170. Beggar Siblings – Incident

A bustling yet quiet dressing room.

Everyone in the backstage dressing room was communicating with gestures and movements, trying not to attract the attention of the crowd that had gathered like a cloud.

In the suffocating darkness, the only sounds were the dazzling spotlight and the footsteps of the actors on the dry wooden floor.

“Whew. Ha. Whew. Ha.”

Nervous Lena took a deep breath.

On stage, she could hear Saint Azra yelling at the demon Seares by the Rodran River and began to loosen her stiff limbs.

It was soon her turn to go on stage.

After defeating the fourth evil in the ‘Anatolea’ plains, when the despair-ridden Saint Azra slams down the brass goblet to curse the god, she would appear.

“Ah— um. Ahem. Aah.”

This was impossible. Thinking so, Lena took a step back. At this rate, her voice would crack.

Cautiously tiptoeing in barefoot so as not to make a sound, she entered her personal dressing room and gulped down some water to prepare her throat.

She felt scared. The moment the first saint stepped onto the stage, she was terrified of making a mistake in front of the focused audience.

Especially since her appearance was the finale of the [Demonios] Act 2. The stage would close on the moment when Saint Azra meets the mountain girl.

How nice it would be if her brother were here.

The tension made her limbs tremble. She wanted comfort from anyone, but sister Ksenia wasn’t around. She was on stage playing the devil, Seares, advising Saint Azra.

– Knock, knock.

Just then, someone knocked on the door. The person who entered without permission was the theater owner, Brestin.

“Lena, are you okay?”

“Yes. I-I’m fine.”

Brestin approached and turned her around, massaging Lena’s small shoulders while offering advice.

“You can do this. But even if you make a mistake, it’s alright. Who’s good from the start? Anyone can err… Not that I mean to suggest you should make a mistake, but if you’re going to, do it confidently and splendidly.”

“…Are you telling me to make a mistake or not?”

“Well, it’s all in how you take it, Lena.”

Pfft. Lena smiled back and turned.

“Alright. Then, I’ll go make a splendid mistake.” Saying that, she boldly left the dressing room.

Brestin stood there for a moment, recalling Kasha’s figure as the small, frail girl opened the door and disappeared.

The barefoot girl who ran in to ask for her father’s release. After the funeral, he worried she might end up committing suicide, and now the young prostitute returned looking gaunt yet bold. As she came back, she stabbed words into Brestin’s heart like a dagger.

– “Don’t dwell too much on the past.”

But how could one not be bound by the past? The moment she woke up on the blood-soaked bed, and the instant her mother, who had rocked her to sleep, vanished, her past remained there.

But,

– “I will now live my life.”

With Kasha’s words, the situation became unbearable. She felt regret for a life spent pushing the prostitute into a man’s loins.

What had she done for that girl, Kasha? She had only contributed to ruining her life, and the rejected gold coins felt shameful, like worthless chunks of metal.

She sought out ‘Master.’

Brestin, born to a concubine, was a bastard. Though he was an illegitimate son, he went to see Briar Zauer, the proper son of the main wife from Asran Kingdom’s ‘Count Brina.’

“I’m planning to quit my job. Please make that happen.”

The master of all the brothels, Briar Zauer, looked at him in surprise, the many creases on his face twitching as he asked.

“Why do you want to quit? Is the money I give you insufficient?”

“No, it’s not.”

“Then is it the women? I’ve kept sending you girls from my establishment? Ah, you must’ve been upset they were washed-up. It looks like you don’t sleep with them.”

Ugh.

Brestin gritted his teeth. He couldn’t bear to endure Briar’s mocking tone about how he couldn’t sleep without a woman by his side.

“Bastard.”

His expletive slipped out, and Brestin trembled all over as he spoke.

“I’m still your brother. Not by blood, but still your brother.”

“…!”

“Yeah, I knew it. That you’re not my father’s child.”

His father loved his mother. Though a concubine, he received love and thus had good schooling from a young age, threatening the position of the main wife, who could not bear children.

However, the main wife suddenly bore a son. Exactly one year after her brother Count Brina visited the Zauer family.

