Bermuda

"How long do you think it will take to arrive?"

"Since this area is particularly crowded, it will likely take more than fifteen minutes. Should I ask them to speed up?"

Hugo, who had sent the coachman to a physician with the guards’ help, was heading to the banquet venue after hurriedly boarding his attendants’ carriage. Since carriages were symbols of power and wealth, his subordinates seemed to want to dissuade him from riding with them, but there was no other option. Even at the carriage rental place, it was difficult to find a luxury vehicle comparable to the Duke’s white carriage.

Pentagove’s mana control zone wasn’t particularly large, so teleportation would have been ideal, but since the party house—his destination—was a place he had never visited before, movement via teleport was impossible. Even aside from that, if rumors spread that the Duke had entered the banquet venue alone without a carriage, the Grand Madam, who valued dignity, would not leave the attendants who had assisted him alone.

Finally giving up on arriving on time, Hugo leaned back in his seat and looked down at his wristwatch.

"...No, don't rush. It would be a big problem if another accident occurred."

Even as he said this, he calculated the remaining time. 5:55 PM.

Though Duncan, who wanted the protagonist of the banquet, wouldn’t be pleased, it seemed he could still arrive not long after the start of the main ceremony.

Hugo crossed his arms, hoping there would be no more incidents. In the sky outside the window, twilight flowed as if fire had spread.

The red clouds passed over the roof of the party house, faintly visible in the distance.

If there was any consolation, it was that he hadn’t been delayed as much as expected.

*****

"Don't our Baroness Penrod and Count Duncan make a well-matched pair?"

"Haha, Lord Duncan. Already saying 'our'?"

"At this rate, talk of children will come up next."

"Well, the sooner the better." 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝐰𝚎𝕓𝐧𝚘𝘃𝗲𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝕞

Duncan, who had introduced Margaret Penrod to his close nobles, seemed excited, as if intoxicated though he hadn’t been drinking. When he first appeared with the Baroness in front of the group of nobles, the atmosphere had become so awkward that silence hung for a moment. However, Baroness Penrod’s uniquely gentle and charming social skills were enough to quickly win people’s favor.

Some whispered behind her back that she was openly seeking out powerful people from her first banquet. She had clearly entered with a partner, but now she was ignoring him and even trying to wash away her origins.

But that was jealousy from those not included in the group led by Duncan. As a young noble who had suddenly appeared was controlling the banquet hall, it was natural for old nobles who weren’t in the mainstream to be annoyed.

Of course, regardless of that, Duncan was busy building up recognition of the prospective mistress of the Count’s family.

"Come this way. Since you said you're preparing to expand your military supply business, I must introduce you to the Marshals."

"Do you mean Lord Jeffrey Marshal? I've been wanting to greet him for a while. It's an honor."

"Oh, you know Marshal? Then the conversation will be quick. He's an elite official with a reputation even in the military. It will be helpful if you get acquainted with each other."

"Since Mrs. Marshal is from the Agrizendro family, connections with the Duke will also be smooth. The Duke is also looking into investment opportunities related to the military supply business recently..."

One of the men in the group chimed in, then trailed off. It was because Duncan’s sharp glare had fixed on his face.

"Why are you bringing that up now? Mrs. Marshal is already married out of her family—what connection does she have with the Duke's mansion?"

"Hmm... I apologize."

The man responded with an awkward cough. Though he hadn’t said anything wrong, he felt Duncan’s displeasure acutely. Duncan was worried that the prospective mistress of the Count’s family might be tempted by connections to the Duke.

Normally, he would have mocked the Duke who had not yet shown his face, saying he disrespected time and wrapping it as a joke. However, the reason he didn’t bring up that topic at all today was because he wanted to make Margaret Penrod firmly his before the Duke arrived.

If she was recognized as a member of the pro-emperor faction through him, she would realize the influence of the Duncan Count’s family here. Even if she had approached for business benefits, he intended to show her thoroughly which side would be more advantageous to align with.

"Anyway, it's good to greet Lord Marshal... But where has he gone?"

