Sister, I Hit You Because There Was a Ghost Behind You - Chapter 55

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 55. The Night When Flowers of Truth Bloom in Full
The gondola finally came to a gentle halt before the marble staircase of the Grand Banquet Hall.
The Banquet Hall, revealed through the water mist, was far more magnificent and luxurious than it appeared from outside.
The moment the boat stopped, two firm hands suddenly extended from either side in perfect synchronization.
Kairik von Herzen growled low, speaking first.
“Take my hand. Don’t step on your hem and tumble down.”
Demian Lyart, unwilling to concede, extended his own courteous hand and spoke.
“Please take my hand. The steps are treacherously slippery with moisture.”
I let out a light sigh at this exhausting tension that had persisted since earlier, dismissing both their hands.
I gracefully gathered my skirts and stepped lightly from the gondola on my own.
I adjusted my silver fox mask and spoke smoothly.
“Tonight, I am not a delicate woman in need of an escort, but a predator who must dominate this party to achieve my purpose. Both of you, stay sharp.”
The moment the Grand Banquet Hall’s enormous golden doors opened, an intoxicatingly thick and sweet floral fragrance washed over us.
Blue roses filled the entire hall—the flowers of truth that numbed human reason and forced the heart to bare its secrets.
Massive crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, pouring forth dazzling light, while hundreds of nobles in elaborate masks filled the hall.
Yet their appearance was far removed from the usual refined aristocratic gathering.
Intoxicated by the flower’s fragrance, the nobles were spilling forth the terrible and dizzying truths they had hidden behind their masks.
A Portly Count clutched his partner’s hand, weeping bitterly as he spoke.
“The truth is, my estate is drowning in debt! Without your dowry, I’ll be on the streets by tomorrow!”
His partner, eyes wild, shrieked back harshly.
“I don’t care! I’ve been having an affair with your Coachman for half a year anyway!”
From all directions, a pandemonium of tangled confessions and exposed family secrets unfolded.
At this grotesque and brazen spectacle, I stifled a hollow laugh and opened my fan.
I surveyed the hall with keen awareness and spoke quietly.
“The rumors were true. If we continue breathing this acrid fragrance, we may find ourselves confessing our innermost thoughts before we know it.”
Kairik von Herzen wrinkled his nose and spoke with displeasure.
“More repulsive than the stench of a poisoned monster’s blood. This reek is so toxic to a beast’s senses that my head is spinning.”
Demian Lyart, his expression cool, carefully wove a faint sacred aura to shield me.
Demian spoke in a firm voice.
“Since this is natural essence rather than magic, I cannot completely block it with my holy power. Violetta, you must breathe shallowly and keep your mind sharp.”
We moved to the edge of the hall, avoiding the crowd’s gaze, and began searching for our prey—the Cardinal of the Papal See.
Before long, a portly man in crimson vestments and a golden mask caught our attention on the second-floor VIP balcony.
His distinctive arrogant jawline and the papal seal ring adorning his finger—unmistakably the Cardinal, keeper of the secret archives.
I pointed my fan toward the balcony and spoke quietly.
“Found him. But with guards positioned like snipers, a direct approach will be difficult. We need a natural pretext to reach the second floor.”
Kairik von Herzen irritably undid the buttons of his tuxedo and spoke.
“Pretext or no pretext, I’ll just leap up there in one bound and seize him by the nape of his neck.”
I shot him a sidelong glance and struck his firm forearm sharply.
“Don’t be absurd. If we cause a commotion where the Papal See’s attention is focused, we’ll only be advertising our location to The Mastermind.”
Just then, a romantic and passionate waltz melody began to flow from the center of the hall, announcing the beginning of the evening’s festivities.
One by one, people grasped their partners’ hands and glided toward the center of the stage.
Demian Lyart approached me and, with utmost courtesy, concealed one hand behind his back as he spoke.
“It would be best to blend in with them, dance naturally, and gradually make our way toward the second-floor staircase. Would you honor me with the first dance?”
But before Demian Lyart’s hand could even reach me, a rough, scorching grip seized my waist in one swift motion.
Kairik von Herzen curled his lips like a beast and growled.
“What are you trying to cut in line for? I’ve been saying since earlier that the first dance is absolutely mine.”
He gave Demian Lyart no chance to protest, sweeping me unrelentingly into the whirlpool at the center of the stage.
The hem of my navy dress billowed like waves upon a midnight sea, resplendent and fluid.
