The Spring Ball had officially started, and the streets of the empire were busy with the tumultuous chatter of the nobles.
Meanwhile, in his territory Stephen was ready to depart.
"My lord, I hope you have a safe journey ahead," Tristan said, joined by the other servants, sending Stephen off with worried expressions and well-wishes.
Stephen boarded the neatly designed, new carriage that he had specifically instructed the craftsmen to create. With everyone's good wishes, he set off. The journey between his territory and the empire would take at least three to five whole days.
To pass the time, Stephen read a few books he had purchased from the system for entertainment during his travels.
The day quickly turned to night, and Stephen, along with the coachman, rested in a small inn in a village. The next day, they continued their journey.
---
Five days passed, and Stephen finally arrived at the castle gates. The plaque was displayed, and the carriage swiftly entered. Stephen disembarked and checked into an inn for the night.
The night passed quickly, and Stephen prepared himself, putting on his new, custom-made tuxedo. The carriage dropped him off at the entrance, and Stephen took a moment to relax his tense muscles.
He entered the ball and immediately felt the intense gazes cast upon him. He took a glass of wine from a servant and quickly immersed himself in the noble atmosphere.
"Is that him?"
"He looks younger than I had thought."
"So, he's the new count?"
No one made an effort to lower their voices as they gossiped about Stephen. He drank his glass of wine by himself and found a seat in the corner.
Stephen glanced at the older men chatting in the center. 'The King's faction...'
It was widely known that five factions divided the nobles:
The King's Loyalists: Older noble families with close ties to the royal court, perhaps led by a prominent duchess or earl with conservative views. Nobles in this faction support the king's authority and the established hierarchy. Led by Duke Skinwrath.
The Isolationists: Nobles who prioritize their own territories and avoid entangling themselves in the kingdom's politics. They neither challenge the king's authority nor seek reforms, focusing instead on their own prosperity. Led by Viscount Buefort.
The King's Inner Circle: High-ranking nobles who are close advisors to the king and hold significant influence. Led by the chancellors.
The Underdogs: Lower-ranked or newly titled nobles aiming to elevate their status. They are pragmatic, looking to forge alliances that will help them climb the social ladder, and are led by various smaller officials.
The Reformists: Forward-thinking nobles, some younger, advocating for changes in governance and the economy. They see potential in new policies that could benefit both the nobility and common folk alike. Led by the first prince.
These five factions shaped the social structure among the nobles. The Genest count's territory aligned more closely with the Isolationist faction.
"Count Genest!"
A voice called out, interrupting Stephen's thoughts. He turned to see a man with brown hair. "Lord Galvet!" Stephen greeted.
Viscount Galvet, whose territory was the empire's main source of water, was an old friend of the former count. A man who prefers to isolate his territory, while growing his force.
Although he may seem as a kind-hearted man, he had the same agenda as the other nobles.
"My, it's been quite a while since we last spoke. If I recall, our last conversation was after the former count's death." Viscount Galvet sighed, but he quickly changed his expression and patted Stephen on the shoulder. "I recently tried the scented candles. They were amazing! The scent even helped me sleep peacefully."
"I'm glad to hear that, my lord," Stephen replied, his gaze shifting toward the young woman standing behind the Viscount. 'Ah. Of course.' Stephen sighed inwardly, it was clear why the Viscount initiated a conversation.
"Oh my, how rude of me!" Viscount Galvet chuckled. "This is my daughter, Heloise. She's recently debuted!"
Stephen gave his usual polite smile as he took the lady's hand and planted a soft kiss. "It's an honor to meet you, my lady."
"It's an honor to meet you as well, Count," Heloise replied with a smile.
"She's been eager to meet you, Lord Stephen! Ah, the dance is about to start. Why don't you take my daughter's hand for her first dance?" Viscount Galvet suggested.
Stephen smiled and accepted. Standing with Heloise on the dance floor, he knew it would be considered rude to reject the Viscount's eagerness to have him dance with his daughter.
