27th day of the month of the gray dragon (March)10:12 PM

  Ever since he was born, Garry Baka Monsebrat had considered himself one of the unluckiest men in the entire Empire of Nexia. He might even have called himself the unluckiest in the entire world, but humility came first. After all, he was at a ball and couldn't spend the entire evening sighing or drowning his personal sorrows in alcohol. He would have looked bad, and his father would have rebuked him firmly if he embarrassed their already less-than-stellar fiefdom.

  Being noble is nice, but only when that nobility is actually worth something.

  Garry had been born the fifth child of a minor noble house. He hadn't lived much differently from a common fifth-born, by his own account. Sure, he'd always had food ready and warm blankets to hide in at night, but his parents had treated him with anything but respect.

  In the Empire of Nexia, it worked like that: only the firstborn inherited something. All the others were destined to be married to other houses or ended up as servants to nobles of equal or higher rank, always for the usual reason of creating lasting connections.

  They all look down on me...idiots.

  Garry struggled to keep his lips from curling in an offended grimace when a man of greater rank walked past him without even deigning to glance at him. He wanted to give in to irritation and shout at the man, but he decided to contain himself and straighten his suit. His well-groomed attire paled in comparison to that of all the other high-ranking nobles, who could not only afford to dress themselves in the finest designer suits, but even adorn their women as if they were a royal feast.

  He was a bachelor, without even a woman to accompany him to such events. His older brother, the lucky bastard, had plenty of those. Garry wasn't a bad-looking young man per se, but compared to his brothers he wasn't anything memorable. Frederic, the eldest son of the Monsebrat family, was a tall, handsome man with a powerful physique, fit for a soldier—or someone who had actually been trained for battle.

  Despite its counterintuitive nature, it was the firstborn sons of noble families who were expected to serve on the front lines of battle. It wasn't a legal requirement, but not having a son who distinguished himself in battle diminished the family's prestige; it was something even the most prominent nobles could not afford. In this regard, Garry had been fortunate—he was pathetic with the sword and physical training.

  Aside from that, the rest of his life had been a complete series of misfortunes. No one listened to him or cultivated the land as he suggested. Garry was certain that, if he had been indulged, the family fiefdom would surely be reborn in a new light. The Monsebrat family would finally emerge from the poverty that had threatened it for three generations, when one of their ancestors committed an ignoble act, ultimately causing their house to lose a great deal of power.

  What gorgeous clothes...they have money to spend.

  In the throes of envy, Garry looked back at the other guests. He was one of the very few lower-class members, and it showed. Perhaps that was why he was becoming so anxious, making him feel like everyone present was looking down on him.

  If only I had more money.

  His family's lands were unfertile and possessed nothing special that made them important. They were noble, but they didn't have much money. The only reason they had managed to survive until that point was thanks to two factors: first, they had agreed with other minor nobles of their faction—the aristocratic one—to help each other defend and cultivate the land; second, they had allied themselves with one of the Great Eight, Marquis Buck Druk Klint, the one who supported the First Prince in his bid for the throne.

  We don't have money just because all the founders have been inept for generations. If only I could be the leader...

  Garry clenched his right fist in anger. He was absolutely certain he had brilliant ideas for restoring his fiefdom to its former glory, but no one deigned to listen to him. He considered everyone else incompetent. If only his parents had had important connections, perhaps he could have saved himself with a proxy marriage, but he was seeing bleak prospects on that front. Seeing how things were going, he already imagined himself working as a mere butler in the home of some nobleman, hoping he wasn't one of those perverts who loved having young men around.

  Disgusting. And to think that luck was finally smiling on me.

  His third-born brother had died of an illness a few months earlier. This had increased Garry's value, albeit slightly. Of course, there were still his two older brothers and his fourth-born sister, but the latter wouldn't be a problem. A woman couldn't inherit if the family had at least one male heir; in fact, their father was already considering marrying her off to some nobleman of their faction to strengthen their ties.

  Garry didn't care about that ugly older sister; he didn't see her as a problem. Unfortunately, his two brothers—Frederic and Francois—were indeed. Their dying from illness was now unlikely, so he had to hope they died in war. Harvest season was still a long way off, but even the stones knew the Ashen Kingdom would attack them with some excuse, as it did every during the autumn.

  If only those two died in war...

  It would have been the perfect stroke of luck. With his brothers killed at the front, he could inherit and gain prestige by boasting about his deceased relatives to the other nobles. Who could hate a family that had sacrificed its blood for the country?

