Chapter 67 …
The Curse Faced
Bella arrived at the hall and took a moment to catch her breath. What kind of event was so grandiose?
Even before entering, her head felt like it was spinning. Yet, she checked her bag several times to make sure it hadn’t accidentally opened.
Watching her, Riddell playfully grabbed her hand and asked,
“Are you nervous?”
“Not really,” Bella replied.
Her expression, however, showed no sign of nervousness at all. If anything, it leaned toward mild disdain. She clearly didn’t like seeing so much money being spent on this event, considering how they always claimed the treasury was low to justify cutting funds.
“That’s strange. I thought you’d be extremely tense.”
“Oh, if you see me that way, then you must have the wrong idea about my position.”
“Huh?”
Just then, a servant announced Bella and Riddell’s names, and the doorman was about to open the doors. Bella, composed and confident, smiled at Riddell.
“I hunt. Do you think I’d fear the prey?”
“Ha.”
With that, the hall doors opened, and Bella stepped in as if she were the star of the event. Riddell, dazed, entered a step behind her.
All eyes turned toward them. The hall seemed to host around a hundred attendees, of which only a handful of women—including Bella—were present.
“Oh, well, attention’s properly caught.”
Riddell chuckled softly and whispered into Bella’s ear. Bella nodded and glanced around.
Why had the king gathered common-born businessmen in this hall? No matter how she thought about it, the event seemed like a well-orchestrated play.
“So, it looks like I’m the lead. I suppose I should play the part.”
Bella let out a half-hearted laugh and confidently made her way to the center.
A few businessmen who were at least acquainted with Riddell approached to greet them.
“Lord of Mist, long time no see.”
“I told you, it’s President of Mist. And this is my first time seeing you at the palace.”
“Haha, indeed. One can never guess the king’s intentions, but isn’t he about to make a move?”
“Haha, who knows.”
Riddell skillfully dodged the conversation and naturally introduced Bella to the others. With Riddell nearby, no one dared to disrespect her; Riddell held the most influence in information and finance, so no businessperson would want to cross him.
Thanks to Riddell, Bella smoothly integrated into the crowd, lifting her chin slightly as she surveyed the hall.
A strange chill kept creeping over her—an instinctive sense of fear and rejection, much like what she had felt with Chey.
“Lord of Mist.”
“Huh?”
Bella nudged Riddell’s arm with her elbow and pointed at something. Following her finger, he saw wine prepared and ready to drink.
“Don’t touch this type. No matter what happens.”
“Just the red wine?”
“Yes.”
Bella frowned slightly and scanned the empty podium. Her suspicions were confirmed.
The royal family was behind the curse placed on Chey. Evidence came from the faint chill emanating from the red wine.
Her senses sharpened from constant contact with Chey, Bella noticed something moving within the red wine, like wriggling insects.
“Hah.”
She let out a bitter laugh and shook her head. She guessed the king’s purpose in hosting this event.
“Power maintained not by the divine, but by a curse.”
As Bella murmured this, someone opened the door to the hall on this floor.
“His Majesty, the King!”
“Greetings to the Sun.”
When the king appeared on the podium, everyone in the hall bowed deeply. Bella followed suit but stole a quick glance at the king.
“…!”
At that moment, Bella and the king’s eyes met directly. A chilling cold ran through her, making her shiver and quickly lower her gaze.
It wasn’t intimidation—it felt like confronting something that resembled a human but wasn’t one.
“Thank you for coming such a long way. I have prepared a grand party for you, so enjoy it fully.”
“May glory be with us!”
At the king’s greeting, everyone recited the prepared phrase in unison. The king watched with satisfaction as all bowed before him.
“Since you’ve all gathered here, it’s only fitting to have a celebratory drink. Everyone, raise your glasses.”
“….”
Bella glanced at the table and picked up a glass of water instead of red wine. Riddell, noticing her move, also raised a glass of water alongside his red wine.
“Hmm.”
The king’s gaze fell on Bella. She kept calm and discreetly observed him with a sideways glance.
Nothing seemed unusual—slender build, sharp features, impeccably dressed, and a ring.
A ring?
Bella’s eyes landed on the king’s ring, glowing red.
“….”
Found it.
Worried the king might find her curious, Bella quickly looked toward Riddell. Fortunately, the king seemed uninterested in confronting her and ignored her raising the water glass.
Watching everyone else drink the cursed red wine was horrifying, but it wasn’t something Bella could stop. How could she explain it? “The wine is cursed, and the culprit is His Majesty the King”? Not a chance anyone would believe that.
“Riddell. We’ve learned a lot.”
After the toast ended and the king descended from the podium, Bella quickly led Riddell to a corner, avoiding the king’s gaze.
“Already? I didn’t notice anything unusual.”
“I can see it. The ghost.”
“A… ghost?”
As Riddell frantically looked around, Bella grabbed his collar and pulled him close, making sure he paid attention. Their proximity mixed their warm breaths.
“No, not a ghost. Listen carefully. The one behind the curse on Chey… is the king.”
“…Are you serious? What proof?”
Riddell paled at the revelation.
“The red wine was cursed, like the ones given to Count Tresi and Count Karl.”
Bella whispered quickly, keeping watch for the king. Riddell’s expression grew serious as he processed her words.
If the royal family was behind cursing Duke Prelode and planned to manipulate other nobles, it wasn’t just sacrilegious—it threatened the very foundation of the kingdom.
As Bella prepared to mention the king’s ring, an unwelcome voice drew their attention.
“So, Lord of Mist has such a lover? I had no idea.”
Startled, Bella held her breath and stayed silent. Riddell instinctively stepped forward, subtly shielding her and greeting the king with practiced familiarity.
“Greetings to the Sun.”
“Do you only show this mask to your lover?”
The king smirked and casually tapped Riddell’s mask. It was insulting, but Riddell laughed, feigning ease.
“Haha, sometimes I do remove it, but it doesn’t look pleasant.”
“Oh? Can you even kiss her like that? How polite of you.”
The king’s intent to provoke Riddell was obvious. This wasn’t a private conversation—it was in front of a hall of over a hundred businessmen. He was trying to assert dominance publicly.
Should they bow, or confront the king here and now?
In that moment, Bella stepped forward, speaking nonchalantly.
“She’s very precious to me. Painful things hurt, but they aren’t ugly. I just think about how much it must have hurt.”
There was no scar under the mask, yet Riddell felt his earlobes heat up and adjusted them with his hand.
The king observed the pair, narrowing his eyes.
“Oh? Is your name Bella Oshik?”
“Yes. It’s an honor to meet the Sun in person. A pride for my family.”
“I don’t want pretense. That’s why I also hold the Lord of Mist in high regard.”
The king placed his hand on Bella’s shoulder, slowly stroking it before letting go.
His hand was unnaturally cold. If one had to compare, it felt like a centipede crawling, ready to bite at any moment.
