The French Emperor approached Olivia with an overly sweet voice, praising her while accompanied by the Empress.
Upon seeing the Emperor, Olivia puffed her cheeks and shouted, “Hmph! I don’t want to hear such compliments from you, Father?!”
Her attitude was clearly different from how she interacted with the President.
It’s starting to feel familiar now.
Hearing Olivia’s words, the Emperor slumped onto his seat and wept, “Ugh! How could you say such harsh things to your father? When our Olivia was seven, she said she wanted to marry Daddy!”
Seven years old? Marry Daddy? Unbelievable.
[Uncle, seriously. When are you going to stop believing that nonsense so seriously? It’s embarrassing for me, really.]
Even the Black Prince, who’s a part of the same family and is hopelessly infatuated with Olivia, can’t even defend him.
Is this really okay for the French royal family?
“W-What nonsense are you spouting!! If you’re going to keep saying such ridiculous things, just disappear from my sight!!”
Olivia shouted, her face turning bright red.
“To… disappear? You really don’t want that… I can’t believe this…”
The Emperor’s eyes wavered.
The trend of national pride followed by a light novel daughter-complex gag scene is truly unpredictable chaos in this crazy world.
Smack.
“Hurry up and get up! What a disgrace this is in front of the guests?”
The Empress slapped the Emperor on the back again.
Only then did he snap back to reality, rising and looking at me with an unknown passion glowing in his eyes—different from how he looked at Olivia.
What’s up with him, it’s overwhelming.
“It’s all because of you ruffian, ahem. No, it’s thanks to you, my apologies. I misspoke. I must thank you again for your contributions. Care for a handshake?”
Does he really think I’d buy such a ridiculous excuse?
Who’s the ruffian here?
This is why doting fathers are problematic.
The Emperor extended his hand.
It’s bad manners to refuse a handshake from the French Emperor in an official setting.
For the sake of image management, I just had to shake hands.
“Of course, it’s fine. It’s an honor, Your Majesty.”
I replied in English while shaking his hand.
Crunch.
The Emperor tightened his grip.
A childish handshake battle.
There’s no need to fight back.
“Remember when I said I wouldn’t let it slide if you made our daughter cry? I trust that’s etched in your heart?”
The Emperor whispered in my ear.
Absolutely absurd.
“I haven’t forgotten.”
I casually replied while pulling my hand away.
His grip was tight enough to turn my hand red.
I awkwardly laughed while shaking my hand.
I bet I’ll never shake hands again.
[Sorry, partner. Our uncle can be like that, can’t he? I’ll apologize on his behalf.]
At that moment when I thought how lucky I was that even the Black Prince had some decency.
“What are you doing?! Father! What did you just do to this person?! Look at his red hand?! Don’t tell me you had a childish handshake battle or something?!”
“Did you just have a tug-of-war or something?!”
Olivia blushed as she turned to the Emperor, demanding an explanation.
“Oh, no, um, that was…”
“I really hate my dad!!”
Olivia landed the final blow on the flustered Emperor.
[This is a bit… Poor uncle… You should have handled this better.]
Even the Black Prince felt sorry for the Emperor.
This is getting more ridiculous by the minute.
“Cough!”
“I’ll apologize on his behalf. I’m sorry, Mr. Kim Deok-Sung.”
The Empress bowed her head, apologizing for the crying Emperor.
“Oh, uh, it’s fine…”
To be honest, I wasn’t even angry.
I was just utterly dumbfounded.
It felt like watching a sitcom.
“Well then, I hope you both enjoy the ball. Today you two are the main characters.”
The Empress smiled gracefully, wrapping up the situation.
She dragged the Emperor away again, just like the last time in the hospital room. Doesn’t she ever get tired of this?
“Ahem, ahem!”
Olivia, still holding my hand, was blushing and trembling.
“Then, um, since we’re at the ball, would you care to dance with me, your partner? I mean, it’s not like I particularly want to dance with you or anything, so don’t get the wrong idea…”
Just as Olivia was about to unleash her tsundere line…
“Wait a second, Miss Bonaparte.”
A cold voice whispered in my ear.
In the middle of a ballroom that was buzzing with French, I heard a familiar voice speaking Japanese.
Olivia’s eyebrows twitched.
She turned her head towards the source of the voice.
