His Majesty the King intends to block Lady Kasallin from entering the ballroom.
Why is he going to such lengths?
It couldn’t simply be explained by his dislike of her encountering Emperor Parnes.
Lost in complex thoughts, she wandered for a while along a path blooming with lavender, still damp from last night’s rain.
From the opposite direction, a large shadow approached, and it was Parnes, accompanied by his aides and attendants, walking toward her.
Judging by his hurried steps, he seemed to be rushing to the palace to prepare for the ball.
Kasallin quietly stepped to one side of the path to avoid inconveniencing him as he passed.
She thought he would pass by without a glance, but after a few steps, he slowed his pace and turned his head toward Kasallin.
“Why are you alone in a place like this?”
“…I was just taking a breath of fresh air. It’s nothing important.”
“Who goes for a walk with such a gloomy face?”
Surprised, Kasallin gently touched her face.
She thought she had responded with her usual composed expression, so how did he always seem to see right through her?
“It’s just a bit of worry. Please don’t mind me and go on your way.”
“They say delusions are free, but you’re taking it too far. It’s not that I care—it’s that it bothers me.”
“Pardon?”
“How could I not feel uneasy when some young lady stands in my path with a face that looks like it’s about to cry? Take responsibility.”
“Responsibility? How…”
Parnes gazed at her as she blinked in confusion.
A frail voice, unsteady eyes, and a slender wrist that seemed like it would snap with a single firm grip.
The girl who always walked with poise and confidence—why were her shoulders so hunched today?
Unconsciously scrutinizing Kasallin, Parnes crossed his arms slowly, unaware of his own thoughts.
“They say young ladies need a lot of preparation just to go out. The ball is imminent, so why are you still dressed in a maid’s outfit?”
“I have personal circumstances that make attending the ball difficult.”
Parnes remained silent for a moment, looking down at Kasallin, who was clearly different from her usual self, before abruptly starting to walk and saying, “Follow me.”
How could she dare refuse when the Emperor himself ordered her to follow?
.
.
.
The place they arrived at was a dress room.
Parnes gave some instructions to an attendant following him, who then whispered something to the maids while pointing at Kasallin.
The maids nodded in agreement, glancing at Kasallin with curious eyes.
“Lady Kasallin, would you come this way? We’ll assist you.”
The maids, who moments ago had been holding men’s uniforms, now brought women’s shoes, perfumes, and jewelry boxes, bowing deeply to Kasallin.
As if she were some highly esteemed noble.
Kasallin, unable to comprehend the situation, looked up at Parnes with puzzled eyes.
“Don’t just stand there with wide eyes—follow the maids. They’ll prepare everything you need.”
“Why are you doing this for me…”
“I don’t know what happened to you today, but know this.”
He turned his head as if he hadn’t heard her question and spoke curtly, almost scolding.
“If you show up in front of me with that expression again, I won’t let it slide.”
A finely woven pearl necklace wrapped around her slender neck. The deep blue sapphires adorning the dress’s shoulder line made Kasallin’s skin glow with an ethereal hue.
Truly, Parnes must have the ability to read people’s hearts.
Looking awkwardly at her reflection in the carriage window, Kasallin thought she should hurry to thank him and carefully ascended the ballroom stairs.
In the third palace, grandly decorated as a single vast ballroom, dazzling lights and lively dance music intertwined.
She took out a prepared invitation and showed it to the gatekeeper, attempting to pass through naturally, when suddenly guards blocked her way.
Trying to hide her confusion with composure, Kasallin politely asked,
“Is there a problem?”
“I’m sorry, but a lady cannot enter without a guardian or escort.”
“I am a maid of Her Majesty Queen Rose. That should suffice.”
“No. She is not our escort.”
A familiar voice cut through the humid night air, resonating dully.
Turning her head, she saw Shallen escorting Rose, adorned in a bright yellow dress, ascending the stairs.
For a moment, Shallen fixed his gaze on Kasallin as if time had stopped, his eyes questioning how this could have happened.
He had surely taken every measure to prevent her from setting foot in the social scene, so where had that dress come from?
It seemed this was what Loren Logia had hinted at.
“You’re being utterly childish to the end. Why are you doing this to me?”
“Are you here alone?”
Shallen ignored her question as if crushing it underfoot.
It wasn’t genuine curiosity but rather a probing tone.
“As you can see.”
“For a lady to come at this late hour without a gentleman’s escort.”
“Regrettably, it seems there’s no gentleman in this country to escort me.”
Shallen scanned the pitch-black surroundings with a suspicious gaze.
Realizing Kasallin had truly come alone, he reverted to his characteristic mocking expression.
“Well… of course.”
“Of course? What does that mean?”
“Just talking to myself. Don’t mind it.”
At that moment, a guard anxiously held up a pocket watch and said, “We must close the ballroom doors soon.”
“Kasallin, your effort is commendable, but give up for today and return to your quarters. Come, Your Majesty, let’s go in.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
Shallen pointedly wrapped his arm around Rose’s shoulders and walked past Kasallin with ease.
Rose’s giggling voice and Shallen’s footsteps faded into the distance.
