In the social hall, where there was nothing for Zion to gain, it was all a fleeting and predictable scene.

But Evie really hustled around as if this place was a river where gold came out.

Going around, smiling prettily, listening with twinkling eyes, chattering earnestly.

Then, when a gap appeared, looking around and pondering something else.

At a glance, she seemed like a maiden excited about a festival, but to Zion, who knew what Evie’s mind was like, she looked like a very busy squirrel.

So watching her was not tiresome at all.

Only, Evie, who used to play with Zion in Bys, seemed closer to a leisurely and playful cat, and her appearance with raised antennae felt somewhat unfamiliar.

It was then that Zion was watching Evie, lost in various thoughts.

“Oh, Count. I see you here.”

A playful voice came from behind.

Then, light footsteps approached, but Zion did not bother to turn around.

He neither allowed idle talk, nor had he failed to notice that the owner of that bold voice was Duke Montra.

“I didn’t hear that you were coming to the Orchid Festival. If I had known you were here, I would have come earlier.”

Though ignored, Duke Montra continued to speak amiably. Then, he followed Zion’s gaze and turned his head.

“But what are you looking at so intently…?”

As Duke Montra’s eyes naturally turned towards Evie, Moren, who had been behind Zion, blocked his view, leaning back.

Duke Montra was surprised to suddenly see Moren, but soon spoke with a sly smile.

“It’s nice to see you often these days, Lady Isla.”

“Your Grace, His Highness is admiring the flowers.”

“If His Highness admires other flowers while Lady Isla’s flower is next to him, you must be very upset.”

Duke Montra babbled like a fox.

So Moren thought the same trash as always and smiled back.

Moren was the deputy commander of the guards, also known as Count Arko, and also Lady Isla.

All three were proud names, but his teeth were set on edge by the maliciousness of that Duke, who insisted on calling her Lady Isla while she was in her guard uniform, attending to the commanderinchief.

“No, His Highness doesn’t have the bad habit of treating people like flowers.”

“That’s good to know. I thought I might need permission, but His Highness is really looking at the orchids.”

Though Moren expressed her displeasure strongly, Duke Montra responded with a cheerful face.

Then, before Moren even understood what he was saying, he took a stride forward, and Moren belatedly realized her mistake.

.

.

.

“Eviee!”

It was a cordial voice, like calling a puppy.

Naturally, it was an inappropriate voice for calling a lady.

Evie turned around with a foreboding feeling, and suddenly a man’s broad shoulders covered her face.

“Eek!”

A certain man suddenly hugged Evie, and her face buried in his chest, Evie pushed his torso away, gagging at the strong scent of perfume.

The man then stepped back half a step, bursting into laughter.

“It’s been a while, I missed you.”
The man was still looking down at Evie from a close distance.

So Evie looked at the man and muttered to herself.

‘Is he crazy…….’

Suddenly embraced, Evie felt extremely disgusted.

But she never let that feeling show above her neck.

“Hello, Count Cassel Montra.”

Because this man was none other than Count Cassel Montra, one of the great nobles.

Cassel Montra was a frivolous man at first glance.

The man, who was exactly ten years older than Evie, had no place from head to toe that was not luxurious.

His hair, which looked silver in bright places and ashcolored in dark places, was always carefully curled at the ends, and his mixed face was always perfectly pale.

He preferred to wear a blazer coat that fit his body to show off his sleek style, and at the same time, he liked flashy things, so he embroidered gold and silver threads on the coat to enjoy their shine.

But he never wore the same coat more than twice.

His rings, perfume, shoes, belt, cuffs, and cravat decorations were the same.

Everything he wore boasted an astonishing price, but inevitably fell asleep in the dressing room after being shown once.

Cassel Montra was the most sophisticated and glamorous person in Tienda, and, fittingly, the scandals never ceased, and unfortunately, most of those rumors were true.

So he was a figure that Evie had been diligently guarding against.

“Have you been well?”

Cassel asked more slowly and affectionately than usual.

“No, every day has been like a bed of thorns.”

Of course, Evie had no choice but to answer honestly. Fortunately, Cassel laughed at her words as a joke.

“Yes, that’s right. It must have been hard. Because of some Count.”

‘What’s wrong with this person today?’

Cassel grinned mischievously and glanced secretly at where Zion was sitting, so Evie was secretly taken aback.

Cassel Montra is a clearcut human being who doesn’t know moderation.

So when Zion opposed Evie’s selection as a saint, he was the first to let go and watch.

But today, he suddenly changed his attitude and approached Evie, as Zion was glaring over there as if to show off.

Is he trying to protect this poor commoner girl from the terrifying Count?

But there was no chance that this guy had such a mindset, and Evie, wondering what it was, suddenly shuddered her shoulder.

Because Cassel had put his nose to Evie’s neck and smelled her.

“It smells like the lower continent.”

Although he didn’t touch her, Cassel muttered from a distance where he could feel the body heat and breath brushing against her.

“The smell has settled just because you went for a while? I don’t like this smell.”

At Cassel’s complaint coming right from behind, Evie imagined.

Imagining slapping his face with the back of her hand, stepping on his instep with her shoe heel, slapping his cheek and scolding him for being crazy.

She liked all of them, but Evie chose none.

Because it was a natural principle that as a commonerborn candidate for a saint, she had to bow politely to a great noble who directly participated in the selection of the saint.

So when Evie obediently endured, Cassel chuckled low.

It was when his breath made Evie sick again.

Suddenly, a strong hand intervened, grabbing Cassel’s shoulder and tearing him away from Evie.