His father died. On the day the son was born, his father suffered a mysterious accident, and little Brestin, having lost his mother too, could do nothing. He pretended not to know anything, just to survive, becoming the dog of the Count’s household.

So… he lived.

“Do you want to die?”

Count Briar wrinkled all the creases on his face. The traces of the traditionally plump Brina family that he had hastily shed showed.

Brestin Zauer said nothing. He stood there, shaking, as if to say he could be killed anytime.

The two half-brothers, neither sharing the same blood nor being of the same race, glared at each other. For a while, then in the silence, Briar Zauer snickered.

“Alright. I’ll treat you like a brother. What do you want?”

“…I want to take over the brothel I’m in charge of. I don’t want anything more.”

That position originally belonged to him, but Brestin was fine with that. He abandoned the ‘Zauer’ name and repurposed the brothel into a theater.

For the prostitutes, it was a thunderous shock. They were perplexed, having nowhere to go or anything to do, but Brestin allowed them to live on the third floor of the theater.

No matter how well it went, it could only lead them into becoming the mistresses of worthless men.

As memories of his mother surfaced, Brestin sought out Kasha. He sold his father’s shoe store and, with Kasha’s help, who started anew in a cheaper neighborhood, freed the prostitutes one by one.

One by one… he atoned.

In the dingy dressing room, as Lena left, Brestin looked at the closed door and shook off his thoughts. He opened the door and, as she was about to step onto the stage, whispered to the girl, “Hang in there.”

With a little smile.

Lena, wearing a mask that covered half her face, smiled. She sprang up the stage stairs, filling her small body with energy.

The lively mountain girl.

I am a lively and good mountain girl.

Lena took the stage. As she shook her pocket filled with mountain berries, the dazzling spotlight shone upon her. She threw off her mask.

– Woooahhhh!!

Cheers erupted, mixed with what sounded like a scream. Blonde hair flew, and her small, lovely ears were revealed. The attractive bridge of her nose sparkled in the lights.

But beneath her beautiful jawline lurked a deep shadow. The golden eyes, filled with liveliness, shone unbearably bright, silencing the noisy audience.

She had caused an incident.

Kicking away the advice her brother repeatedly gave, she was now overwhelmed by the crowd’s thrilling gaze. But Lena, in turn, felt strangely unaffected by all their stares.

It was good her brother wasn’t here; otherwise, she would have been scolded. But really, a mask on a mountain girl? She had to take it off.

“Can’t you hear me?! You shouldn’t make such a face! Get up!”

Lena yelled at the desperate Saint Azra. The play [Demonios] wrapped up in the fervent performance of the newly emerging star like a comet.

Leo had missed it.

*

Meanwhile, in the Oberg Royal Palace. A ball was being held in the silver Liatris Hall.

The hall, named after the flower meaning ‘nobility,’ was exquisite.

Chandeliers hung from the ceiling and thousands of silver candle holders illuminated the spacious hall with dazzling light, while the semi-circular ceiling covered in mirrors and the white marble floor had the luxurious Liatris flowers engraved in silver.

The hall felt like it carried the artist’s stubbornness. Just like Liatris’ other flower meaning, ‘stubbornness.’

Leo was on duty.

He had replaced the swords of the noble’s guards with the outdated swords from the past, including those of the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd knight orders entering.

Only important figures like the Knight Commander and deputy commander, as well as the royal guards, could wield their swords inside the palace.

“Looking sharp. Feeling good?”

Katrina approached with a smirk. As a knight of the 2nd order, she wore a form-fitting uniform.

There were uniforms with skirts for female knights, but she, like the others, wore trousers with navy stripes and a cape.

“Ah, didn’t you say you’d treat us once you got paid? See? I told you, if I became a royal guard, life would be hard, right?”

“Just give me the sword already.”

“Oh? This guy has become dull, hasn’t he?”

Katrina tossed back a sword and disappeared with her companions.

Sorry, but Leo had no time to spare for Katrina right now. He was busy looking around to see when the princess might appear, where Gilbert Forte was, and where Anolf de Klaus was.

The ball was progressing without any special announcements.

It was basically a preliminary survey, where the nobles tried to get to know the prince of the Austin Kingdom who had come to meet the princess.

