Gunmage
Chapter 141: Courtship and cold shoulders

Chapter 141: Chapter 141: Courtship and cold shoulders

A figure walked—no, stumbled—through grand halls illuminated by flickering candlelight.

Shadows danced across gilded walls and ornate columns as his uneven steps echoed faintly behind him. He found a servant nearby, the same old butler who had been attending to his needs for the past few months.

"Hey, where is everyone?"

The old man in uniform replied swiftly, bowing his head,

"They went to the Von Heim ball, milord."

"It’s today?!"

"Y-yes, milord..."

"Why did no one tell me?"

The man snapped, then turned and staggered back toward his room with sudden urgency.

"Sir, what are you doing?"

The butler asked, clearly uncertain.

"Getting dressed,"

The man replied without a second thought.

"But... why?"

"So I can go to the ball. Are you slow?"

As soon as the words left his lips, his legs buckled, and he crashed to the floor ungracefully. His forehead slammed against a wooden cabinet with a painful thud.

"Goddammit!"

"Forgive my intrusion, sir, but you’re in no condition to go anywhere,"

The butler said, now jittery. He was the one who would suffer the backlash if anything happened.

"I’m going."

The man’s soft voice carried a tone of finality that was impossible to argue with.

"B-but—"

"Ready the carriages,"

The man cut in, now hoisting himself up with a ragged breath.

"I’ll be with you soon."

There was a brief silence between them.

"What are you waiting for? Hurry!"

The butler scurried away, heedless of decorum under the weight of the command. The man steadied himself, then reached for his coat, draping it over his shoulders. He picked up a cane for support and, with parcel in hand, walked out of the room.

...

The opening dance between Draque’sill and the Queen had just concluded. A round of applause followed. It was polite, brief, and mostly insincere.

The Queen was... fine. No one knew much about her. But Draque’sill, the High Cardinal who had recently threatened half the attendees, was harder to clap for.

The applause was sparse, strained. Among the loyalists of the Church, it was the Queen they disapproved of, the woman who had threatened their spiritual leader.

And so, their applause too was reluctant. It was a strange dynamic. The only ones who clapped with genuine enthusiasm were those too young—or too indifferent—to care.

Lugh watched it all with amusement.

He had only heard of events like this and glimpsed them through the memories of others.

But this... this was the first time he witnessed a high society ball with his own two eyes. His childhood had been anything but open.

Though not part of the festivities himself, observing from afar wasn’t so bad.

The first dance had ended, and the main dance was supposed to follow immediately after. But, after what had just happened, the organizers wisely inserted a buffer to let everyone settle down.

Most used the pause to socialize and expand their networks, it was just how nobles operated. Even their leisure was laced with strategy.

Between managing estates and provinces, overseeing vassals, attending councils, navigating scandals, securing heirs, maintaining bloodlines, and dodging assassins, nobles rarely had time for themselves.

Events like balls and hunts had to multitask as both entertainment and opportunity, soothing the nerves while fostering new alliances, trade partners, and social leverage.

Only those with lesser responsibilities—especially the younger generation—were free to indulge. And it was these people whom Lugh’s gaze drifted to most often.

"Hey, that was exciting, wasn’t it?"

A group of Von Heim cousins whispered, minds still replaying the earlier confrontation.

At the edges of the hall, the Inquisition and royal guards stood like statues—unmoving, silent, stationed on opposite sides. Neither had joined the festivities.

Their presence was a reminder that even under chandeliers and music, danger lingered.

Speaking of Von Heim...

Lugh’s attention settled on his four stepsisters.

Mirelle, as expected, was swarmed. Noble youths surrounded her in droves, both older and younger, both male and female. She thrived in the spotlight.

Her older sister, by contrast, stood apart. Composed. Cold. Picture-perfect. Her hair was styled to fall over one eye, adding a layer of mystique.

She was the very image of a noble lady, proud, aloof, precise. But also, Lugh noticed, generic.

Her personality was masked, her words measured. Fewer people approached her, and those who did were youths with clear agendas, their courtesy tight, their speech formal but their intentions sharper.

They vied subtly for her attention.

Though her mask was perfect, Lugh could see the hidden emotions within. As the oldest, she wasn’t acting like this because she wanted to, but because she had to. Rather, because she thought she had to.

Isolde, their mother, might have been cruel and inane to Lugh, but she was a genuinely kind mother to her daughters.

Far from the rigid, oppressive noblewomen of tradition, as far as he had seen, she’d never forced them to do anything they didn’t want to do. Letting them enjoy a level of freedom that quite frankly, was completely unheard of amongst noble circles.

Even Lirienne who was previously unable to use magic had never been treated differently.

In another household, that alone would’ve made her an outcast.

As for Lirienne...

Lugh’s gaze found her at the edge of the hall, hands nervously tugging at her dress. She stood alone. No one approached. She didn’t seem to have friends.

The only people who tried were opportunistic noble boys who thought the competition around her older sisters was too fierce and were hoping to fall back on a weaker target.

After all, she was still from the main branch of the Von Heim family, a marriage alliance with her could not be underestimated.

But Lirienne, sharp and stubborn, had seen through them and sent them away without ceremony.

In that, she resembled her mother.

Except in this case, surrounded by more talented, more glamorous siblings, she remained isolated.

Even girls her age avoided her, perhaps because of her attitude. But Lugh wondered, Which came first? The way she acted, or the way she was treated?

He shook his head.

Finally, his eyes landed on Aveline, the youngest.

And from what he was now seeing... the most terrifying.

"Well, well"

He murmured, leaning deeper into the railing as a new commotion unfolded below.

"Today really is full of surprises."