There stood…
“Are you planning to monopolize Mr. Deok-Sung again, Bonaparte? Such a greedy little junior. Bad junior.”
Hoshino Kasumi, her cheeks puffed up, was looking quite adorable in a deep purple dress that matched her hair color, adjusting the star-shaped gem on her headband.
“This time, I want to dance with Mr. Deok-Sung too. So, Mr. Deok-Sung, will you accept?”
“Right, Your Highness. Cutting in line is bad.”
Eri poked her head out from beside Kasumi, glaring at Olivia while wearing a bright orange mini dress.
“Bonaparte, did you think we wouldn’t know if you tried to monopolize him like that? We also have the right to dance with him.”
A blunt voice chimed in next.
There was Rin, in a black dress that contrasted sharply with Olivia’s white dress, showcasing her ample chest and slim waist, her hair tied in a ponytail with a butterfly-shaped accessory. She still had her katana strapped to her waist—how ridiculous.
“Geeez…”
Makoto stared blankly, still making noise with her mouth.
She was also wearing a light green dress that accentuated her curves, sporting a sparkling diamond hairpin.
“I don’t really understand why I have to be in a place like this… but we mustn’t engage in unwholesome activities. Do you get that?”
Lastly, there was Aris in a sky-blue dress, her silvery hair shimmering under the chandelier lights, her mysterious silver eyes sweeping over me and Olivia.
“Uuugh…”
Olivia bit her lip, glaring at the five girls.
“H-how did you all get here so fast…?”
She bit her lip, her face turning red.
Here we go again.
I clicked my tongue internally.
No, this isn’t the time for this.
If this keeps up, I’m going to have to dance some cursed dance.
Me, who has never even entered a club in my life, doing a social dance?
‘That’s not happening.’
I need to sneak out of here before things get messy.
Right now, I could really use Han Seo-Jin… I looked around.
I could only see Bella, but where’s Han Seo-Jin? Where did she go?
As I shifted my gaze elsewhere, I spotted Han Seo-Jin behind the five girls.
Why the hell is she over there?
“Is it a thing?”
“Your Highness, this is too much. We came all the way from Japan to France just to help you… It’s unfair for you to monopolize everything… Sob.”
Eri collapses on the floor, sobbing.
Her act is obviously fake and painfully overdone.
“This time, I agree with the ‘washing board’—I mean, Nishizawa. Bonaparte, we have the right to dance with him too.”
“That’s right! Bonaparte, the saying goes that a quiet cat gets the first spot on the stove, and that’s exactly what’s happening!”
“Geeeee…”
Rin, Kasumi-senpai, and Makoto chime in, supporting Eri’s performance.
Meanwhile, Aris stands with her arms crossed, glancing over at us with pursed lips.
Olivia heaves a sigh, and the five girls continue to pressure in a tense standoff.
“The Master’s master is the princess’…”
Bella steps forward to say something but is interrupted.
“Wait a second.”
Olivia cuts in.
She fiddles with her dress and speaks softly, her head lowered.
“…You’re right. About this incident. And I also appreciate your help… I won’t forget that favor either. The Bonaparte royal family never forgets a kindness. So… um, he’s my partner, but…”
Olivia stammers, her face turning red.
“Today, I’ll *graciously* allow it! To dance with him, that is! Everyone, be thankful for my generous decision! Got it?! So Nishizawa, stop crying, okay!? This is really making me stressed out!”
She strikes a pose with one hand on her chest, pointing dramatically with a proud expression.
Why do you get to permit me to dance?
What a joke.
As soon as Olivia finishes, Eri jumps up with a smile as if she hadn’t been crying at all.
“Thank goodness. I was worried the princess would monopolize again.”
“Hmph.”
Now’s my chance to sneak away.
I absolutely loathe dancing.
[You’ll regret this.]
Just as I have the Black Prince’s warning in my ear and try to slip away…
“Hey, you!”
Olivia’s call grabs my ankle.
Damn it.
“Master, who are you going to dance with first?”
Eri’s voice follows.
[I told you, you’d regret it, partner.]
The Black Prince scratches my nerves.
Sigh.
Yeah, what did I ever expect in this ridiculous world? When has anything ever gone as I wanted?
Resigning myself, I turn away.
“Make your choice, Kim Deok-Sung.”
Rin looks at me and says.