Despite the crowd of noble youths, young ladies, and attendants brought by Prince Klaus swirling around, Anolf’s location was clearly noticeable.

Of course, that wasn’t what Leo was focused on. Even if it was related, the person he had to prevent was not the prince.

‘Where could she be? She’s bound to show up.’

Leo wandered the ball, searching for the princess.

He found Gilbert Forte.

He was following behind his father, Count Hermann Forte, with a displeased expression as Prince Klian de Tatalia approached Prince Klaus, whose hair was navy blue. Simultaneously, Gilbert idly observed the young ladies nearby.

Leo had another option.

Instead of the princess, he could lure Gilbert Forte out, perhaps leading him outside the ballroom.

But that wasn’t a very good method.

It would be easy to tempt the womanizing Gilbert. If handsome Leo suggested going to charm some ladies together, Gilbert would agree to team up with him, but they had, after all, not seen each other since the last gathering.

Even after killing Gilbert Forte, a war had started.

And just one step ahead was the swordmaster, who towered over Leo, looking at him with a terrifying gaze, making it daunting to approach that direction.

He had to stop Princess Chloe. Only by preventing the origin of all incidents could he finally succeed.

He had a plan on how to stop the princess.

Pretend to make a mistake. Like accidentally spilling a drink on her, though a bit forced, he could also stumble and rip her dress; there were plenty of ways.

He only needed to send that woman away. If, despite his efforts, a war broke out, it would be reasonable to assume that the {war} event could not be forestalled.

‘Found her!’

After wandering the ballroom, as the tempo of the music quickened and the atmosphere ripened, Princess Chloe de Tatalia appeared.

She truly looked worthy of being called the flower of the Belita Kingdom.

Her golden straw blonde hair, cascading down to her waist, swayed elegantly, and the graceful jawline and neckline could shake a man’s focus just with their smoothness.

Her perfectly shaped, tidy eyebrows arched above large, languorous eyes filled with bright golden pupils. Her flawless white skin supported a gentle smile with the right amount of flesh.

Still, Lena was prettier.

Seeing the target, Leo hurried over. Noticing the princess moving toward the princes and Gilbert Forte, he quickened his pace and swiped one, no, two glasses of drink from a servant’s tray.

But just then,

“Sir Noel, is it?”

A man wearing finely crafted clothing made of red balaena leather, adorned with a tilting scale green brooch, stopped Leo.

It was Marquis Benard Tatian.

He scanned Leo from head to toe with cold, frosty blue eyes as if pricing him.

“Could you spare a moment? I have a proposal I would like to discuss…”

The marquis seemed to want to change locations with a slight nod.

“Sorry, but I have something urgent right now. Can we chat later?”

Why now of all times!

But Leo couldn’t be rude to Marquis Tatian. If he got offended, stopping the princess would be the least of his worries.

Leo bowed politely. Not expecting to be refused, he slipped past the marquis at the delay in his response.

Darn, I’m going to be late.

Princess Chloe was already walking toward Gilbert Forte. Even Gilbert, who had been standing idly, seemed to notice her approach and was staring at the princess.

In front of the princes. A historical affront was about to happen.

So then, my rudeness is nothing.

Leo pretended to head toward Katrina, raising a glass high. “Sister Katrina! I’m over here!” he shouted. Acting as though he hadn’t seen, he bumped right into the princess while spilling the drinks he held all over her chest.

The princess, soaked in the splash, looked down at her ample bust and lifted her head. Her eyes widened…

“I-I’m so sorry… Uhk!”

Leo’s neck was suddenly grasped. She yanked him close and kissed him.

Startled, Leo’s eyes went wide at the sight of the princess’s bright smile in front of him. She embraced him, seeming glad to have reunited and stuck her tongue in his mouth.

Silence fell over the ballroom, surrounded by that astonishing spectacle.

Marquis Benard Tatian observed Leo with an odd expression before turning away. The swordmaster glared, and Prince Klian de Tatalia sighed, clutching his forehead.

Meanwhile, the navy-haired man, Prince Anolf de Klaus, snickered unpleasantly, while Gilbert Forte’s whistle rang out, sounding rather impressed.

Whoosh-!

It was a monumental incident that would instantly make Oberg noisy.