Yet, Stephen understood the real reason. Although the Viscount seemed concerned for him, he was clearly eyeing the opportunities that the territory could provide.
It was clear as day, what many had wanted. Stephen wasn't the type to be fooled, by this schemes.
The dance quickly ended, and Stephen quietly slipped away onto the balcony.
The Spring Ball was held the day before the king's birthday, so Stephen was required to stay for two days. He sipped his liquor and gazed down at the rose garden below, where a pair of lovers were visible. 'How disgusting. Out of all places…'
He sighed and left the balcony, slipping back inside. What reason was there to stay at the party when everyone kept their distance, aside from a few viscounts and barons eager to marry off their daughters?
Thus Stephen, decided to leave the ball early.
"My lord, are you leaving?"
Stephen paused, turning to face the Marquess. "Well, I was thinking of leaving early, my lord."
"Nonsense! The night is still young, and the ball has only just begun!" Marquess Lafaille chuckled.
Reluctantly, Stephen returned to the ball with the Marquess.
"Your scented candles have created quite a buzz among the nobles," the Marquess remarked. "Now, I'm somewhat regretful that I only bought four." He chuckled.
Stephen sighed softly, taking another sip of his drink.
"Stephen, have you thought of marriage?" the Marquess asked directly.
Inwardly, Stephen sighed. Yet his expression remained the same. "I haven't given much thought to marriage yet, my lord, as I am still focused on managing the territory."
The Marquess hummed, sipping his drink. "I actually wanted you to meet my granddaughter." He looked at Stephen, leaving little room for an excuse.
"Then it would be an honor to meet her, my lord," Stephen replied, knowing there was little point in creating an enemy out of the Marquess.
"Excellent! I'll call for her." The Marquess instructed a servant, and soon, a woman with long, light blonde hair and blue eyes stood before them, bowing.
The word 'beautiful' hardly did her justice. She seemed like an angel, with a perfectly sculpted face and nose. If Stephen could compare her, she looked like an actress on TV.
"It is a pleasure to meet you, Lord Count," the young woman said, bowing.
"This is my granddaughter, Vanessa," Marquess Lafaille informed him.
Stephen recognized the name. Although he hadn't met many nobles, he knew of those making waves in noble society.
Vanessa Lafaille, born of the Marquess's third son, made her debut last year and had quickly gained fame for her grace and beauty.
But her story was complicated. She had once been engaged to the former heir, with their marriage scheduled to take place just a month after his unexpected death.
In high society, the superstition of an engagement ending with the fiancé's death was considered a curse, a bad omen.
As a result, Vanessa, despite her beauty, had become somewhat ill-fated in society's eyes. Few would risk courting her now.
It was clear what the Marquess intended: to marry his cursed granddaughter off to Stephen, a bastard-turned-count. Though Stephen's bloodline was lowborn, his title and territory made him a significant figure, even if he was a lowborn, the wealth and his territory could make up for it.
"She hasn't danced with anyone yet. Could you be her first dance, my lord?" the Marquess asked.
Stephen smiled and accepted the offer. As the two held hands and danced, Vanessa's smile held a hint of irony.
"As you know, my lord, I am a cursed, ill-fated woman," Vanessa said.
Stephen stayed silent. He didn't want to furthermore converse with the woman.
Vanessa chuckled. "I assume you understand what my grandfather is attempting. I mean no disrespect to you, my lord."
"So, you're quite sharp," Stephen replied, earning another soft chuckle from Vanessa.
"That's what everyone presumes about me, isn't it? With a face like mine, a doting father, and a devoted grandfather, who would think I could understand such matters?" Vanessa replied.
"Your grandfather is indeed quite keen," Stephen replied.
"Well, it's not as if anyone else would consider marrying me," Vanessa answered.
Vanessa could still be wed, but it would either be a lowly baron or viscount. The Marquess would never accept his prized granddaughter be wed to a lowly man.
If a human being was tasked to choose between, a yard filled with numerous apples, with some rotting, or a small yard, filled with only a few apples, many would choose the first.
Cause even if it had rotten parts, it's sheer amount could cover it up.