TMBS 02💖

Chapter 2. Full Moon

Adel Norah. The sole surviving daughter of a nameless barony that crumbled into obscurity in the countryside.

By the laws of the Kingdom of Karl—“A woman cannot inherit her parents’ title or estate.”—everything had been taken from her and handed over to a distant male cousin she’d never even met. A poor, unfortunate young lady, some would say.

That was the general reputation of Adel at age twenty-four.

But truthfully, Adel didn’t seem to care much about what the world thought of her. Unlike most women in similar circumstances, she made no great effort to debut in society just to keep up appearances. Nor did she seek to marry a titled man in a bid to stay relevant in aristocratic circles.

She didn’t shy away from work typically done by maids or commoners. On the contrary, she endured life at the all-male academy with quiet resilience. After that, she became self-sufficient, working as a court officer at the royal estate in Carlo.

In time, people began to realize: she truly didn’t pity herself. And more than that—she was formidable.

Then one night, something unexpected happened. Adel, who usually never left the house outside of work, was seen wandering through a shadowy corner of downtown Carlo late at night. Even more surprisingly, she was wearing a pink silk dress—a far cry from her usual taste.

At the edge of a bustling street, near a row of glamorous buildings, a sleek carriage pulled up in front of her. The four horses snorted clouds of breath into the torchlit night.

The carriage door, adorned with the crest of a well-known count’s family, opened, and a tall man stepped out.

“Adel? You’re early.”

She looked at him for a moment, seemingly reminded of his noble status, then quickly nodded.

“Yes, Mensha. I had business in town, so I came straight here after finishing up. I guess I arrived ahead of time.”

A lie.

In truth, Adel had been there for half an hour already. She had a habit of arriving early and scouting the area before anything important—a reflection of her careful nature.

“Wow… And this dress? Didn’t know you owned something like that. You look great.”

With a warm smile, Mensha extended his hand to her. Adel hesitated, but eventually accepted the escort, doing her best not to make it awkward.

“I think that’s my line, actually.”

Mensha was her direct supervisor—the head of the Finance Department at the royal court in Carlo. Adel knew he came from a noble line, but his easygoing demeanor at work made the luxury of his attire and the grandeur surrounding him feel strangely foreign.

Mensha felt the same about her.

“Adel, wearing something bright—imagine that.”

“Does it look strange?”

“No, not at all. It suits you.”

They both stared at each other’s unfamiliar appearances for a moment before bursting into laughter.

“Thank you for agreeing to this, Mensha.”

To Adel’s polite gratitude, Mensha simply gave a playful wrinkle of his nose.

“Think nothing of it. Now shall we, my lady?”

Adel, usually so blunt, gathered the hem of her dress and gave a small curtsy like a proper lady. Mensha looked at her with amused surprise and chuckled.

Maybe it was the warmth of his hand in hers, but Adel felt a twinge of guilt. She had asked a kind superior for a personal favor—to bring her to “Full Moon.”

But that fleeting guilt quickly passed. Adel had come here for a reason. And now, it was time to focus solely on that.

“Full Moon.”

An exclusive social club reserved for the most elite nobility in the Kingdom of Karl.

Adel’s first impression upon entering was simple: “another world.”

She’d been to her fair share of secretive places while quietly gathering intelligence on the powerful House of Ballonech. But the elegance and sheer grandeur of Full Moon overwhelmed even her. The place stretched out into a forest and artificial lake behind the building—it was massive.

And yet… something about it felt off.

“Feels weird, doesn’t it?”

Mensha offered a sheepish comment, and Adel smiled faintly. By day, the upper crust pretended to be so refined—and by night, they behaved like this.

Dim chandeliers casting a gloomy light. Flickering wall sconces and table lamps, barely illuminating anything. Slow, sultry music playing in the background. Waitresses with heavy makeup carrying endless trays of alcohol.

And in every darkened corner, nobles tangled together in drunken embraces.

Mensha, reading Adel’s expression, cleared his throat awkwardly.

“It wasn’t always like this. I hear it’s the new trend coming over from the Halroch Empire.”

“This kind of decadence is trendy?”

Adel’s blunt remark made Mensha cough again, clearly caught off guard. She subtly scanned the club’s interior as she asked,

“So… if this is a Halroch influence, did it start when Duke Grey arrived?”

Mensha winced slightly.

“No, not exactly. Grey’s reputation makes him sound wild, but he’s not actually into this kind of scene. It’s more that when he was studying in Halroch, some of his friends—including Prince Harold—started bringing these ideas back.”

Mensha, well-connected in noble circles, was friendly with Grey—Karl’s most talked-about noble at the moment. So whenever his name came up, Mensha couldn’t help defending him.

For Adel, this connection was a stroke of luck. She didn’t understand why Mensha was friends with that man, but thanks to it, she’d gained an unexpected opportunity.

