Following Monique’s announcement of finding ‘Lowell Hessen,’ the ballroom was abuzz.

“Lowell Hessen has been found?”

“The ribbon bears the Hessen family crest. If this is genuine…”

“What about Lady Annet, the current fiancée?”

The once tranquil ballroom erupted into chaos with varied chatter, like a chicken coop raided by a fox. Voices of excitement echoed everywhere, but Peter was deaf to them all. His mind halted, focused solely on the object in his hand.

“How could this be…”

How could this ribbon, meant to burn with the Hessen mansion, be here? No matter how much he scrutinized, doubting it to be a fake, the ribbon was unmistakably Lowell’s.

It was made from a small supply of high-quality satin, exclusive to the royal family.

Peter had only engraved the initials ‘L.H.’ on its tip, but he couldn’t mistake the fabric.

‘The embroidery’s imperfections match.’

The minor flaw from his inexperience, the appearance he examined repeatedly before gifting it to Lowell, all matched. It was improbable for such a trivial item to be replicated. It was genuine.

‘If Lowell had been in the burning mansion that day, this would have burnt too.’

Yet the ribbon bore no signs of fire damage. Some parts looked slightly faded with time, but there were no burns. The implication was clear.

Lowell might have survived that day. Perhaps she was still alive somewhere.

As his thoughts reached this point, Peter’s mind, which had been still, flickered to life.

‘Annet Martinek.’

What was the first thing she did upon entering the palace?

“Do you want to find Lowell, Your Majesty?”

Annet had spread the rumor that Lowell might still be alive. It was a mere speculation, but enough to ripple the calm lake.

At first, it could have been dismissed as a ploy to amplify her presence, but with the current development, Peter had his answer. He almost laughed at the absurdity.

‘It was me.’

What Annet Martinek was aiming for.

It was none other than himself.

As Monique’s triumphant voice rose, Peter’s mocking laughter swelled. Her reaction confirmed his suspicion.

‘She’s certain of it.’

The reaction was more gratifying than imagined. Even while preparing for this moment, Monique had feared Peter might not recognize the item or dismiss it as fake.

But his reaction said it all. It was a more definite answer than any words could provide. Monique smiled contentedly.

“If I may, I’ll bring her to the palace…”

At that moment,

“That may well be Lowell Hessen’s belonging.”

Interrupting Monique, a voice chimed in. The woman with long black hair and a cream-colored dress – Annet – was slowly approaching her through the crowd.

If there was a face Monique least wanted to see at that moment, it was Annet’s.

Had she realized that the item rightfully belonged to her?

A look of caution crossed Monique’s face.

“…Lady Annet? What is this impertinence?”

“I need to clarify something, since no one seems to be addressing it.”
Annet calmly smiled and pointed to the ribbon in Peter’s hand.

“I understand that this is Lowell Hessen’s belonging. But does it prove that Lowell Hessen is alive?”

“Lady Annet seems unaware that all of Hessen’s belongings burned. Naturally, this item should have too, unless Lowell Hessen had escaped alive.”

“But she could have died afterward, couldn’t she?”

Annet tilted her head, genuinely puzzled.

“I wish for her to be alive for His Majesty’s sake, but I’m questioning the fuss over a mere object. If it turns out she’s dead after all this…”

It would be quite troublesome for Her Majesty the Dowager.

Annet’s deliberately delayed response furrowed Monique’s brow. She couldn’t immediately counter Annet’s words. Trying to maintain composure, Monique bit her lip, hiding behind her fan.

‘Why is she acting like this today?’

Monique, too, didn’t want to speculate about Lowell’s survival based on a mere ribbon.

Isn’t it natural for everyone to seek the safest path?

Yet the circumstances wouldn’t leave Monique be. Had Peter and Annet not entered the ball together, she wouldn’t have acted so desperately.

Moreover, Annet’s conversations at the ball kept gnawing at Monique.

“Her Majesty the Dowager is so kind to me. All I do is keep her company, but she seems to find my stories quite interesting.”

“Indeed, Her Majesty has been confined to the palace for so long. She must be lonely.”

“Maybe we should send her somewhere with better air? For Her Majesty’s sake, of course.”

“Oh, that’s a good idea. I might suggest it to His Majesty.”

While other ladies praised Monique and Annet’s apparent good relations, Monique knew their underlying intent.

‘Dare they treat me like an old woman in the back room?!’

What? Send her to a place with better air because she might be lonely?

Even that suggestion irritated her, understanding it as, ‘Better rest comfortably somewhere nice instead of appearing in the social world.’ And the fact that Annet initiated this talk…

‘She wouldn’t have known, would she?’

Monique briefly doubted, then shook her head, recalling Annet’s usual naive demeanor.

Impossible. On the surface, Annet never spoke ill of Monique. She likely didn’t grasp the other ladies’ hidden meanings.

But regardless of the truth, feeling aggrieved was natural.

‘I planned to draw attention at this ball.’

Her envisioned new life was far from this humiliation. She dreamt of a life admired and revered, not scorned by mere countesses and baronesses as an old woman in the background!

Monique grew increasingly anxious as things didn’t go her way. Having taken a long break from social activities, this ball was almost like a second debut for her. If she failed to capture attention now, continuing her social life would be difficult.

That’s why, in her unease, she presented Lowell’s ribbon to Peter.

‘I was going to fabricate a fake and bring her later anyway.’

Just a matter of matching the story, right?

Above all, she held the most convincing evidence!
Believing there wouldn’t be any issues, Monique had impulsively proceeded, but when Annet unexpectedly challenged her, Monique found herself cornered. Of course, Annet hadn’t completely backed her into a corner; a simple acknowledgment and retreat would have sufficed.

But…

‘I can’t back down now.’

Monique’s pride urged her not to stop.

If she nodded to Annet’s words now, the attention she had gathered would dissipate, becoming mere fodder for socialites. She hadn’t risked everything just for this to happen.

“Of course, Lady Annet is right.”

Her familiarity with the social circles and the fact made her more arrogant, daring enough to lie even in front of the Emperor.

“But there was a woman who possessed this item. That’s why I can say this.”

“Really? Did she claim it was her own?”

“Yes, she said it was a gift from her father.”

“Aha, I see…”

Annet calmly replied, suppressing the laughter threatening to escape.

‘When there’s nothing to start with, lies don’t come easy.’

You can’t make bread without flour, after all.

But once given the flour of truth, it can be inflated as much as needed.

“But something seems off.”

“What do you find strange?”

“To my knowledge, that’s a gift His Majesty gave to Lowell Hessen.”

Well, if torn open, it would be empty inside.

At Annet’s words, Monique’s expression momentarily hardened.

“What did you say?”

The right reaction for her would have been outright denial, not questioning.

She should have dismissed the claim, stating it was nonsense.

However, Monique knew this item was originally meant for Annet, and her hastily crafted lie wasn’t meticulous enough.

In that gap, she missed her chance to deny it.

“It’s strange. Her Majesty the Dowager wouldn’t lie about such a trifle, so it seems that woman is lying. Didn’t you verify it properly?”

“No, no! I, this is…”

“Enough.”

As Monique frantically searched for an excuse, a chilling voice emerged from the silent Peter.

“Everyone shut up. Unless you want to die.”