Before Ghislain knew it, Rozalin stood beside him, smiling quietly.
"Hehe, Baron, you're very popular."
Ghislain shook his head with a tired expression.
"This is not the kind of popularity I want. The stares are so intense, I feel like I'm getting burned."
"They've just confirmed my recovery today, and they heard that my father declared his guardianship of you. No one's going to sit still after that. They're probably all restraining themselves right now."
"That's why I said the banquet wasn't necessary. I'll probably get even more famous now."
Seeing Ghislain grumble, Rozalin chuckled softly.
Opportunities like this banquet, where one could build a wide network regardless of faction or hierarchy, were rare.
But to see someone genuinely find such a precious occasion bothersome—he was indeed a fascinating person.
"Still, you should greet the people who came to see you."
"Yes, I suppose I should."
Ghislain let out a sigh filled with dissatisfaction.
Like it or not, he was the star of this banquet.
Now that he had formally joined hands with the royalist faction, he needed to greet those who were now in the same boat as him.
Fortunately, representatives of the royalist faction were all gathered here, so he didn't have to visit them one by one...
But deciding who to greet first was still a problem.
'There are three main factions.'
Even within the royalist faction, there were subdivisions.
They had united against the ducal families, but their interests and dispositions didn't always align.
Ghislain subtly scanned the representatives of each faction.
'I'm already acquainted with Count Ailesbur and his wife.'
The faction led by Meriel held control over the capital's commerce.
It was a group of nobles unmatched in wealth.
'Over there is Count Bhilore Norton…'
The eldest son of the kingdom's prime minister and chief justice, representing the kingdom's bureaucrats.
Given his authority over law and administration, his faction's political influence was formidable.
'And there's Marquis Maurice Macquarie.'
The kingdom's Master of Arms and commander-in-chief of the kingdom's forces.
His faction, responsible for the kingdom's military power, included most of the army's commanders who followed Marquis Macquarie.
'The fact that such powerful figures are attending this banquet shows how strong Marquis Branford's influence is.'
Most of the kingdom's high-ranking nobles who controlled its administration, military, and finances were gathered here.
These were the true power players moving the great nation of Lutania.
While it was reassuring to have such strong backing, Ghislain couldn't help but resent the Marquis's influence at this moment.
"Sigh…"
Ghislain let out a long sigh.
No matter who he greeted first, the others would surely feel slighted.
Given the immense power each figure wielded, alienating one of them could lead to considerable trouble in the future.
Meriel, catching Ghislain's gaze, covered her mouth with her fan and smiled mischievously.
She seemed quite entertained, eager to see how he would act.
'Tch, must be fun for those just watching.'
Ghislain shook his head and looked away.
Count Bhilore Norton, who had been conversing with the mayor of Cardenia and the protocol minister, smiled warmly when their eyes met.
It was well-known throughout the capital that he adored his niece Rozalin. Ghislain's curing of Rozalin's illness had likely earned him Bhilore's goodwill.
On the other side of the room stood Marquis Maurice Macquarie, arms crossed, his face framed by a thick beard.
'Ugh, that type of person is a pain if you get on their bad side.'
Even the Marquis Branford refrained from intervening, watching to see how Ghislain would choose.
'Fine, let's just get this over with.'
Making his decision, Ghislain stepped forward. All the nobles watched tensely.
Ghislain bowed politely to Count Ailesbur. Though Meriel was the faction's real power, Count Ailesbur was its official head.
"I am Baron Fenris. I look forward to working with you."
"Oh, yes. The pleasure is mine. Feel free to call me anytime you need help."
"Thank you."
Count Ailesbur smiled contentedly.
He was often regarded as less influential than the other faction leaders.
For Ghislain, who was being supported by the Marquis Branford, to greet him first was a significant boost to his reputation—a gift far more valuable than any gold or treasure.
Meriel, fanning herself, chuckled.
"My, my, little brother, you're so thoughtful."
Ghislain shrugged his shoulders.
"You shouldn't call me that in a formal setting."
"Oh, who cares? Thanks for saving our face, though."
Ghislain sighed and muttered.
"What's so important about the face... This is exhausting."
"You'll need to get used to it if you plan to stay in the capital. Besides, while we appreciate it, you're going to find things a lot more troublesome from now on."
Meriel subtly gestured with her fan toward Maurice.
The Marquis was glaring at Ghislain, making no effort to hide his displeasure.
"Ahem!"
Maurice cleared his throat loudly, making sure Ghislain could hear.
'How dare he disregard someone who controls the kingdom's military!'
Being linked with the likes of the Ailesbur faction, which only handled money, was already unpleasant. To be treated as a lesser priority was unthinkable.
"Just a country bumpkin merchant, huh? Birds of a feather flock together."
"Well, if he has any sense, he'll come to the Marquis next."
The nobles beside Maurice tried to console him.
However, their efforts were in vain as Ghislain approached Bhilore next.
Bhilore didn't seem to mind being second, greeting Ghislain with a broad smile.
"Thank you for curing Rozalin. Her mother was worried sick, but thanks to you, we can finally rest easy."
"I'm glad things worked out well."
