“I see. I’ve heard the rumors but didn’t think that old man really did have such filthy thoughts,” the man insulted, his expression distorted into a scowl.

Looking up, Max requested, “Just show your face in the banquet hall tomorrow for a while—that will be enough. After that, you should stay in your room until the night ends… and don’t even think about drinking.”

Smirking, the man replied, “I’ve never been drunk in my life. Don’t worry.”

Realizing what he meant, Max scolded, “Did you not hear what I just said, Avalta?”

Smiling awkwardly, the foreign king changed the subject. “By the way, I didn’t think you would be the kind of person to take care of your sister like this… How surprising.”

Max narrowed his eyes. “I’m not taking care of her. I’m just doing this because I don’t want the emperor to get what he wants.”

Chuckling, Avalta suggested, “How about taking this opportunity to get along with your sister?”

Max’s eyes turned cold as soon as the man finished speaking. “Stop with the nonsense. Our alliance is over if you make a mistake tomorrow.”

* * *

The day of the coronation ceremony finally dawned and the maids busily dressed their lady—the one who would receive all the attention today.

Beatrice couldn’t believe this day had reached her so suddenly. She felt nervous. She had not hoped this day would come, but it was also something she had been looking forward to. Today, she could finally meet the lady she had befriended two weeks ago.

With a smile, Beatrice began humming without realizing it. The maids who had been dressing her giggled in response, saying, “This is the first time I’ve seen Your Highness so excited!”

“Indeed! You’ve always been such a mature lady, so I didn’t think you would show your emotions like this!”

Beatrice cleared her throat at last. “I am human, too, you know.” Soon, the corners of her lips lowered. She wondered what her mother had been up to lately. She had not summoned Beatrice for the last several days, leaving her to spend her days in loneliness and disappointment.

“Your Royal Ladyship, His Highness the Crown Prince awaits,” a voice from outside the room brought Beatrice back to reality.

The maids made a great fuss. “I guess he is a handsome enough partner for Her Highness!”

“Who?” Beatrice asked with curiosity.

“We mean His Highness, Your Ladyship. Isn’t it a relief that he at least has an adequate appearance?” another maid whispered.

Crumpling her face, Beatrice remained silent. Once she heard from the maid that everything was ready, the princess observed her decorated self in the mirror.

‘This should be good enough… to stand side-by-side with Jubelian.’ Beatrice thought excitedly when a voice outside the room urged.

“Your Royal Ladyship, have you gone through all the preparations?”

‘It’s something I have to do anyway. It’d be better to do it now than later.’ Beatrice reluctantly began moving toward the door. She stepped out of the room to behold an unbelievable sight before her.

‘Maximilian, you madman!’

For her once-in-a-lifetime debutante ball, her stepbrother who would escort her was donned in his usual black armor.