Hilsbeth discreetly scratched the itch on her left wrist when no one was looking. She had once fantasized about being in such a stunning hall, dressed in exquisite evening attire, where men and women conversed freely or intimately under the glow of bright tableware and candlelight, while waiters carried silver trays filled with desserts to her side. But now, as all of this unexpectedly became reality, she felt no comfort or satisfaction whatsoever.
There were two key reasons for this. First, she had to play a role that wasn't her own, needing to be extremely cautious in her words and actions. Second, her male companion was Phipin. Of course, these two reasons were interdependent. It was a celebration party for a Stormwind officer, and Koen believed it would be very embarrassing for Phipin to attend such an event without a female companion, so he let him choose from three noble young ladies. Phipin chose Hilsbeth, who was not on the list. "Otherwise, I won't go, and I won't accompany you to any other banquets in the future," he said to his father. After conceding to his son, because it was impossible for Hilsbeth to introduce her true background to the guests, Koen requested her to appear as a "distant relative," having her memorize a forged family tree and life experiences in advance, along with two hours of emergency etiquette education.
"I am twenty-one years old. I am the choir leader of a certain women's college. My hobby is reciting the long odes of a certain poet. My father manages a gold mine somewhere. I haven't seen my cousin Phipin in seven years, and I miss him very much." These sentences circulated in Hilsbeth's mind like a snake biting its own tail, causing her to constantly look around anxiously, fearing that someone might suddenly come up and ask her unprepared questions. Such incidents did not happen, but she herself made one or two unexpected irrelevant answers.
She glanced at Phipin beside her. When he turned his face to smile at her, she tried to smile back as naturally as possible. Whenever she took his arm, Hilsbeth was always surprised by the frailty of this person; he seemed like a skeleton propped up only by his clothing, about to collapse to the ground. She imagined that if Phipin were to kiss a woman, he might slide off her within the first three seconds like poorly hung curtains. Hilsbeth certainly knew that it wasn't Koen's unwillingness to feed his son. Perhaps he had some illness, she speculated. Guessing aside, she had no intention of seeking answers from anyone. Perhaps it was this aura of weakness and depression that always surrounded Phipin, making few people willing to talk to him, and even if conversations started, they usually turned into praise for his father within three sentences. For Hilsbeth, this was a good thing because the further away the topic was from her, the less likely she was to reveal anything.
"Hilsbeth," he said to her, "how are you feeling?"
"I'm very happy," she told herself in her mind, at least the food doesn't taste bad, albeit in smaller portions.
Panthonia was on the other side of the hall. Hilsbeth found it difficult to see him through the crowd. She had repeatedly told herself not to dwell on what happened that day. She remembered her grandfather once saying that he served a family surnamed Shawl, who had a very capable young master—just this information alone was not enough for Hilsbeth to form a sufficient imagination of Panthonia's childhood. Perhaps her grandfather's music box was given to him? He probably thought it was important, otherwise, he wouldn't remember the melody after so many years.
Now that man, whose gaze was often frightening, had once extended his hand for servants to dress him. He was accustomed to the scent of perfume sprinkled on his body from a young age. Listening to the melody of the music box alone, perhaps he unconsciously hummed along—
"What are you laughing at?" Phipin said.
"Ah." She turned her head to look at him. "Nothing. I'm just very happy."
Oops. She had just said that.
"That's good."
Phipin behaved as if he hadn't noticed Hilsbeth's distraction at all. She couldn't help but feel sorry for this young man. Perhaps he was even more embarrassed than her, but even if he was embarrassed, he was willing to try to enjoy it.
"We don't need to stay here," Phipin said, "let's go for a walk in the courtyard."
"Uh... okay."
He led her out of the mansion and to the fountain in the backyard. She was very careful with every step, afraid of ruining this dress. Was his dad planning to ask me for rent?
She could tell Phipin was trying to stay calm. He straightened his chest, widened his eyes more than usual, stared straight into the depths of the trees in the distance, then looked up at the sky, and then at her.
"I want to say you look really beautiful tonight."
"Thank you."
Phipin tried to look her in the eyes without wavering. Hilsbeth couldn't feel any confident charm in his eyes, only a sense of exhaustion from battling with himself.