Six girls, dressed in a variety of dresses, gaze at me.
A headache starts to pound. My temples throb.
If this were a light novel, it’d be a scene worthy of a color spread and monochrome illustrations, but unfortunately, this is reality.
Is this a comedy from a distance and a tragedy up close?
What a joke.
Why is this such a big deal about me?
Who is the main character here?
Six pairs of eyes are on me.
[This happened during the summer festival too, right? Partner?]
The Black Prince mocks me with laughter in my head.
I think it was like this back then.
Who will you choose?
[Whew. They’re all beautiful ladies. Deciding the order won’t be easy.]
Back then, I chose Olivia.
Most of the others wore yukatas while I stood out in a hanbok.
While I’m recalling that memory…
Suddenly.
Olivia raises a hand to her chest and declares, “This time, I’ll specially take the last dance with him. Be thankful for my generosity. Got it?”
Olivia self-appoints as last in line.
Her lips twitch in a mischievous grin.
[Oh, my lovely sister. Your heart is as vast as the ocean.]
“Lovely little sister. Your heart is as vast as the ocean.”
The clueless line from the Black Prince, who seems completely unfazed.
Just as Olivia took a step back.
“Junior, of course I’m your number one slave and dedicated spy, so you’ll choose me, right?”
Hoshino Kasumi gazes at me, clasping her hands in a prayer-like manner over her chest.
“Master, this time it’s gotta be Eri-Ring as number one, right?”
Eri bounces beside her, touching her collar and grinning.
“Master, I hope you’ll pick me this time! I want to go first!”
Then there’s Makoto, timidly placing her hand on her chest.
“I don’t really care about the order, but as they say, it’s better to be the first in line.”
Aris peeks over at us with a glance.
Next to her stands…
“Ugh…”
Rin, biting her lip.
She lifts her previously bowed head.
Her navy ponytail sways.
“Kim Deok-Sung! This time… this time…”
Rin places her hand on her chest, speaking in a solemn tone.
“This time, I want to be your first! So, please… choose me…?”
Her shoulders tremble.
Tears drop from Rin’s eyes.
The eyes of those around us focus on her.
[Oh my, did that guy make the girl cry? So the rumors about him having someone other than the princess are true? They call him the Black Beast, huh? Seems like that’s the reason. A bad boy who makes girls cry—how oddly charming, maybe? They murmur around.]
In my head, the Black Prince unnecessarily translates in French.
Hearing that typical extra line makes me feel even dizzier.
Why is she crying?
This is awkward.
Knowing Rin, she’ll continue crying until I tell her to go first.
That’ll only put me in a tough spot.
I can’t handle this.
“I’ll go first, so please stop crying. Please.”
I sigh and point at Rin.
Are you a child?
“Is that really true? Am I really first?”
Rin widens her tear-filled eyes and asks, pointing at herself with disbelief.
“Yeah. But I can’t dance, is that alright?”
“Y-Yeah, that’s fine! I can teach you! After all, I’m part of Japan’s top noble family.”
With a confident attitude as if she hadn’t just been crying, Rin places her hand on her chest.
“Hmph, cow. Using tears as a weapon, how cowardly.”
“Junior seems surprisingly weak to tears. Got it. I’ll remember that.”
“Master, I’m first next time, right?”
“I didn’t really wish for that, but…”
I see Eri grumbling at Rin’s reaction, Hoshino Kasumi making a ridiculous face, timid Makoto, and Aris tapping the floor in her heels, annoyed.
[Partner, which lady are you going to dance with second?]
The Black Prince asks in a voice mixed with laughter.
Next? At this rate, we’ll be finishing the ball before deciding the order.
Is there a good way to handle this?
Just as I momentarily drifted into thought, a decent idea popped into my mind.
I look at the girls staring at me intently and say.
“Let’s do this: besides Olivia, who volunteered to go last, and Rin, who’s going first, let’s dance in the order we met. Fair and square.”
As soon as I finish speaking, a brief moment of silence follows.
“Sounds good. Then Eri-Ring will be second. Since she’s partnered with Master.”
“Then it’s me? I’m not thrilled about being third, but at least it’s a front-row number, so I’ll be satisfied, Junior.”
“I’m fourth, then. I don’t really care about the order, but that’s a peculiar number.”
“I’m right before the last… You’ll choose me first next time, right, Master?”
