IITYVA 45

Chapter 45

Ch. 8 – It’s Been 5 Years Since I Last Attended a Banquet

That damn banquet had finally begun.

“The contractor of the Water Spirit King, Lady Einra, and the shaman, Lord Harnen, are entering!”

Heavy doors swung open in front of us.

A dazzling flood of light poured through the gap, nearly blinding me.

Inside, nobles were gathered in small groups, chatting quietly. All of their gazes shifted to us.

I hadn’t even taken a single step yet, but I already wanted to go home.

…Well, truthfully, I’d wanted to go home since last night.

Sensing my hesitation, Harnen, who was escorting me, let out a low chuckle.

“It’s okay, Einra. You’ll be able to leave soon.”

He spoke gently, as if comforting me.

I had the urge to ask, “How soon, exactly?”, but I forced a smile and nodded.

“Yeah, Harnen.”

If my favorite person is trying to comfort me, I can endure this much!

Straightening my back and recalling the etiquette lessons I’d learned, I stepped forward confidently.

As we walked, all the eyes in the hall followed us intently.

With a polite smile perfected from my past experience in social circles, I made my way to the emperor seated at the throne.

“Einra, blessed by the Water King, greets His Majesty the Emperor.”

“Harnen, the shaman, greets His Majesty the Emperor.”

Bowing with Harnen, we paid our respects. The emperor, receiving our greetings with a graceful smile, spoke.

“You may both raise your heads now.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“I hear that Spiritist Einra and Shaman Harnen were classmates, graduating at the youngest age from the Atlanta Academy. For Einra to choose Harnen as her partner for her first banquet after returning to the capital—your friendship is truly admirable.”

The emperor lazily flicked his left hand.

An attendant stepped forward and offered us a tray.

The tray was laden with various wines and beverages.

“Please, each of you take one.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.”

Harnen and I answered politely and each took a glass.

The attendant stepped back quietly.

The emperor continued.

“This banquet was personally arranged by me to celebrate your return to the capital, Einra. I hope you enjoy it to the fullest.”

“I am deeply honored by your grace.”

After politely replying, Harnen and I stepped down from the dais at the emperor’s gesture.

The moment our feet touched the floor of the hall, the nobles—who had been stealing glances—began to sharpen their gazes.

Their eyes glinted like predators spotting prey. I felt a chill run down my spine.

…This reminds me a little of the first time I entered high society.

The memory of the first banquet I attended after officially receiving the title of Spiritist under the Elberk imperial family wasn’t a pleasant one.

The nobles wanted to curry favor with me, using the Water Spirit King behind me as leverage, hoping to gain my goodwill or forge ties.

But not all of them had those intentions.

Some nobles were jealous and envious of me.

Some disliked that a commoner like me, blessed merely by natural affinity, had entered their sacred social world.

And now, I had walked straight into their domain again—what better prey could they ask for?

They didn’t miss the opportunity to mess with the clueless commoner.

“Oh my! Aren’t you two the ones who graduated as the youngest from the Atlanta Academy?”

While Harnen and I were quietly nibbling on finger food in the corner to stay under the radar, a group of nobles approached.

They looked young on the surface, but their status trumped everything, so we hurried to greet them.

But clearly unimpressed, they began nitpicking.

“Are you two foreigners, perhaps? You seem quite unfamiliar with Elberk’s etiquette.”

“Oh, right. You’re commoners, aren’t you? I guess that explains the lack of proper education.”

Giggles.

As the laughter spread, more attention turned our way.

They didn’t want to miss the chance to humiliate us in front of everyone. They began firing questions about high-society knowledge only nobles would likely know.

“We have a question for the brilliant youngest graduates of the Atlanta Academy.”

“You two are so intelligent—you must be familiar with the painting Portrait of an Era by Sir Keliano, the famed painter of the ancient Feynal Kingdom. Could you explain the aesthetic difference between its style and modern art?”

It was painfully obvious they hoped we’d stumble and make fools of ourselves.

But who was Harnen?

He was literally an emperor in his past life.

Could there be a better comeback?

Unbothered by their pathetic provocation, Harnen simply smiled and began:

“Sir Keliano’s Portrait of an Era is regarded as a masterpiece that utilizes negative space effectively. It retains his dark and rugged brushwork, making it quite distinct from the more refined tonal emphasis seen in modern art.”

“H-ha, yes, of course. You know it well…”

Their attempt to embarrass us had failed, and they awkwardly tried to redirect the conversation with a new question.

But Harnen didn’t let that slide.

“Though I do find it a bit curious. You’re the first person to bring up technique when discussing Portrait of an Era.”

“Pardon? What do you mean…?”

“Most people interpret the piece through the message Sir Keliano intended to convey—things like the madness of the era depicted throughout the work, or the individual’s resistance against overwhelming oppression.”

A flood of knowledge, far beyond what they knew, poured from Harnen’s mouth.

Even when they fell into stunned silence, stiff as boards, Harnen’s explanation continued smoothly.

“Portrait of an Era depicts people who rose against the oppressive rule of a foreign nation, only to be executed by its army. The soldiers are armed, while the soon-to-be-executed are defenseless. Resistance is meaningless. Sir Keliano highlights this using the angel statue shrouded in darkness—a visual metaphor within the negative space.”

“…”

“The key figures in the painting are those about to be executed. There’s the defeated, the weeping, the stoic, the avoiding. And among them, only one person dressed in white is shouting with both arms raised. Even in the face of hopelessness, he resists the army.”

Like a professor lecturing, Harnen concluded with a calm smile.

“To resist, even knowing it’s futile. To defy, even knowing one will be crushed. That’s the message Sir Keliano wished to convey through Portrait of an Era.”

In other words, the whole discussion about painting style you opened with? Clearly the words of someone unfamiliar with the work, my little nobles.

That’s what Harnen’s gentle, arrogant smile seemed to say.

Realizing only now they’d been played, their faces flushed with embarrassment.

They kept throwing questions at him after that, but Harnen answered with composure—and even started playing with them for fun.

Eventually, realizing they couldn’t win, the nobles gave up on Harnen and found an excuse to send him away.

Now I was their sole target.

“Since the shaman has unfortunately stepped away, we’ll have to ask you instead, Spiritist.”

“So, about the current trends in music…”

They surrounded me with fake smiles, clearly fishing for ways to mock me.

Other nobles nearby only whispered with pitying looks on their faces—none stepped forward to help.

After all, I was the youngest top graduate of the continent’s most prestigious academy, the Atlanta Academy—and the only person in the world to have made a contract with the Water Spirit King.

They were curious about just how educated I truly was.