The guard, looking pityingly at Kasallin left alone, closed the ballroom doors.
It was then.
“What kind of flexibility is it to turn away a lady just for lacking an escort?”
A man with an unmistakable presence, even in the darkness, slowly approached from the far end of the corridor.
At the same time, Shallen’s steps, as he was about to enter the ballroom, halted as if caught in an invisible snare.
Parnes gestured with his chin toward the guard.
“What are you standing there for, dumbfounded?”
“Yes, yes?”
Parnes gently took Kasallin’s hand, as if handling fragile glass, and lightly placed it on his arm.
Then he spoke to the soldiers.
“This is the lady I will escort tonight. Is further explanation needed?”
The sweet court music played by the orchestra softly filled the grand hall, and guests gathered in small groups, fueling the fervor of socializing.
Young ladies around twenty, just entering the marriage market.
Seasoned noblewomen eyeing suitable sons-in-law with hawk-like gazes, and gentlemen dripping with insincere flattery to curry favor with the royal family.
Amidst the gathered royalty and nobility renowned across the Western Continent,
“His Majesty Emperor Parnes and Lady Kasallin Robepon have arrived!”
Why was a woman’s name announced alongside the Emperor’s? The guests filling the grand hall turned to the entrance in shock.
Especially the young ladies, who had been laughing and waiting for the Emperor, were dumbfounded, unable to believe it.
And rightly so, for Kasallin was walking into the ballroom escorted by none other than Parnes.
‘Who could have imagined things would unfold like this?’
Everyone stared at Kasallin with expressions of shock and confusion.
Despite being of marriageable age, the Emperor, who avoided women to the point that even monks would be impressed, was now appearing side by side with a lady.
Meanwhile, Shallen, still rooted to the spot at the ballroom entrance, followed the backs of Kasallin and Parnes as they entered together with disbelieving eyes.
He couldn’t fathom why an emperor of a great nation would personally escort a mere maid.
But what disturbed him even more was Kasallin’s hand naturally resting on Parnes’s arm.
The subtle distance between them, close yet not quite touching, as if separated by a single thread, made Shallen’s unease grow.
Meanwhile, Parnes led Kasallin to the center of the hall, bowing with flawless gentlemanly decorum.
Then, with utmost courtesy, he requested,
“Tonight, will you grant me the honor of dancing with you?”
In a ballroom filled with countless beautiful ladies vying for the Emperor’s attention, likened to a garden of flowers,
When Parnes chose Kasallin for his first dance, bypassing all others,
The onlookers were convinced this would be the highlight of the social season.
“My goodness, His Majesty requested a dance first.”
“I can’t believe it.”
Curious and skeptical gazes converged on Kasallin.
She hesitated briefly, then gently placed her trembling hand on his palm, signaling her consent.
At that moment, what Shallen witnessed was a strange emotion flickering across Kasallin’s face.
Flustered and uneasy, yet not entirely displeased, her cautious grasp of Parnes’s hand was enough to shock Shallen.
‘What is that expression? She’s never shown me a face like that, not even once.’
Shallen trembled with humiliation and shame, forced to watch helplessly as Kasallin turned her back on him without a hint of regret.
Led by Parnes’s hand to the center of the ballroom, Kasallin doubted if she was even standing properly.
The dancers on the floor made way with exaggerated excitement.
She keenly felt the piercing gazes—curiosity, envy, jealousy, and admiration—like arrows sinking into her skin.
“Pardon me.”
Parnes, with a formality that was merely perfunctory, drew closer to Kasallin.
The court orchestra, which had been playing a lively dance tune, stopped and began a more classical, romantic piece.
‘How does one dance again?’
Her mind, tangled with thoughts of Shallen moments ago, went blank as a sheet of paper.
Perhaps it was the intoxicating scent of his fragrance wafting so close to her.
Kasallin, who had frequented social parties since childhood, faltered in her panic. Parnes gently patted her back, as if soothing a startled child.
“It’s alright. Just lean on me.”
As he spoke, the burdensome gazes and noisy chatter around them seemed to vanish like magic.
Kasallin followed his gentle movements.
No words were exchanged.
Only their intertwined hands burned as if scorched by fire.
Male lead reborn without memories — but he still falls for her.
The person he finds displeasing in this life turns out to be his cherished wife-master in previous life…
Xie Zhi and Fang Xianxing who had known each other for less than three days through a blind date sat in the same car in front of the civil affairs bureau. They had a disagreement and failed to get married.
Xie Zhi immediately took out his phone, slid through his contacts, and randomly selected the next marriage candidate.
The woman snatched his phone and hung up. Looking at his phone wallpaper, she awkwardly changed the subject: “An ancient painting, eh? It looks pretty good, it’s just that the person in the painting looks a bit like me.”
When he heard this, he sarcastically mocked her for being so delusional, completely unaware that, the person in front of him was the reincarnation of Wen Ru, the famous prime minister of Yuan Shun whom he most admired…
The female CEO who doesn’t want to get married with a divorce agreement in hand × The male archaeological researcher who will only get married if he’s sure he can get divorced
