"Oho. Do we finally get to meet the mystery man you've been going on about, Remington?"
"Don't call him Mystery Man. What are we, playing detective?"
"That's only because you've been so cagey about who this person is!"
Remington gave a wry smile at the ribbing from his long-time friends. However, he understood why they were giving him a hard time.
For the past three months, he'd been practically living at Training Ground #4, neglecting their usual hangouts and even turning down group outings and blind dates—activities he usually loved.
Naturally, the burning question among his friends… or rather, comrades of the Scaled Dragon Society, was simple. Who had captivated the Narcio junior clan head?
During all that time, not once did Remington mention Theo by name.
'They're not ready to look past their prejudice about young master Theo.'
Even if rumors of Theo's recent improvement were circulating, that was only noteworthy news to low-rank swordsmen.
For those already entrenched in the ruling class, like the Scaled Dragon Society, such gossip was insignificant.
'This gathering is his chance to shatter their preconceptions.'
Remington believed Theo was more than capable of settling in with these people. After all, Theo was the first person he had ever acknowledged defeat to.
But not only that, the Theo he had observed was different from others.
Perseverance, dedication, hunger, talent—he possessed it all.
'Not to mention, leadership and integrity. He had bigger things in store for him than merely being a bastard.'
Truth be told, Remington had initially approached Theo out of boredom. But now, he was completely captivated.
There was just one problem.
'I'm not sure if we're friends yet…'
Theo kept everyone, not just him, at arm's length.
This only fueled Remington's desire to invite Theo into the Scaled Dragon Society. He hoped that if he showed his true self, Theo would also open up to him.
'This is ridiculous. Some might mistake this as me having a crush on him.'
But that just proved how compelling Theo was.
"Go easy on Remmy, guys. We'll meet him soon. What's the rush?" the man who had been silently observing said, instantly shifting the atmosphere.
"Y-you're right…"
"Yeah. If Remington's singing his praises, he must be worthy of hanging with us."
"I wonder which clan he's from. It'd be ideal if he's from my clan."
"Yours? Wouldn't that mean his bloodline is a bit too crappy?"
"You bitch! How dare you insult my clan? I challenge you to a duel."
"Hahaha! I'm just kidding!"
"That was a crummy joke…"
"Anyway, I'm looking forward to it! Hahaha!"
The man grinned, pleased with the shift in mood, and winked at Remington.
Remington returned it with a strained smile.
The way the man commanded the room with his mere presence hinted at how afraid people were of a Ragnar.
Remington disliked the look in his eyes—the way he viewed everyone, including Remington and his friends, as inherently beneath him.
It was a strange mix of affection as a friend and irritation as a rival.
The Dark Leopard, Axion Ragnar.
As the legitimate son of the third wife, he and the 'Frost Sword' Ray Ragnar were the most talked-about prospects of this year's Awakening Ceremony.
He usually presented a playful, jovial facade, but underneath simmered pride and arrogance.
He was also the Scaled Dragon Society's de facto leader.
'Axion's the only one I'm worried about. However, there's no connection between him and Theo, so hopefully there aren't any problems…'
Remington downed his whiskey, dismissing the thought.
He didn't notice Axion was carefully watching him with an enigmatic smile.
* * *
Theo found himself in an unfamiliarly awkward position. It was the first time he'd felt this way since his regression.
"How about this outfit, Young Master?"
"No, sis. I think this frilly shirt will suit him better."
"What about a tailcoat?"
"It's nice, but wouldn't they think he's overdoing it?"
"Then let's change this part to this color…"
"How about this hat?"
"Oh my my! It's perfect, sis! It adds such a distinguished air."
"He has such a good frame, all clothes suit him perfectly…!"
Chitter chatter.
Chitty chat chat.
The news of Theo's first appearance at a social event had spread like wildfire among the maids of the Rose Palace.
"Young Master is making his high society debut!"
"And it's a grand party that he was invited to by Remington Narcio himself!"
"I heard all sorts of VIPs will be there!"
"We can't let our beloved Young Master go looking shabby!"
"Let's make him the most dazzling one there!"
"With his handsome face and slender figure, he'll look good in anything!"
The maids had abandoned their duties to find him the perfect outfit.
Theo, now a hapless dress-up doll, felt his head spinning.
'Where am I…? Who am I…?'
Weren't clothes just supposed to be comfortable?
That was his usual philosophy, but he had to concede to the firm pleas of the maids.
Having always been the clan outcast, he only knew of high society through hearsay. He knew nothing about their intricacies.
All he knew was that it involved fancily dressed people mingling, with secret dealings happening in the background.
So, he had no choice but to entrust his fate to the maids, the so-called experts in this area.
'Maybe I shouldn't have accepted that invitation…'
The only reason he accepted was to learn more about the blue light.
He suspected it was connected to the message.
'The light vanished as soon as I received the invitation, though.'
But the secret of the message had to be uncovered.
And so he resolved once again to attend, despite the inconvenience, for a closer look.
Slam!
"Where did you find these cheap, vulgar rags for my son?!"
The door burst open, and Cecilia strode in, followed by a retinue.
Neatly dressed tailors, servants carrying bolts of fabric, barbers holding scissors, makeup artists with their kits ready—the group was diverse. There were even porters carrying in a full-length mirror and a chair, grunting from the weight.
