Chapter 62

“I feel so embarrassed.”

In the resplendent banquet hall, Greya lowered his head, feeling the peculiar glances he was getting from all around.

But it seemed that Lynn, with his crow mask, didn’t share the same sentiment.

He held a drink in his hand, slurping it through the straw inserted into the eyeholes of the mask, “Slurp slurp.”

“Anyway, I’m wearing a mask, so if anything’s embarrassing, it’s just you guys from the Augusta family.”

He said with a cheerful grin.

Meanwhile, he casually scanned the room.

The banquet had already begun.

People were milling about the hall, while on the central stage, musicians played a delightful waltz.

A long dining table was covered with an exquisite patterned tablecloth, adorned with expensive silver candlesticks, and laden with steaks, desserts, fruits, and various cold dishes for all to enjoy.

There were already over two hundred guests present, not counting the servants.

The scene was nothing short of grand.

The entire Tilius mansion was lavishly decorated; the crystal chandelier from the ceiling cast a warm yellow glow, and the floor’s tiles shimmered with gilded patterns.

Though the ball hadn’t started yet, people were dispersed in small groups across the hall, sipping champagne and chatting away.

As for Her Highness the Princess, she was immediately welcomed by several young ladies and noblewomen from the Tilius family as soon as she entered.

The scene of her being ostracized did not occur as one might have imagined.

After all, these folks came from ducal families, and Ivyst was of royal blood.

As long as the masks stayed on, the etiquette was sure to be observed.

“That over there is the bishop in charge of the Church of Heavenly Justice for Orlen City.” Just then, Greya suddenly lowered his voice, “His name is Mozell Brandy; he’s the most renowned invisible power player around here, rumored to be deeply entangled with many big nobles in the Imperial Capital.”

Lynn gazed at the middle-aged man in robes, pondering.

At that moment, the lights in the mansion dimmed slightly, then focused on the third-floor corridor.

All eyes turned upward.

There stood a robust middle-aged man in military uniform at the staircase’s edge.

He looked about forty, with sleek black hair slicked back, a muscular build, and countless honor medals adorning the chest of his military garb.

Baylor Tilius, the host of this evening’s festivities and the head of the Tilius family.

His authoritative gaze swept over the crowd.

Seeing everyone silent and nervously staring at him, Duke Tilius suddenly broke into a smile.

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to this charity fundraising gala.” His voice boomed, “I hope you’ll have fun and enjoy yourselves during this long night.”

“And for those still single, I have just one request.”

“Get out of that single status!”

“Enjoy this banquet and the ball afterward!”

With that, he raised his glass and downed it in one go.

At that moment, the atmosphere of the banquet heated up, quickly reaching a peak.

Then, Duke Tilius descended the stairs, picking up another drink from a servant’s tray as he walked among the crowd.

Sometimes he’d stop for a friendly chat with a lady, at other times, he’d engage in hushed conversations with a nobleman, or share a smile.

Though he was a soldier, he was firmly rooted in the upper echelons of the Empire, so he knew the ropes quite well.

However, after watching for a while, Lynn noticed something off.

By all rights, the most distinguished guest of the evening—if not Ivyst—should at least rank high up in the list.

Yet this old-timer had already swapped out a few glasses of wine, mingling merrily with numerous local nobles in Orlen City, even those he wasn’t familiar with had received his greetings.

But he completely skipped over Her Highness the Princess.

From start to finish, he hadn’t once approached her to chat.

Lynn couldn’t help but glance toward Ivyst, standing among the ladies.

While she still engaged in occasional small talk with those around her, Lynn, who knew her well, sensed a chill in her red eyes. Clearly, Ivyst had picked up on Duke Tilius’s snub.

Sending an invitation and maintaining proper etiquette showed politeness and respect for the royalty as nobles.

Yet as a soldier, he didn’t want to mix in too early with royal selection and show where his loyalties lay.

Or maybe he simply wasn’t impressed with Ivyst.

No matter which way you spun it, it was enough to leave her feeling displeased.

“Do you feel like the temperature just dropped a bit?”

Greya suddenly said.

“Heh.”

Time flew by.

Before long, the dinner portion was halfway through.

Looking at the donation box being wheeled to the center of the hall, everyone fell into silence.

Clearly, the next part was the highlight of the night.

They all understood that the Tilius family wasn’t genuinely unable to provide that compensation for disabled soldiers.

It was merely a pretext to test the waters.

Or perhaps to pressure some folks to take a stand.

Gazing at the silent crowd, Duke Tilius seemed oblivious: “Ladies and gentlemen, it’s time for the charity donation segment. Thank you for your generous attendance tonight; I extend my heartfelt respect on behalf of over twenty thousand disabled soldiers from the Military Department.”

With that, he bowed slightly in front of everyone.

In an instant, the crowd fell into silence, glancing around as though waiting to see how others would act.

Clearly, no one wanted to be the first to step up.

The power dynamics in Orlen City were incredibly complex, with intricate ties between families—just two families alone might have deep-rooted interests entwined.

They were well aware that Duke Tilius was trying to get them to show their colors. But stepping out first would mean kissin’ goodbye to their carefree days in Orlen City; once he left, they’d surely face suppression and rejection from all forces in the city.

According to the accumulated tax debts over the years, the numbers were astronomical.

If they had to repay all, it would be catastrophic.

Rather than get their own skin flayed, it was better to band together and let Duke Tilius know who the locals really are.

Moreover, even if someone had to take the plunge, it wouldn’t fall to them.

Observing the scene before him, Duke Tilius’s eyes squinted slightly as if he understood what was going on.

“Clap! Clap!”

Suddenly, applause erupted, drawing everyone’s attention toward the source of the sound.

They watched as the middle-aged man in robes made his way through the crowd, clapping his hands, showing a respectful expression.

“I’ve long heard of how compassionate Duke Tilius is toward soldiers, and seeing it today, it truly lives up to the tales; I greatly admire it.”

“Although Orlen City is on the border and the Church of Heavenly Justice struggles here, in humanitarian concern for soldiers defending our homeland, I shall represent this diocese and donate five thousand gold coins to the Military Department.”

With that, he dropped an envelope into the donation box.

“Thank you for your generosity.”

Duke Tilius said flatly.

In terms of donations, that was undoubtedly a huge amount, yet he didn’t show any sign of joy.

Meanwhile, applause echoed through the hall.

Hearing the commotion behind him, Mozell made a hush gesture, then looked seriously at Duke Tilius.

“Furthermore, I have another gift I would like to present to Duke Tilius and all the esteemed guests present.”