With each rotation to the music’s rhythm, the fragrance of the Flower of Truth pressed deeper into my lungs, growing more intoxicating.
Kairik von Herzen’s crimson eyes gleamed with a turbidity and danger far more pronounced than usual, whether from the flower’s scent or something else entirely.
As my body pressed flush against his solid chest, he exhaled roughly and brought his lips perilously close to my ear.
Kairik von Herzen spoke in a low, strained voice, as though losing all restraint.
“I’m going mad. From the moment you appeared in that dress, my mind has been consumed by a single thought.”
Startled, I tried to push gently against his shoulder, speaking urgently.
“Your Majesty, you’re intoxicated by the Flower of Truth’s fragrance. Come to your senses!”
But Kairik von Herzen pulled my waist closer still, unleashing his instinctive truth.
He spoke with fierce, scorching intensity.
“I want to gouge out the eyes of every wretch in this hall. I want to wrap you in my cloak this instant and lock you away in my castle in the Northern Region, so that no one dares to even look upon you.”
It was an unfiltered bomb of a declaration—the possessive obsession of a male, suppressed by the flower’s fragrance, erupting without restraint.
My heart plummeted at his brazen, blind devotion.
I was struggling to find an answer, trying to hide the heat in my face behind my fan.
The passionate waltz’s tempo shifted into a gentler melody, and the moment for exchanging partners drew near.
In an instant, a cool, decisive hand struck away Kairik von Herzen’s arm and drew me gently into its embrace.
It was Demian Lyart.
Demian Lyart spoke to Kairik von Herzen in an icy, glacial voice, a warning.
“Spare us further of your beast’s vulgar drivel. You’ll only sully Violetta’s ears.”
Kairik von Herzen surged with killing intent, ready to strike back, but the wave of partner exchanges swept him away in an instant.
Demian Lyart cradled my waist with feather-light yet iron-firm strength, guiding me through flawless steps.
I cooled my flushed cheeks and exhaled a sigh of relief.
“Thank you, Demian Lyart. His Majesty was intoxicated by the flower’s fragrance and uttering most dangerous nonsense.”
But the blue eyes gazing down at me were no longer those of the noble Holy Knight I knew.
Within their depths, swirling like an abyss, an irrepressible longing and aching emotion churned precariously.
Demian Lyart whispered to my ear in a trembling voice, his words achingly tender.
“It was no nonsense. I find myself cursed—for the first time in my life, I deeply sympathize with the Grand Duke’s profane possessiveness.”
Startled by Demian Lyart’s unexpected confession, I widened my eyes.
“Are you also intoxicated by the flower’s fragrance? You are the Knight Commander of the Holy Knights Order. Regain your reason.”
Demian Lyart furrowed his brow as though in pain, yet his grip on my hand tightened with profound tenderness.
He confessed his truth in a voice so fragile it seemed on the verge of shattering.
“I have sworn a lifetime of chastity and devotion to the Goddess. But tonight, the moment I beheld your radiant form… I found myself consumed by a fallen fantasy—to cast aside every vow, to become your knight alone, to kneel and kiss the ground beneath your feet.”
It was the most lethal and desperate confession of corruption ever to fall from the lips of a righteous Holy Knight who had lived his entire life in asceticism and principle.
The weighty sincerity that both men had layered behind their masks, catalyzed by the flower of truth, was relentlessly bombarding my heart.
I hid my uncontrollably flushing face behind my half-fox mask and felt a dizzying vertigo wash over me.
The feral beast and the noble Holy Knight—both had clearly gone mad.
If this continued, I would suffocate under the crushing tension of this suffocating love triangle before I could even interrogate the Cardinal.
I forcibly suppressed my trembling heart, gripped my fan tightly, and turned my gaze toward the second-floor Balcony.
I steadied my quavering voice and spoke with deliberate coldness.
“I heard your magnificent confessions well. But what captivates me most right now is neither Demian nor Your Majesty. It’s only the nape of that portly Cardinal sipping champagne on the second floor.”
At my resolute and lethal declaration, Demian hastily collected his dazed gaze and let out a faint cough.
The music surged toward its crescendo, and our steps finally reached the entrance of the Staircase leading to the second-floor Balcony.
These dizzying truths that had burst forth, intoxicated by the fragrance of flowers, had to be buried in a corner of my heart for now.
This was the moment to seize and shake the throat of our true prey—the one upon which our very lives and the fate of the continent hung.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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