  Garry was really struggling not to laugh at the sight of himself being crowned—metaphorically speaking—as the new head of the family. He really had to hope for Lady Luck to make his dream come true.

  I'm already making connections. If all goes according to plan, our house will be a success! My father will regret always underestimating me and calling me incompetent!

  Just thinking about the bright future he longed for was enough to detach him from reality. It was as if he were sleeping with his eyes open. However...

  “Huh?”

  ...his heavenly dream was completely swept away by one feeling. It was powerful as a storm and beautiful as a goddess—and it had the form of a woman. To Garry's surprise, his eyes fell on a noble woman in the distance, who seemed to have just arrived on the scene. Even though the room was filled with beautiful ladies, they all paled before that deity.

  “What a stunner…”

  He muttered under his breath, almost automatically. No one had heard him, but even if someone had, they wouldn't have blamed him for that inappropriate comment. The woman was truly so beautiful that she would have made even the Imperial Princess, considered the Empire's treasure, pale.

  Garry unconsciously took a couple of steps forward, approaching the buffet where this woman was drinking. Now that he was less than ten feet away, he could see her more clearly. She was wearing an elegant red dress, perfectly matching her long, flaming crimson hats. She was also quite tall, over six feet tall in heels, so without them she must have been no less than five feet and five inches—perhaps a little more. Her hands were hidden by two velvety white gloves, while her face was of a perfection that bordered on the absurd. Perfect proportions, brown eyes, and thin lips covered in lipstick.

  Now that's a young woman! She makes everyone else look like old wives.

  The more he looked at her, the more he felt something in his lower abdomen. He had to restrain himself with all his might to avoid soiling his pants. That woman was so beautiful that he and all the men present felt the same reaction. No one dared meet her gaze, not so much out of rudeness, but because they were sure they wouldn't be able to keep their innate instincts in check. Garry could feel the dicks of all the men in the room struggling against the fabric of their pants to keep from riding up too high.

  Should I try to talk to her? No, I risk her noticing my state. But...maybe she's a big shot. I have to try!

  Unable to miss such an opportunity, Garry quickly moved toward the buffet, where the woman in question was deciding what to drink. He would speak to her first and earn some points in the future. He was absolutely certain that this meeting would bring him enormous advantages.

  “Excuse me, can I- “

  He didn't even have time to speak when a shorter figure positioned itself in front of him. It was a half-human girl—probably a raccoon—and she was equipped with a sword and leather armor. She was staring at him with a stern look, as if telling him to stay away.

  “And what do you want, little girl? How did you get into this exclusive ball?!”

  The presence of a demi-human was an insult. Was she someone's servant? It didn't matter—no one could stand in front of Garry and stare at him like he was trash. He expected the raccoon to back away, but instead she remained firm and serious as a rock.

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  “I would ask you not to approach my lady, thank you.”

  “You dare give me orders, insect?!”

  “What I am telling you are my lady’s directives, not mine.”

  “Stay where you belong! Do you know who I am?!”

  A vein could be seen pulsing on the young demi-human's forehead as she heard those words. It was clear she was ready to cut Garry in two with her sword, but a third figure—unrelated to the conversation—placed her hand between the girl ears and began to scratch them lightly. The wag of the girl's tail indicated she was quite happy to receive this treatment.

  “There’s no need to get so worked up, Talia.”

  A candid female voice spoke from behind the armed demi-human.

  “May I know what the problem is, handsome young man?”

  Garry's aggression completely disappeared when he realized that the question had been asked by the very woman he wanted to talk to. She had grabbed a glass of the best wine from the table and approached the two, a small smile on her face.

  “Um...N-No, sorry to disturb you. Is this demi-human your servant?”

  “That’s right, her name is Talia. She’s acting as one of my guards for today. I apologize if she bothered you.”

  “N-No problem, it was my fault.”

  Garry responded promptly, trying to appear humble but not overly so. He even bowed briefly.

  “What a well-mannered young man! My name is Lady Catherine, nice to meet you.”

  “Catherine? I’ve never heard that name. Aren’t you from the Empire?”

  “Oh, no. I’m from the Bashad Federation. What about you?”

  “I-My name is Garry Baka Monsebrat! I am one of the sons of the great Julius Baka Monsebrat! I believe you have heard of our illustrious house.”

  "Yes, certainly."

  It took the woman a few minutes to respond, but what else could she do? The house the young man had named was anything but as well-known or illustrious as he was trying to make her believe.