"I want to kiss you," he said, "do you mind?"
"No." After blurting out the response from her mind too quickly, Hilsbeth forced herself to provide a more reasonable excuse. "Your father would be angry. He... hasn't allowed me to..."
"He won't know."
"But..."
"If you think it's too rude of me, then forget it. I respect your thoughts, of course."
Hilsbeth was in a dilemma because she suddenly realized that the makeup on her face and the dress on her body didn't belong to her, but to the person in front of her. Her eyes momentarily shifted away from Phipin's face to the mansion behind him, capturing its full appearance—like a palace. This wasn't where she belonged, even though she was still glad to have this experience. The survival principle of the Queen's District emerged in her mind: you can't expect others to give you anything unconditionally. She had always been constantly rejecting Phipin, but he must have his limits. Moreover, even if Phipin could tolerate it, what would his father think? Hilsbeth still felt no charm from the person in front of her, but if a kiss could prevent things from going downhill...
"No, I'm very willing."
He kissed her. After a moment, she turned her face to the side and then tried to face him with the most natural smile.
"Do you really hate me?" Phipin said.
In the hall, Panthonia saw Hilsbeth and Phipin leaving together, but he didn't have time to pay attention to where they were going. At today's gathering, Duke Koen introduced him to other members of the council, giving him the opportunity to explain his ideas about the independent intelligence agency and its various benefits. Of course, Koen didn't forget to praise Panthonia's achievements and character in front of others. This was a good progress for Panthonia, mostly due to Polonius's arrest boosting Koen's confidence in him. However, he hadn't told Koen about the intelligence Polonius mentioned regarding Ravenholt. The word "assassin" was too sensitive.
It was still unclear whether persuading other officials was going smoothly. Obviously, even if he explained in detail, it was not as appealing as a word from Duke Koen. Rather than words, the image he presented was more important, convincing others that the future leader of the intelligence agency was capable but obedient enough. He didn't need to dress completely as a gentle and polite gentleman, but he also couldn't show too much aggression.
In addition, his other job tonight was as the Chief of Police. After such conversations, he had to focus entirely on ensuring security. Dennisen was in charge of security outside the mansion and didn't know what Panthonia had done in the hall. Establishing the intelligence agency was still a partially undisclosed plan, and Panthonia temporarily didn't intend to reveal it to his colleagues in the security bureau. Anyway, this plan meant taking away part of the security bureau's work and jurisdiction.
"Panthonia." Koen walked towards him. "Did you see my son? And that woman."
"No, I didn't notice."
"They seem to be gone. Go find them for me."
"I have to stay here to supervise security, sir."
"Cut the nonsense. What could happen here? Now go find them for me."
Koen's request was understandable. If his son and Hilsbeth were doing something he didn't want to happen, then at least Panthonia should be the first to discover it to prevent further crises. Sending Hilsbeth to the church and weakening her attraction to Phipin by smoothing off her rough edges didn't work. It seemed to give Phipin more reason to invite her as a companion—from the beginning of this banquet, Koen's mood had not been good.
"I'll go right away, sir."
Panthonia turned and walked towards the hall door. Before he could leave, he heard the sound of someone collapsing not far to his left. A small group of guests quickly gathered around, but most of the other guests elsewhere didn't notice.
After pushing through the onlookers, Panthonia saw a middle-aged man lying on the ground, his limbs curled up and trembling, his eyes wide open, and foam tinged with green and yellow spilling from his mouth. His companion knelt beside him, leaning forward and reaching out but not daring to touch him.
"Get the emergency responders," Panthonia said to the guards nearby after briefly examining the fallen man.
"He was just talking, then suddenly felt unwell and collapsed..." the companion said.
"What did he eat?"
"Nothing at all," she said, "just a few sips of wine not long ago, and he hadn't finished it..."
Panthonia saw the wine glass lying near the man's waist. The remaining purplish liquid spilled out.
"Is there something wrong with the wine?" a bystander said, hastily setting down his own wine glass. His words stirred up the crowd; soon someone exclaimed, "Could the wine be poisoned?" and the confusion among this small group of people began to spread rapidly.
"Where did the wine come from?" Panthonia grabbed the arm of the fallen man's companion and asked. As she hesitantly began to answer, another person nearby collapsed.