The Problem Is, My Ex-Boyfriend and I Are Both Dating Other People - Chapter 9

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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 9

“I can’t imagine how long it’s been since the last Ball at the Imperial Palace.”
“Hehe, now that the Crown Princess has returned, you’ll receive invitations until you’re sick of them.”
“Do you think so?”
“Ah. You were too young to remember. Back when the Empress was alive, the Imperial Palace held so many balls and celebrations each season that it was impossible to attend them all. This season should be quite promising.”
The young lady couldn’t hide her delight at those words.
I, who had been listening to their conversation, quietly shook my head.
‘They’re not wrong.’
For nearly a decade, the Imperial Family had hosted only the most essential balls. There were several reasons, but the greatest was surely the absence of the Empress.
‘In plain terms, there was no one to organize them.’
The Emperor was occupied, and the Crown Prince—the only heir—was hampered by too many complications to host a ball. When he was younger, he lacked the years; by the time he reached age, his conduct was questionable.
God forbid a man who does nothing but idle and eat should throw a ball. He’d have lost the crown itself.
“No matter how much gold is poured into it, when the wrong man stands at its center, the whole affair loses its luster.”
And now he sits beside me, spouting nonsense from his mouth.
“But it appears His Majesty won’t be attending this ball?”
“Ah yes. His chronic illness has flared up. It’s time he took proper rest. Hah! To see the Imperial bloodline escorted so carelessly. Father would have keeled over backwards if he’d witnessed it.”
In the center of the hall stood Richard and Sasha. Contrary to Daemon’s words, Richard was performing his role brilliantly.
He was expertly keeping the flies away from Sasha.
“Tsk, tsk. To miss an opportunity to make an impression on Marquis Frost. If I were that boy, I’d have slapped the Count across the face.”
“Yes, I see.”
I offered appropriate agreement while observing Marquis Frost. After being bested by Count Kindel, the Marquis had been acting as though his shoes were on fire.
Just as he was now.
“I didn’t know the Marquis had an interest in the Crown Princess.”
“Ah, he’s just grasping at whatever he can.”
Daemon chuckled softly. The fallen Marquis’s flailing seemed to amuse him.
After watching Richard and Sasha for some time longer, Daemon rose when the hour arrived.
“Not that I’m particularly eager, but duty calls. Well then. If you feel like stepping on my feet, try to trip me instead, Bella.”
He offered this advice—or not quite advice—and extended his hand. I stared at it for a moment before taking it.
The opening act of the ball was about to begin.

* * *

From the moment he saw the carriage marked with the blue serpent, Richard’s full attention had been drawn there.
His racing heart grew cold only after he heard Daemon’s voice.
Some might ask: is it possible to hear someone speak from several meters away while dozens of carriages are unloading? But those who have reached the heights of Aura understand that it becomes harder to avoid hearing than to hear.
“Richard? Why do you look so frightened?”
Richard, who had been imagining tearing Daemon’s mouth apart, snapped back to attention. Beneath his gaze, Sasha tilted her head in confusion.
Damn.
Richard reproached himself briefly. He was here as Sasha’s partner. He hadn’t wanted to come, but now that he’d chosen to, he had to give his best. He couldn’t let Sasha’s Social Debut be ruined because of his mood, not when she had done nothing wrong.
“I apologize. My mind wandered for a moment.”
“Ugh, there you go again. I told you to speak comfortably.”
“This is the Imperial Palace. Please understand.”
Richard was delicately saying that she was a princess after all, and he couldn’t possibly speak informally before the nobility. Sasha pouted, but soon accepted it.
“Really, it’s so tedious. His Majesty still doubts whether I’m truly the Crown Princess, and Daemon….”
Richard found it easy to handle Sasha’s chatter. She was grown in body only; her mind was that of a child. More princess and imperial blood than anything else, she was simply a young girl with sparkling eyes, meeting the human world for the first time in over a decade.
He had tried not to let his gaze drift to the second-floor railing as he soothed her, guided her into the hall, and waited for the Opening Dance to begin.
It didn’t take long to realize how futile such efforts were.
“Wow, isn’t Bella really beautiful?”
The Opening Dance.
The signal shot fired by the host of the ball, the moment when all eyes converge.
Though logic suggested Sasha should have danced, Daemon was hardly the sort to yield such a thing. Sasha wasn’t the type to fight over it either, so it was inevitable that Daemon claimed the Opening Dance.
“That dress really suits Bella.”
Richard forced himself to turn his head at Sasha’s words. A couple he could not ignore came into view.
In the center of the hall, spinning in circles, was Isabella beside Daemon. Beneath the Chandelier, she wore a dress that sparkled with dozens of refractions of light, and she was laughing brightly.
“Beautiful, isn’t she?”
“Yes.”
Richard could not tear his eyes from Isabella as she moved with grace, holding Daemon’s hand. He hated to admit it, but Isabella looked happy holding Daemon’s hand.
Draped in treasures of the Imperial Family that no sum of money could buy, holding the hand of the Empire’s most powerful man.
“They’ll marry, won’t they?”
“……The Duke is wasted on her.”
“Is that so? I thought they made a fine pair. Oh—look, Isabella seems to be saying something to Daemon. His expression’s turned sour.”
Richard hadn’t missed that fraction of a second either. The warmth that had animated Daemon’s face drained away in an instant—a look Richard knew all too well.
But it lasted only a moment. Daemon’s eyes narrowed into a smile, and he tilted his head toward Isabella.
“Hmm? Now Isabella looks upset. Are they quarreling?”
Sasha’s expression suggested she hadn’t caught a word of what Daemon said. For an ordinary person, that would have been expected.
But Richard was no ordinary person—and the only problem was that his attention had been divided by conversation with Sasha, leaving him deaf to their exchange. The shape of lips alone would have been enough to piece together their words, yet Isabella’s were hidden from view. Richard hadn’t missed Daemon’s, though.
And Daemon’s lips, he did not miss.
‘Revoke the title.’
That alone was enough to understand the situation.
Daemon was threatening Isabella. With her title, no less.
‘Just now?’
Lovers quarreled all the time. But a title? It was far too grave a subject for a mere spat over affection. And not just any title—the Dukedom of Bellua itself.
‘On what grounds?’
The Dukedom of Bellua was among the most distinguished houses in the Empire’s nobility. Never mind anything else—the mere fact that Bellua’s territories bordered the Capital spoke volumes of its standing. If the hunting festival held each Social Season were hosted in Bellua’s domain, that said everything.
Just then the violin drew out a long note, signaling the end of the piece. Daemon and Isabella stepped apart as if nothing had passed between them, bowing to each other—though Daemon’s was little more than a nod.
The moment the courtesy was done, Isabella spun on her heel and vanished into the crowd.
Daemon showed no alarm whatsoever. He accepted a Wine Glass from an attendant with the air of a man who’d expected exactly this.
“Sasha.”
“Yes?”
“Might I trouble you for a moment alone?”
“Of course, of course. I’ll ask Daemon for a dance—you go on.”
Richard considered whether he ought to mention that ladies didn’t request dances, but thought better of it. Isabella’s situation took precedence.
With a slight nod, Richard turned toward the direction Isabella had gone. Several nobles tried to intercept him, but he brushed past them all without breaking stride.
Word would no doubt spread that the Earl of Winston was arrogant. He didn’t care. He’d caught sight of the hem of a dress that glittered brilliantly even in the soft light, watched it disappear beyond the Terrace threshold.
So when he reached the Terrace doors before they could be locked, Richard saw her.
“Why are you crying.”
Isabella’s tears, luminous in the spill of light from the ballroom.

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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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