AWLC 18

Chapter – 18

After the conversation ended, Jerold picked up two glasses of champagne from the silver tray carried by a server and casually extended one toward Asha.

From a distance, it would look as though he had asked a few questions to choose the right champagne, then naturally selected an appropriate drink for the lady beside him.

Asha accepted the glass offered to her and smiled faintly.

“Are you done talking?”

Jerold smiled as well.

“You could hear us?”

Asha took a small sip of champagne to moisten her lips.

“I couldn’t really hear. It just seemed like you were discussing work, so I waited. Shall we go upstairs now?”

Jerold drank his champagne to hide the corner of his lips that threatened to fall.

Most noble ladies wouldn’t even imagine that someone of imperial blood would be discussing work with a ballroom attendant…

Whether she was free of prejudice or simply free of suspicion, he couldn’t tell. But right now, something else interested him more.

Her relationship with Marquis Dalbert.

Jerold had seen the same investigative report as Alesto and knew there was supposedly no connection between them. Yet the way the Marquis had looked at her had been far too fervent for two people with no ties at all.

Following behind her as she led the way upstairs, Jerold finally asked, unable to resist:

“Do you know Marquis Cedric Dalbert?”

For a split second, Asha’s shoulders trembled.

It was extremely subtle, but Jerold felt an inexplicable sense of foreboding.

Asha glanced back at him and answered calmly.

“Is there anyone in the Empire these days who doesn’t know Marquis Cedric Dalbert? Of course I know of him. Didn’t he completely wipe out the pirates in the southern seas recently and receive the title ‘Knight of the Sun’?”

After reaching the top of the stairs, she paused to catch her breath.

What kind of body was this, that even a flight of stairs left her winded?

“Is that your answer?” Jerold pressed.

“Mm… what more should there be?”

Turning to face him, Asha took another sip of the champagne he had given her and continued in a roundabout tone, her eyes wide and her speech deliberately naïve.

“And… if I had some personal connection with the Marquis, wouldn’t you already know? I heard you conduct thorough investigations before allowing anyone into Blossom. Or was that just a rumor?”

On the surface, it sounded like she truly had no personal ties to the Marquis. But Jerold had never let unanswered doubts go.

“That’s not incorrect. However, according to our investigation, you were once considered as a potential match for him. Why did you leave that out?”

Asha tilted her head, looking genuinely surprised.

“You really investigated me?”

Jerold’s expression had already hardened.

“It was simply part of the standard procedure before admitting someone into Blossom. Don’t change the subject.”

Asha shrugged lightly, as though she had no hidden agenda.

“Mm, there was talk of a matchmaking meeting, but we never actually met. I met His Highness Alesto right before the date and entered the Imperial Palace instead. …Though I suppose you already knew that.”

“Did you exchange letters before meeting? There was no record at the post office, but you could have used personal maids. I’m asking to confirm.”

Now even Asha felt puzzled.

“No. Not at all. Not even once. Why are you being so persistent? Is there a reason?”

“…No.”

Jerold finally closed his mouth.

If he mentioned that Marquis Dalbert had been staring at her too intently, it might only spark unnecessary curiosity—or create trouble where none existed.

Wait. Had he just thought of Asha as his sister-in-law?

While Jerold was caught in that soft, unsettling thought, Asha silently added a few notes to her evaluation of him:

Effortlessly rude, extremely persistent, and utterly exhausting.

After wandering around the hall for a while, Asha decided to settle in the banquet area.

She chose a seat in a quiet corner, trying not to stand out, and focused her attention on the roasted meats—beef, chicken, pork.

She slipped a perfectly grilled piece of beef into her mouth first.

So good… It’s unbelievably good…

As she chewed slowly, savoring each bite, she thought that well-cooked meat tasted incredible with nothing more than a pinch of salt.

She made sure to chew as slowly as possible.

If she slowed down the pace at which the meat entered her stomach, she could better match it to the speed of digestion.

Naturally, she kept her back perfectly straight.

If her posture was poor and her stomach somehow got “creased,” she wouldn’t be able to neatly stack the meat from the very bottom of her belly upward.

Her mindset was simple: eat as much as possible, continuously.

Only after she was somewhat full did she finally look around.

People gathered in small groups, chatting merrily. The scene was almost like a painting.

The antique yet luxurious interior, the tall men in perfectly tailored suits, the slender beauties in voluminous gowns—

Each noble held a champagne flute or wine glass elegantly in hand, wearing gentle smiles.

At some point, she felt as though she had stepped into a famous painting she had once glimpsed.

It wasn’t a pleasant, wondrous feeling.

It was more like she had fallen somewhere she didn’t belong.

As if everyone else existed in vibrant color while she alone had been rendered in black and white.

A strange chill ran down her spine.

Then suddenly, she locked eyes with someone who felt just as monochrome as she did.

Of course, he wasn’t literally colorless—he simply had black hair and wore a white priest’s robe.

A thought flashed through Asha’s mind.

If this world had temples and saints… wouldn’t it also have a god?

And if a god existed, wouldn’t that god already know she came from another world?

She found herself staring at the priest as though nailed in place.

Though he stood far away and there was no way she could hear him, it felt as if a low whisper brushed against her ears.

“Nice to meet you.”

Without realizing it, she responded inwardly.

Do you know me?

The priest smiled as though he had heard her.

Was it normal to see someone’s expression so clearly from such a distance?

The strange moment ended when another figure entered her field of vision.

A man tapped lightly on the table beside her.

“May I sit?”

She stared blankly up at Alesto for a moment before quickly composing herself.

“Oh… yes, of course. But I heard you wouldn’t be able to attend tonight…”

“The meeting ended sooner than expected.”

He looked at her curiously.

“Were you watching something interesting?”

“Oh, no. There’s just so much fascinating stuff.”

She glanced toward where the priest had been.

Where did he go?

Unfortunately, he had vanished.

As though he had never been there.

Or… had he even been human?

The moment she realized he was gone, it felt as though a light had been switched on.

The black-and-white dissonance within the colorful world faded.

For a fleeting instant, she felt as though she had glimpsed the other side of reality—and felt oddly disappointed that the mysterious moment had ended.

Of course, she showed none of it on her face.

Looking at the Crown Prince, she joked lightly.

“Your Highness, would you like to try this? The roasted chicken is really, really delicious.”

Alesto, caught off guard by her frank invitation, stared at her for a moment before letting out a soft laugh.

They had only known each other a few days, yet this was already the third time she had gone on about meat.

But for someone who talked so much about food… wasn’t she rather small?

Without realizing it, he found himself watching her cheeks puff slightly as she chewed, looking utterly happy.

He refilled her half-empty glass with water himself.

“Is it that good?”

“Yes! I’ll give you one of mine!”

He had no particular intention of trying it, but before he could respond, Asha had already speared a large piece of meat with her fork and held it out to him.

He hesitated.

Not only had he never shared a fork with someone before—

He had never even imagined doing so.