"I also heard you spoke to the Marquis about the matter. I'll make sure the issues with the slavers and taxes are resolved swiftly."
"I appreciate your consideration."
As Ghislain and Bhilore exchanged pleasantries, Maurice's face turned red, and he exhaled sharply.
To be treated as an afterthought at such an important gathering of nobles—what a humiliation!
When Ghislain finally approached him, Maurice scowled and spoke with a sharp edge.
"As the son of a margrave, you should have greeted the kingdom's commander-in-chief first. Does your country bumpkin upbringing blind you to what's important?"
"I still have much to learn. I hope you will guide me."
Ghislain deflected smoothly, causing Maurice to grind his teeth in frustration.
"Don't get cocky just because the Branford family is backing you. If I wanted, I could crush you at any moment."
"I'll do my best to ensure that doesn't happen."
"We'll see."
Leaving the growling Maurice behind, Ghislain returned to his seat.
"Ahem!"
Maurice, visibly upset, drained his drink repeatedly.
He had already been displeased with the Marquis Branford supporting a country bumpkin like Ghislain, and now meeting him in person only worsened his impression.
While Maurice fumed, the nobles around him busied themselves trying to calm him down.
"It seems he's close to the Countess Ailesbur."
"Isn't Count Norton related to the Branford family? He probably had no choice."
Despite Maurice's displeasure, the other nobles began subtly shifting their attention elsewhere.
The banquet was, after all, not only about introducing Ghislain but also an opportunity to build connections with other nobles.
Rozalin, returning to Ghislain as he sipped water, asked in a low voice.
"Was the order intentional?"
"…I just went with what felt right."
"Haha, it didn't seem that way to me."
"I mean it."
"Well, it suits you in a way, Baron."
Their conversation was cut short as nobles, emboldened by the lightened atmosphere, flocked to the pair.
"It's an honor to meet you, Baron Fenris."
"Here's a small gift."
"I look forward to working with you. I am…"
The nobles approached Ghislain one after another, some even bearing gifts.
Naturally, Ghislain accepted them all without refusal.
Of course, their actions weren't out of genuine respect for Ghislain.
Behind their polite smiles lay faint disdain.
'Don't get full of yourself, country bumpkin. I'll put you in your place eventually.'
'Just a lowly merchant…'
Few sincerely acknowledged Ghislain.
Most sought to use him as a stepping stone to connect with the Marquis Branford.
While Ghislain was aware of this, he didn't care.
There was no point wasting energy on people who didn't matter.
'Ugh, this is so tiresome. I just want to go back and rest.'
But leaving wasn't an option.
For now, Ghislain had no choice but to endure, maintaining the bare minimum of courtesy while killing time.
Even if Ghislain didn't care about reputation, that didn't mean he'd deliberately tarnish it.
After the nobles finished greeting him, it was the young ladies' turn.
To them, Ghislain was an ideal target.
Rather than being forced into an arranged marriage with some odd noble by their family, they saw taming the country noble before them as a far better option.
'His family may not be great, and he's just a country bumpkin, but he's still a lord, isn't he? He's young, and he looks decent enough.'
'The conditions aren't perfect, but with the Marquis Branford's backing, he won't be dismissed so easily.'
Thus, they surrounded Ghislain, eager to speak with him.
"Do you have a fiancée or someone you love, Baron?"
"No."
"Then are you planning to get engaged or date someone?"
"No."
"Oh, come on! You should! You're so funny!"
"No."
Ghislain answered curtly, his face showing how fed up he was.
Oddly enough, his detached attitude made him all the more attractive compared to other men.
The young ladies laughed gleefully and continued to bombard him with questions.
Meanwhile, Rozalin, pushed aside by the crowd of young ladies, covered her face with her fan and ground her teeth.
"Patience, patience. Today is a good day… But these rude girls!"
Some enjoyed themselves, some grew jealous, others gossiped, and still, others watched with curiosity.
It was a typical noble banquet until an uninvited guest arrived.
The attendant at the door announced a name in a trembling voice.
"…Viscount enters!"
Thunk.
At the sound of the name echoing through the hall, all conversation ceased immediately.
"…Did I hear that right?"
"No way. It must be a mistake."
Forcing themselves to smile, the guests turned their eyes toward the door.
Tap… tap…
A gaunt, harsh-looking middle-aged man slowly entered the hall.
He walked with a cane, his leg badly deformed.
Yet his aura was so strong and unyielding that it completely overshadowed his physical flaw.
Tap… tap…
The sound of his cane reverberated throughout the silent hall.
The Marquis Branford narrowed his eyes, glaring at the man.
Ghislain's expression hardened the moment he saw the man's face.
Suppressing the murderous intent rising within him, Ghislain clenched his teeth.
'That man…'
It was their first meeting in this life, but Ghislain had heard his name countless times in his past life.
The man was known as the "Crippled Devil" for his cunning and cruel tactics.
'Viscount Raul Josef!'
A close confidant of the Duke of Delphine and a strategist for the ducal family, he had appeared at the royalist banquet.
[T/L: Please support me and read extra chapters here: https://ko-fi.com/revengerscans ]