  “It’s rare for anyone from outside the imperial nobility to be invited at this kind of balls. You must have important connections, huh?”

  “Exactly. To be honest, I'm waiting for whoever invited me here to pick me up.”

  Garry clicked his tongue at this news. If it was true, it meant he had little time to ensnare this beautiful woman and make some business deal with her. Looking at the clothes she wore, it was obvious she was filthy rich—that kind of workmanship wasn't something you could borrow or rent. He suspected she'd paid for them out of her own pocket.

  A beauty from another country, what a stroke of luck! Thanks to my charm and brilliance, I'll definitely do a lot of business with her—I might even secure her as my first wife!

  Garry immediately reached for Lady Catherine's hand, as if to invite her to dance with him, but she withdrew her arm, as if to refuse the offer. Irritation began to seep through his veins: had this woman just dared to say no to him?

  “May I know what you're doing? Is it customary in your country to take ladies' hands without permission?”

  “Huh? N-No!”

  The other's confused tone instantly calmed the young man, who slumped his shoulders. Garry had made a mistake in his judgment; no one could assure him that Federation customs were the same as those of the Empire. He had made a mistake and would be quick to apologize, even though his pride told him to scold the woman for not having properly informed herself beforehand.

  “I meant to ask you to dance. Please excuse me if I bothered you.”

  “No problem, Lord Garry.”

  Catherine replied with a smile so beautiful it made the man go blind for two seconds.

  “However, I must still refuse your proposal to a dance.”

  “Huh? Why would you?!”

  The boy's tone had been a bit too loud, causing several nobles to turn to watch the two converse. Irritation had returned to Garry; he hated it when people said no to him, especially a woman he desired.

  "Unfortunately, I'm already married. My husband is away, and you couldn't have known that. I have to refuse; I don't want to disrespect my beloved. It would be problematic to explain me dancing with another man to him, don't you agree?"

  “O-Of course, you’re right. No problem.”

  Despite her response, Garry was still irritated—more with fate than with the woman this time. It was obvious that such a beauty was already married; being female, that was how she could make her fortune and career. Garry firmly believed that women were inferior to men in everything, so beauty was the only thing that mattered about them.

  However, he didn't give up hope. He was certain that Lady Catherine had married a decrepit old man whose only attraction was his wealth. If that were the case, he could try to seduce the woman, stealing her and her wealth away from her husband. It was a brilliant plan! He could earn money and a stunning woman with very little effort.

  I'm such a genius!

  Confident in his idea, Garry immediately started to talk with the beauty before him, hoping to gain information about her husband and try to put his plan into action. Unfortunately, he was stopped almost immediately by another female voice.

  “Lady Catherine! I’m glad you accepted my invitation!”

  A second woman, a little shorter, approached the divine beauty. Garry scrutinized the newcomer, trying in vain to recognize her. From what he could see, she seemed slender and beautiful—not comparable to the goddess Catherine, but seductive nonetheless. What was most striking was her ample breasts. They were the same size as the redhead's, but the dress the newcomer was wearing showed them off more directly.

  Garry had to force himself not to look at those two bowls, bringing his gaze to the eyes of their owner, who had completely ignored him and had immediately gone straight to Catherine.

  “Excuse me, but who are you?”

  He asked irritably. Garry hated being invisible to others.

  “Hmm? Oh, but you're the young scion of the Monsebrat house, I hadn't seen you.”

  The newcomer replied in a mocking tone. Garry had to restrain himself from shouting at her because of the disrespect—and rightly so, as the woman introduced herself shortly afterward.

  “I am Igva Poison Lustly.”

  “W-What?! Are you the patroness of House Lustly?!”

  "Exactly."

  Garry broke out in a cold sweat. He'd been lucky not to have snapped at that woman earlier, otherwise he'd have dug his own grave. House Lustly was one of the most influential of the high nobility, perhaps not on the level of the Great Eight, but certainly not far behind. That family was known even beyond the Empire's borders for its large trade in medicinal herbs and leather goods, but also for its uniqueness: it was the only house led by a woman. Normally, Igva would not have been able to inherit and remain unmarried, but all the family's claimants had died from poisoning or under mysterious circumstances.

  Naturally, the finger was immediately pointed at the only one who stood to gain from the situation—Igva herself—but in the absence of evidence, the accusations fell flat. It was later discovered that many of the poisoning deaths had been caused by disgruntled maids, and the good name of House Lustly shone brighter than ever after Igva herself had them killed to avenge her own dead relatives.

