The Prince in Question Is Not Stable

Chapter 76: Bereft of Utterance (2)

The woman’s lips curved slightly in a faint smile.

"My niece has recently come of age. Exceptionally educated, well-mannered, she even won several awar-"

"No- not interested," Marcus said, rushing his words.

’I don’t want my head on someone’s beside table,’ he thought.

"That was rather quick," she said.

"So was the proposal," he replied, and took a sip of his wine, but his appetite wasn’t there now.

"It’s a topic that defines my life," he said. ’And death, too.’ But he didn’t say those words out loud.

The noblewoman held his gaze for a moment, considering whether there was room to push further, but there really wasn’t.

She gave a composed nod. "Well, if you ever change your mind, I’ll make sure my family stays in touch with you, Count Rile."

Marcus nodded. Without another attempt, she stepped aside and merged back into the moving crowd.

Marcus exhaled slowly. He didn’t like where that conversation had gone.

Not because of the proposal, but because of the thought it triggered.

Over a few more moments, a lot of people approached him. A minor noble, young noblewoman, merchants, Dukes.

Graves intercepted most of the merchants, but some did manage to slip past in distraction.

And then, after a long moment of control and conversations, there was no directly in front of him.

It was then Marcus noticed a movement that didn’t match the rest of the room.

Slow, weak, measure, and supported with a cane.

An old man, white hair, slight bend in his back, a cane resting lightly in his grip.

Marcus knew him the moment he saw him.

He was Winifred, the former strategist of the Queen, and the man he met as Ymir, because Winifred was one of the judges in Saintess hearing when he first encountered Violet.

Marcus watched the old man as he approached him.

Graves noticed it a moment later. He approached him and whispered in Marcus’s ear.

"That would be Lord Winifred," he said quietly.

Graves knew that Marcus was aware of Winifred. But to avoid any slight suspicion from Winifred, he already acted as if explaining Winifred to Marcus.

Winifred reached Marcus without breaking the rhythm of the room, as his cane slightly tapped on each segment of the loop of grand Piano.

He had just finished a brief exchange with another noble when he turned, as if noticing Marcus only now.

But since the beginning, he wanted only to meet him.

"Count Rile," Winifred said.

His was was worn out of age, but calm and steady.

Marcus looked at him, and nodded slowly. "Lord Winifred."

Winifred adjusted his grip on the cane slightly.

"I’ve heard quite a bit about you, son," he said. "Though I must admit, hearing and seeing are rarely the same."

"That tends to be the case," Marcus replied.

Winifred smiled, "Yes."

"Most things look simpler from a distance, yet, they get complex the more you learn about them," he said.

"I hope this evening has been treating you well, son." Winifred said.

"It has been eventful," Marcus gave a small nod.

Winifred let out a soft breath that resembled a faint laugh.

"These gatherings usually are," he said. "Though I find they reveal more about people than they intend to."

"That depends on what you’re looking for," Marcus replied.

"True, some look for opportunity, some for advantage, and some simply watch." Winifred added.

"I used to attend these far more often," he continued, "Back when I still had responsibilities, but now, these invitations are mere courtesies,"

"Now, it’s just greeting old acquaintances, and enjoying the boring parts," he said.

"Well, I’m certain a man like yours is never on rest, I hope the evening gives what you’re looking for," Marcus said.

Winifred smiled to that, and looked at Marcus.

"It already has, son. It already has," he replied.

He inclined his head once.

"I won’t keep you, Count. There are many who would prefer your attention over an old man’s conversation."

Marcus didn’t stop him. Winifred turned around, and moved away as naturally as he had arrived. Within seconds, he was just another man in the room.

"..." Marcus gestured at Graves, and Graves stood near him.

"Look into Winifred, this man...he irks me," he said.

"Lord Winifred?" Graves whispered as a faint mana barrier surrounded them.

"I’m not sure... I can’t just put my thought on it, but now that I see him again as Marcus, he’s not what he looks like, look into him, whatever you find, anything. There’s no specific scope," Marcus said.

"I shall do that," Graves replied.

"Oh and...it seems more and more nobles are devising a strategy to approach you after Winifred, your highness, maybe you should think of something too," he said.

"Think of something?" Marcus repeated.

"This is light work, Graves. Easy."

"The ones who really excel in mind games wouldn’t be forming clusters, and besides, do you really think I’ve got something to worry about?" Marcus spoke.

"That would indeed be the truth," Graves replied.

It was just then. At those very words, at that very moment, that the massive golden gates of the halls were opened up.

Knights wearing black armour and long cloaks, with a symbol of Covenant’s purple moon entered the halls, and stood alongside the walls of the room one by one.

From the floor above, Cassian, looked at the gates, and even Marcus looked at them.

Those knights didn’t utter a word, nor did they move an inch from their position.

A young, middle-aged woman stepped into the grand halls of the banquet.

She wore a deep black and long gown, her long Violet hair that stood among the black and blondes of the room stood out from the crowd.

And here eyes shone brighter than the jewels that noblewomen had adorned.

Her appearance, was utter elegance. A single breath caught in half the throats of the assembled nobility. Time itself seemed to hesitate.

She was not merely beautiful, she was devastatingly beautiful.

Even the most arrogant countesses, duchesses, draped in their finest jewels and silks, suddenly felt plain and forgotten.

She was the most beautiful woman any of them had ever seen in their lives.

"..."

"On second thought," Marcus murmured.

"I think I do have something to worry about."

Graves didn’t respond, in fact, he wasn’t near Marcus anymore, he was in the far corner of the banquet hall.