Chapter 13:Butterflies fluttering in the air

Taking Empress Frandor’s warning seriously, Isabelle left the palace and returned to the Oracle Hall.

Early next morning, she transformed into Celis and set off for Marquess Vanessa’s domain.

Along the way, she gathered rumors about the marquess. The results unsettled her.

Tyrannical, cruel, capricious…

A textbook despot.

But she was here. No matter how brutal Vanessa was, Celis had to meet her.

…

Entering the marquess’s mansion, Celis met Vanessa.

Contrary to the brutal image, Vanessa had soft red hair. She looked more like a pampered noble lady than a territorial tyrant.

Perhaps knowing Celis was an Oracle Hall saintess, Vanessa’s manner was gentle.

“Borrow the Golden Dungeon?”

“Yes.”

After Celis stated her purpose, Vanessa fell silent long. Then, as if recalling something, she looked up with a smile.

“The Golden Dungeon is named for the gold veins inside, besides monsters. Saintess, you know how valuable those are?”

“I’ll compensate for any losses from using it.”

“Compensate? I don’t need money.”

Celis paused, then understood.

“Speak plainly.”

“Tomorrow night, there’s a noble soirée at Talmac Manor in the empire. Use my identity. Attend in my place.”

Lounging on the sofa, Vanessa sipped her tea with a smile. Celis’s brows furrowed.

Attend as Vanessa?

Not simple.

“…Is that wise? Haven’t those nobles seen you? Impersonating you—I’d be exposed easily.”

“Saintess, you know I’m from the Greiro family?”

Mentioning family, Vanessa looked troubled.

“No secret. The soirée is billed as noble, but it’s really a marriage alliance event. Attendees are heirs from great families.”

“This time’s focus—an honorary duke from another family. My clan wants me to become his wife.”

“I hate being a marriage pawn. So I’m skipping. But I can’t openly defy family orders. That’s why I want you to go.”

Great families worked thus. Vanessa led the Greiro, but elders truly ruled.

“Why me?”

Vanessa didn’t answer immediately. Another sip, then a smile.

“Because you’re one of the Oracle Hall saintesses.”

She stressed “one.”

Celis understood instantly.

Imperial power struggles abounded. Vanessa couldn’t stay out. Choosing her tied them together.

An Oracle saintess attending a marriage event as the marquess—strangers or not, outsiders would assume close ties.

Anyone targeting Vanessa would now weigh the Oracle Hall.

Seeing Celis silent, Vanessa thought she feared exposure. She reassured.

“Don’t worry. Most attendees aren’t local Aust nobles. They’ve never seen me. You won’t be found out. Return, and the dungeon is yours.”

“Fine.”

Celis had zero interest in noble power games.

Vanessa’s schemes didn’t concern her. Her sole focus: rapid growth for the Rose Knights.

Agreeing, Celis left under Vanessa’s warm send-off. She boarded a carriage to the city hosting Talmac Manor.

The soirée was tomorrow night. Arriving, she checked into an inn and slept soundly.

Next morning, rare for her, she slept in.

Then, with effort, she rose and dressed meticulously.

A noble soirée demanded it. Even disguised as the marquess, as a saintess she must maintain image.

If investigated, the marquess identity would crack. She refused to lack a saintess’s grace and sanctity when exposed.

Silver teardrop earrings. Fitted white dress with gold trim. Finally, a white veil over her face.

She left the inn, strolling the town.

This daytime was rare relaxation. She’d enjoy it.

…

Town marketplace.

Two tall steeds walked the street center, one behind the other.

Front: a woman in noble attire. Hair pinned up, knight sword at waist. Valiant—like a lady general.

Rear: a glum-faced maid.

Watching the bustling market, the maid finally sidled up. Voice low.

“Miss, you truly skip tonight’s soirée? You’re the star!”

The lady snorted.

“Star? Still don’t see? The real stars are the families behind us. I fought for honorary duke title—they see me only as marriage bait.”

“But miss, attendees are great family heirs. Who else matches you without alliance?”

“You idealize it. Nobles match status, yes. But a person’s worth isn’t status—it’s character.”

Recalling something, disgust crossed her face.

“Like that Marquess Vanessa. Rumors: arrogant, tyrannical. Marry someone like that? Heh. Ruins family ties—what else?”

Maid, distressed.

“Then miss, how will you find a partner?”

“Through love.”

“Love? Like romance novels—one glance? Miss, you’re grown.”

“One glance is just lust. The love I mean—your rigid mind won’t grasp.”

Saying this, her gaze drifted to the crowd. It landed on a figure—pure, beautiful, like a white butterfly dancing. She stared, entranced.

“Yes, I don’t understand. But if lowborn, master won’t approve.”

“Mmm, true. If master status, then lowborn family approve my…”

“Huh? Miss, what?”

Lips twitching, the maid—ignored long—followed her lady’s gaze.

Her thoughts had long flown to that dancing butterfly.