  “W-What good wind brings you here, Lady Igva?”

  Garry stammered, trying to maintain what little composure he had left. He was talking to a real big shot here—he couldn't afford to be silly or his father would kill him himself.

  “I came to call Lady Catherine. She's a guest in the salon with us aristocratic women.”

  A salon? So it was Igva who invited her here...

  In that context, the term "salon" usually referred to a gathering of high-class women who discussed various topics. Being invited to one of these was one of the few leisure activities for aristocratic women, not to mention that it served as a sign of social standing, demonstrating that one was something more than just a pretty ornament.

  For me, women should stay in the kitchen, not think about politics.

  Garry rolled his eyes inwardly, thinking about the gossip surrounding these women's gatherings. Some said the women only talked about frivolous trivia, while others claimed they covered politics and economics. Men's stuff, essentially.

  To him, it was all nonsense. Imagine women being in politics. It was because of this mentality that many came to Igva's defense when she was accused of killing her family and framing the maids in her place. The plan was so convoluted that there was no concrete evidence, since everything was based on theories. Garry was confident in his thinking: if the plan was so cunning that not even a man could understand it, then it couldn't have been conceived by a mere woman.

  It was simply impossible. Women had a basic education and were often simply used for their beauty. Wealthy women had the means to acquire knowledge, but for Garry, no master would stoop to teaching a woman, regardless of the money.

  But...teaching a noblewoman should be easy. Maybe I could offer to tutor some of them and make some easy money.

  Garry smiled proudly at his own wit and delighted in it - so much so that, from the height of his superior intellect, he did not realize that he had contradicted himself more than once in less than five minutes.

  “May I escort you to this salon, Lady Igva?”

  “Yet you should know that they are reserved for women only, Lord Garry.”

  "I'm aware of that, dear. However, I'd like to ask you to make an exception for me this time. I'm here to make new acquaintances, and I think your salon might prove to be an excellent opportunity to make connections."

  Garry inwardly congratulated himself after making such an excuse. He thought his honesty would make himself seem trustworthy in Igva’s eyes but, unbeknownst to him, it actually had the opposite effect. Everyone was there to make connections; it was one of the many unwritten rules of the great board game that was imperial nobility. Anyone would say they were there to have fun, even if the truth was crystal clear. No one would be foolish enough to reveal the real reason for their presence at an aristocratic ball- except Garry, of course.

  The young man was so confident he'd knocked his opponent out with his proposal that he was already grinning, anticipating the amusing conversation he'd soon have in the company of beautiful ladies. Since he would be the only man present, he would be seen as something exceptional and exotic.

  All the attention will be on me!

  He thought smiling, before Igva's answer brought him back to reality.

  “I’m sorry, but I must insist that you not come.”

  “W-What? And why?”

  "Because there will also be married women in the lounge. I'm the only one without a husband, and—"

  “Showing up with a man won't be a problem!”

  He interrupted her, trying to take control of the conversation.

  “On the contrary! Would the others envy you for having someone like me by your side?”

  “Envied, you say?”

  Beneath the smile she was flashing, Igva hid a frustrated grimace; it would have been obvious to everyone...everyone except Garry, of course. Indeed, her answer wasn't long in coming.

  “Of course! Come on, let me come!”

  “If I may butt in...”

  Their gazes fell on Lady Catherine, who had remained silent until then. Her demi-human guard still stood before her, but she didn't seem at all ready to attack; on the contrary, she was listening with interest to her mistress's words.

  “I don't usually like to take sides, but in this case I have to side with Lady Igva.”

  “W-What?! And why?”

  "Because, as Lady Igva was saying before she was interrupted, she’s the only unmarried woman in this evening's group. If the other women's husbands knew they weren't allowed to attend the salon, but a total stranger like you was, there would be trouble. They'd surely take it out on their poor wives, wouldn't you agree?"

  "I..."

  He didn't know how to respond. The divine beauty's reasoning had been so perfect that Garry had to give up on the spot. He was annoyed at having lost an argument with a woman, but he blamed the stupid rules of the salon rather than his own naivety.

  “We have to go now.”

  Igva declared beamingly, clapping her hands.

  “See you around, Lord Garry.”

  With that, the two women and the demi-human left the room, leaving Garry empty-handed. He could only grit his teeth and bite his lip, clutching his chest like a naughty child.

  Curse you!

  The interlude of this volume has been split into two parts! Therefore, a double chapter will be released today!

  As always, please leave a comment and a rating to help the author improve the story even further.