"It seems he hasn't arrived yet."

"What? I've been circulating invitations for months. He should have come early..."

Duncan clicked his tongue and showed his displeasure. At that moment, the lights on the ceiling of the banquet hall suddenly began to flicker.

"Huh, what's this?"

"The lights..."

As darkness fell for a moment and then brightened, everyone in the hall looked up at the ceiling. Wondering if there was a problem with the facilities, Richard Duncan, who had been standing awkwardly beside his father, grabbed a nearby servant and whispered:

"Have you checked the cylinder?"

"I'll check it right away."

The servant ran to the facility room to check the cylinder that powered the party house. The chandelier hanging in the center emitted bright light again as if nothing had happened. As the atmosphere grew slightly unsettled, Duncan continued speaking as if it were nothing:

"Don't worry about it. Sometimes it flickers and such."

"My lord, the time for the main ceremony is almost upon us. What shall we do?"

Someone who appeared to be the house manager approached and casually informed him. Duncan checked the large clock in the hall. The time was already past 6:10 PM.

"Oh my, look at me. We should start soon. The Count and I will change and come back, so everyone please take good care of our Baroness."

"Of course."

"Have a good time."

The Duncan father and son offered a brief farewell before quickly going up to the second floor for the main ceremony proceedings. Among the remaining nobles, Duncan’s close associates headed to the second floor together to secure good seats.

The rest either moved to the center of the hall to greet others or turned their interest to the Baroness again.

"By the way, I heard she's incredibly wealthy..."

"Did she dive into business from a young age?"

Baroness Penrod, who had been quietly observing the situation, smiled as soon as the Duncan father and son entered the lounge. Then, slightly bowing her head, she spoke:

"I apologize, but I'd like to tidy up my appearance before meeting more people. Please excuse me for a moment."

As she also seemed about to leave her place, the nobles who had been speaking to her exchanged glances, feeling awkward.

"There's a guest room on the second floor, so use that. Since His Lordship particularly cherishes the Baroness, he would permit it. I'll mention it to him separately."

"Thank you for your consideration. But I think it would be better to leave the space for more important distinguished guests."

The Baroness, having declined the favor, placed her hand on her chest and added with a polite bow:

"I'll be back soon."

Having responded gently yet firmly, she soon disappeared into the crowd. Her receding gait was elegant.

The nobles followed her with their eyes, but since she said she would return, no one paid much attention.

They only secretly expressed regret at discovering such a talent too late, saying it was too wasteful to give her to Richard Duncan. In some quarters, complaints erupted that she had left because there was nothing more to see after the Duncan father and son and the main figures had departed. However, thanks to louder voices around them admonishing the speaker, the complaints were quietly buried.

Meanwhile, Baroness Penrod headed to a small terrace space arranged off to one side of the hall.

It was a place where hardly anyone came and went, tucked behind a thick pillar.

She closed the door thoroughly before moving to a blind spot not visible from inside. After examining the surrounding terrain and potential lines of sight, she took out a communication magic tool and contacted someone.

―Progress?

The connection sound was quickly cut off, and the other person, who seemed to have been waiting for quite some time, asked before she could even open her mouth.

"Preparations complete. I'm on my way out after receiving the signal."

―Agrizendro?

"He wasn't in the hall. Should we delay ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) the plan?"

The man’s voice on the other end was silent for a moment before continuing:

―It's better if he's not there. He has unnecessarily good intuition and a tough life thread.

"Then I'll proceed as planned. Most are gathered on the second floor."

―Come out within three minutes.

The other person cut the connection after those final words. Baroness Penrod looked down at the communication magic tool before slipping it into her pants pocket.

Soon, she took off her shoes and suit jacket, then tucked Margaret Penrod’s metal business card into the inner pocket.

She crossed the terrace barefoot and tossed the shoes and clothes she’d been holding into the inner part of the hall.

On the waist belt that had been hidden by the jacket, the intaglio of 'Buckle Smith' was finely engraved.