same disrespect, their life would essentially meet its end right then and there.
“Oh dear, I’ve kept you all too long! Since it’s been quite a while since I attended a party, let’s enjoy it. I must take my leave for now.”
With the Duke’s terrifying laughter, the partygoers forced themselves to speak up.
The Duke’s command to enjoy the party couldn’t possibly apply solely to the Allen family.
*
Was it that it had been a long time since I set foot outside the mansion? Benedict was bogged down, intensely busy meeting people.
The number of those eager to greet him formed a circle around him.
While watching that scene, I subtly drifted away from his side and headed towards a corner of the party hall. Unlike Benedict, the gazes directed at me were far from friendly.
[The hostility is so direct.]
‘Yeah, right?’
Back at the academy, most people seemed to fear me rather than harbor any outright dislike.
Yet here, it was different. Those present had no qualms about hiding their hostility towards me.
Just stepping out briefly made it feel suffocating; how did Lucy manage to endure it?
Now I was almost feeling respect, sincerely.
[Just how many sins have I piled up in the past? Even with the Duke bearing some intent to protect me, it’s this bad.]
Grandpa’s voice showed disbelief, but I didn’t feel the need to respond.
Perhaps he wasn’t expecting an answer. He swiftly changed the subject.
[At least it’s fortunate that not everyone is filled with hostility.]
As Grandpa pointed out, not everyone was glaring at me with cutting stares.
Those unfamiliar with high society—those seeming distanced from the status of nobility—looked at me with eyes full of curiosity.
Could this be part of the reward bestowed by the petty deity?
It was still hard to feel it.
Arriving at a less noticeable spot, I quietly surveyed the party hall for familiar faces.
Joy and Phoebe were at the center of this party. Surrounded by countless people, they seemed trapped in that crowd.
Freya was busy grabbing food in a corner, while Arthur still hadn’t arrived.
Ah! There’s Avery!
Making eye contact with her, I slightly narrowed my brow.
Hey, about what happened at the auction? You know, right?
In response, Avery ardently nodded her head.
Despite her character, she certainly had quick wits.
While lost in thought with my chin resting in my hand, I spotted Jeff strolling over from the distance towards me.
The princely heir of the Partran family, destined to be the center of this party, was coming all the way to this corner.
There could be only one reason for that.
“Lady Lucy, are you prepared to make your remarks?”
No, I’m not prepared at all.
I’ve got the preparation down but not the delivery.
Can’t I just pass?
You saw what would happen if I stood on that podium—a 100% guarantee of chaos ensuing.
Wouldn’t that be a catastrophe at the party?
Internally grumbling, those words came out sounding entirely the opposite.
‘Sure. I’m ready.’
“Of course, my cunning prince.”
I wasn’t the type to have the courage to bolt from this situation.
Alright, time to go embarrass myself.
…
I really don’t want to do this…
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