Grey, the beautiful, debauched nobleman.

Full name: Grey Loer Ballonech. Widely considered the most intriguing figure in the kingdom.

His reckless behavior flirted constantly with the line between scandal and spectacle. He was rumored to have wagered his entire fortune against the crown prince of Halroch in a bet. And his looks? Alluring to the point of madness—rumor had it he could seduce anyone, regardless of gender. A natural-born hedonist who conquered Halroch’s high society with ease.

And now, the reason Adel—who normally avoided asking for favors—had come to Full Moon with Mensha’s help.

Grey was from the very House of Ballonech that Adel had been secretly investigating. The youngest son of the current duke, born years after his older siblings. Technically, he had little to do with Hudson, the marquess Adel had targeted for revenge. After all, Grey had gone off to study abroad at a young age and had grown up among foreign royals and nobles.

People said he wasn’t involved in his family’s affairs and had no interest in anything beyond pleasure. Since returning to Karl, he had certainly lived up to that image.

So Adel had initially dismissed him as irrelevant.

But that changed suddenly a few days ago. Rumor had it that Grey was looking for a personal aide—someone to help him manage tasks assigned by the family.

Adel had no personal interest in Grey himself. But that position—his aide—was a different story.

If he was taking on family responsibilities, then she’d be in the perfect position to dig deep.

“Mensha, you made it!”

“Oh? And who’s this lovely lady?”

From the moment she entered Full Moon, Adel drew curious glances. The club was members-only, and newcomers were always a source of interest.

Adel tried to blend in, mostly for Mensha’s sake, but her natural bluntness made socializing difficult. The longer she stayed, the more exhausted she became.

To make matters worse, she heard that Grey wouldn’t be arriving until later that night.

Disappointed, she leaned toward Mensha and murmured,

“Hey, Mensha.”

“Yeah?”

“Am I keeping you from your friends?”

“What? No.”

“I mean, I’m fine. I’m a little tired, honestly.”

“Tired?”

Mensha blinked, confused—what had she done to be tired? Adel feigned fatigue and gently nudged him away.

“I’ll just rest over there for a bit. I only came to look around anyway, so don’t worry about me.”

Adel decided to conserve her energy until Grey arrived.

“…You sure?”

“Really. I’d feel worse if you ignored your friends because of me.”

“…Okay. But call me if you need anything.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Mensha left to rejoin his group. Once he was out of sight, Adel began to move quietly toward the club’s more private areas. There, she hoped to uncover some of the Ballonech family’s dirt.

But instead, all she found were… strange scenes. Members of noble houses in compromising situations—secret trysts and scandals she had neither hoped for nor wanted to witness.

At first, she was flustered and surprised. But after a while, it stopped fazing her. If anything, she just realized how naïve she had been.

And still, time passed.

“Miss Adel?”

A well-dressed waitress in formal attire approached her.

“Yes?”

“Lord Mensha is asking for you.”

“Where should I go?”

“To the central hall, please.”

“Thank you.”

As Adel followed the direction the waitress had indicated, she suddenly froze.

She had caught a glimpse—just for a second—of someone who had to be Grey.

She turned to look more closely and saw a balcony with several people lounging on velvet sofas. And in the center, sprawled out like he had not a care in the world, was the man she was looking for.

There was no other way to describe it—he was lounging. So casually that it had to be Grey. He was the very picture of every rumor that followed him.

Silver hair that shimmered like it had absorbed all the moonlight from the balcony. A body half-sunken into a luxurious velvet sofa. He looked like a disgraced archangel, cast out of heaven for being too light-hearted.

Adel stood there in the hallway, staring.

Then, someone tapped her on the shoulder.

“What are you doing, Adel?”

“Ah—Mensha.”

She quickly turned her eyes away.

“I heard you were looking for me.”

“Right. I realized I’d left my guest all alone too long.”

Adel stared at Mensha for a moment, trying to think: how do I get him to introduce me to Grey?

“Have you met Cornell yet?”

“Cornell?”

“Yeah. I know you want to transfer to the Department of Public Welfare. You said you wanted to meet him, right? That’s why you came here.”

“…No, Mensha.”

Sorry. It’s not Cornell I’m after—it’s Grey’s aide position.

As they walked toward the central hall, Adel snuck glances back toward the balcony. She couldn’t leave without at least trying to approach him.

“I’m seriously going to arrange a private introduction to Cornell for you.”

No, please. Grey. Not Cornell.

“But if you really do transfer to Welfare, I’ll be sad.”

“Um, Mensha…”

Adel grabbed his sleeve, trying to figure out how to say it—when fate intervened.

“Hey, Mensha!”

“Huh? Talian?”

From the group on the balcony—right near Grey—a young man waved enthusiastically at Mensha.