"You brought these thinking they would suit my son? You're all useless! How can you call yourselves his attendants with such dreadful taste… Tsk!" Cecilia examined the clothes, clicking her tongue.
The maids' heads drooped.
Theo considered intervening, but Cecilia's expression brightened as she turned to him.
"I heard the news, my son. You received an invitation from the Scaled Dragon Society, didn't you?"
"Yes, Mother. I have."
"Why didn't you come to your mother immediately…?!" Cecilia gasped, taking a deep breath.
She then continued frantically, "The Scaled Dragon Society is a gathering of Axion, the son of that cunning Aimil, and brilliant talents like Remington. Naturally, it attracts a lot of attention, even from the Council. Every aspect of your appearance, your manners, your etiquette—everything will be scrutinized."
Theo silently nodded. He understood the unspoken implication.
It was because he was the bastard child of a concubine.
That alone would be enough for many to mock him. In fact, he had experienced it countless times before in his past life.
"You've always been so composed, my son, that there is nothing to criticize regarding your etiquette. But attire and demeanor are different matters. Discernment is key, and that doesn't come overnight."
Cecilia smiled confidently, "Fortunately, this is something your mother can help with. Now, what are you all waiting for? Attend to my son!"
Clap!
Cecilia clapped her hands, and four tailors approached Theo with measuring tapes.
"Please excuse us."
From then on, everything moved quickly.
They took his measurements, meticulously recording them, and inquired about his preferences. Barbers seated him before the mirror, discussing suitable hairstyles while makeup artists debated which colors would match his skin tone best.
After a while, they huddled together, discussing things in jargon he couldn't understand.
But what was most surprising was how Cecilia was orchestrating everything.
She wasn't just imposing her opinions on them. She listened to the experts, offering insightful feedback.
Her expression was serious, full of vitality.
'Did Mother… always have this side to her?'
Theo, accustomed to her jealous, spiteful demeanor, was astonished.
'If I recall correctly, I did hear she was a famous actress when she caught the Clan Head's eyes. Did she learn all this back then?'
The Rose Palace maids, equally surprised, watched with wide eyes. They had never seen this side of her.
Clap!
"Now, begin as we discussed," Cecilia ordered.
The barbers started first, snipping away unkempt locks of hair.
Then, the makeup artists accented his facial features, which had looked flat due to his overly sun-tanned skin.
When he was finally dressed in the blasted outfit and shoes, Theo felt a sense of unfamiliarity upon seeing his own reflection.
However, the reaction from others was…
"Oh my! Oh my…!"
"That is the Young Master, right?"
"Whoooa!"
Cheers filled the room.
Some maids couldn't stop stealing glances, their cheeks pink.
His already striking features, considered among the best in Ragnar, were now even more captivating.
The clothes fit perfectly, accentuating his lean physique. They say that clothes maketh the man, and he indeed looked like a proper gentleman.
"What do you think? Do you like it?" Cecilia beamed, proud of her work.
"It's… uncomfortable."
"Comfort and style are rarely compatible. You'll have to endure. This is an awakening ceremony of sorts as well."
Cecilia stood beside him, tilting her head.
"My, have you grown taller, my dear son? Your shoulders seem broader, too. You're towering over your mother now."
Theo, unable to mention the message, mumbled, "It appears so."
"Perhaps it's puberty, but your features have also become sharper. You resemble the Clan Head in his youth…"
Theo caught a fleeting glimpse of a bittersweet smile on Cecilia's lips. However, it vanished quickly, replaced by her usual confident expression.
"Remember this, my son. You are the son of Cecilia. Be confident and dignified, wherever you are. Never be discouraged. If you stand tall and proud, the world won't dare harm you."
Even if her encouragement stemmed from a twisted love and possessiveness…
"Even if you make a mistake, worry not. Your mother will be your shield. I will protect you no matter what."
Theo felt a strange emotion he had never experienced from her before.
"..."
And he felt a slight tug in his chest.
***
"…Is that really you, young master Theo? You look like a new person."
"Even you're teasing me, Sir Remington?"
Theo sighed as he boarded Remington's carriage.
'I only said that because I thought he genuinely looked good.'
Remington looked perplexed at Theo's misunderstanding.
Theo looked so different that Remington almost didn't recognize him. He'd probably be the most handsome person at the gathering.
Rattle—
The carriage wheels began to turn. The venue was Camellia Palace, quite a distance from the Rose Palace.
Remington, seeing Theo discomforted by his clothes, said, "I hear this is your first social event, young master Theo."
Theo nodded silently.
"It might be awkward at first, but I'm sure you'll do fine. My friends are eager to meet you. They're good people, but…"
"Is there something you're concerned about?"
"Well, Axion… he can be a bit… no, very mischievous. But he means no harm, so…"
Remington's voice trailed off in his mind.
Axion. The name echoed in Theo's ears.
'Rendon aligned himself with Axion's faction after leaving the Rose Palace. Was that a coincidence, or…'
Theo had occasionally considered the possibility.
'Was there a long-planned conspiracy behind Mother's false accusation and my death? Was Rendon truly uninvolved in all that?'
His train of thought was abruptly interrupted.
"…Actually, it was Axion who provided the invitation for you. He said he wanted to meet you. So, please don't think badly of him."
Theo's eyes lit up. 'Is that so?'