Chapter 82
The rest area was more crowded than before, but the couch where Eloise usually sat was still empty.
When Eloise took a seat there, Marcel joined her, carrying two glasses of lemon juice.
“Here, you must be thirsty. Drink this.”
“Thank you, Your Highness.”
Eloise took the glass Marcel handed her and elegantly sipped the lemon juice.
To drink something that sour without even flinching—being a duchess’s daughter wasn’t for just anyone.
“So, how did Miss Everton end up in that state?” Marcel asked.
“I heard the Everton family has been having some financial troubles lately, so I just wanted to buy her a new dress,” Eloise replied.
It was a ridiculous excuse, but Eloise said it so boldly that it somehow sounded convincing.
Marcel chuckled softly, like air escaping from a balloon, and motioned for a maid.
“Yes, Your Highness?”
“Bring a robe from the imperial palace for Miss Everton. Only the bottom of her dress was burned, so it should be enough to cover it. And—”
“Tell her to have ten dresses made in her name at the boutique she wants tomorrow.”
The maid bowed politely and left after receiving the orders.
Burning one dress and paying back with ten—Eloise Monclair certainly had a generous heart.
Marcel leaned slightly closer and whispered, “How’s the resonance training going?”
“It’s not as easy as I thought,” Eloise admitted.
During the summer, Marcel and Eloise had practiced mana resonance every day, but progress was slow.
The reason was obvious: I hadn’t fully awakened yet.
Since returning to the ducal household, I hadn’t transformed into my human form even once, which made me increasingly anxious.
Eloise gently stroked my back.
“There’s no need to rush. We’ll take it slowly.”
“If resonance were easy, even you wouldn’t have needed over a year,” Marcel said.
“That’s true. I’m happy with what I have now,” Eloise replied.
“Good.”
Their sweet exchange warmed my heart.
I hoped this happiness could last a long time, and my worries melted away.
I tapped Marcel’s arm lightly.
“It feels a bit formal for a long time, doesn’t it?”
“The Monclairs over there are giving us sharp looks,” he said.
“What about Étienne?”
“He’ll come in with His Majesty.”
“The Emperor?”
“Yes. The Sovereign has arrived. It’s the Founding Festival, after all.”
No sooner had he finished speaking than the doors to the banquet hall opened with the servants’ announcement.
“His Majesty the Emperor, Her Majesty the Empress, Lycan Leader, and Étienne have arrived!”
The Lycan leader had only been mentioned in the original story and never appeared, so he was an unknown figure to me.
Traditionally, the Lycan leader lived in the imperial palace, overseeing the northern regions and the capital, symbolizing cooperation between the two races.
But not this time—the Emperor had appointed Arno as Crown Prince without resonance with the next leader, straining relations with the Lycans.
They couldn’t openly oppose the empire, so sending Étienne to the palace maintained some cooperation, but the leader’s face was full of discontent.
I turned my gaze from the Lycan leader to Étienne.
He wore a similar black suit as usual, but with a black cloak adorned with golden epaulets, giving him a different presence.
Like Marcel, his hair was slicked back, making him look more mature.
Maybe because it was the first time seeing the next leader, he felt somewhat distant.
“Thank you all for attending to celebrate the Founding Festival,” the Emperor said, stepping onto the stage and giving a predictable congratulatory speech.
Étienne, who met my gaze from afar, gave a small smile.
He was already good-looking, but dressed up, he looked even more handsome.
“Focus, focus. Don’t fall for a middle schooler,” my twenty-something self protested mentally, even though my body was that of a young teen.
As the Emperor droned on, I turned my attention back to the Lycan leader.
He exuded the aura of a warrior. Broad shoulders, tall stature. Similar to Étienne, but sharper.
‘Will Étienne grow up to be like that?’ I wondered.
Noticing my gaze, the leader looked my way.
A faint smile curved his stern lips—so much like Étienne’s that I could believe he was his father.
He looked at me like a dog who’d found a toy it liked.
‘No way…’
I wanted to dismiss it as a mistake, but his piercing golden eyes never left me.
Why is he like that? I burrowed into Eloise’s side, scared.
“To Kalrenia, may it enjoy honor this year!”
“To Kalrenia, glory!”
As the Emperor raised his wine glass, the nobles echoed in unison.
At the same time, the balcony doors at the front of the hall opened, revealing the central garden.
In the center was a statue so lifelike it could be mistaken for a real dragon.
So that was the dragon statue the Duke had mentioned.
“Wow,” I gasped in admiration.
The wings stretched majestically, the horns on its head, all so delicate it could have been a real dragon preserved in sculpture.
Under the moonlight, it shone even more brilliantly.
“You must be Rizette. I recognize you instantly.”
While admiring the dragon statue, I noticed the Lycan leader and Étienne had quietly appeared beside me.
“It’s an honor to meet the Sun of the Wolves, Leader Lycan,” I said.
“I find that Empire person somewhat burdensome. Rumors about you are everywhere, Eloise,” the leader said casually.
“Leader,” Étienne said, as if restraining him.
Despite appearances, the leader had a rough manner of speaking.
No wonder he prefers to stay in the north, leaving the palace to his young son.
“Leader Lycan, you’re as formidable as ever,” Eloise replied, smiling confidently.
The leader answered calmly, as if used to such banter.
“Of course. If the next emperor is to be Marcel, I have to remain so.”
Hearing someone speak so boldly about rebellion made me think he’d get along well with Duke Monclair.
Raising children indifferently, too—they were very similar.
“Lycan, I’m disappointed you greeted my daughter before me,” the Duke said warmly, approaching the leader.
“Serge, long time no see. I came for Eloise, but also curious about this little cat. The so-called northern devil is quite insignificant.”
The difference in tone was stark. The Duchess had meant “cute,” but the leader meant “trivial.”
Étienne sighed, seemingly resigned, and whispered to me:
“Sorry. He’s always like that. I hope you understand.”
“It’s fine. He’s really different from you. He looks similar, though. Étienne, I’m glad you grew up in the palace.”
The leader laughed heartily.
“They say a puppy doesn’t know a tiger’s fear. That’s exactly you.”
“I’m not a puppy, so I know the danger. You’re not a tiger, Lycan, you’re a wolf.”
“Ha! You’re right. It’s a shame—I just found something fun in the capital, but I must leave now.”
The leader glanced toward the Emperor.
‘Go away already,’ I thought.
“Serge, accompany me. I might cause trouble if left alone. Let’s go, Étienne.”
Étienne whispered he’d see me later and stood by the leader, looking composed and serious—his demeanor reminded me he truly was the next leader.
“Alright. Madame, rest here with the children. We’ll return shortly.”
“Please go ahead.”
“Your Highness, won’t you come along?”
“No, why would I?”
The leader and Duke approached the Emperor, and Marcel was swept along with them.
Leave Marcel behind! I hadn’t even properly greeted him with Eloise.
While I lamented Marcel’s departure, the Duchess sat where he had been and fanned herself.
“It’s nice to rest a bit before enjoying the feast,” she said.
“The Founding Festival is just beginning,” Eloise replied.
Their relationship had softened, and Eloise’s expression was gentle.
Noblewomen nearby seemed eager to speak to the Monclairs but didn’t approach for some reason.
“Isn’t she going to curse us, that devilish cat?”
“We’re not trying to harm the Monclairs,” someone whispered.
I couldn’t help but feel responsible, judging from the whispers I overheard.
