The Villainess's Secret Bedroom Service
Chapter 144: The Birthday Banquet

Chapter 144: The Birthday Banquet

The Dio mansion had not seen such exuberance and commotion in what felt like an eternity. The esteemed guests who had journeyed from every corner of the Capital to commemorate the birthday of Her Grace Duchess Rosalie Dio reveled in the unaccustomed opulence of the estate. They delighted in the cornucopia of delectable dishes and exquisite beverages, engaging in lively exchanges with one another.

True to her word, despite her frail state, Rosalie dedicated the entire day to supervising the preparations for her festivity. She meticulously ensured that every detail surpassed perfection, aiming to welcome her guests with an ambiance that was not just warm, but a celebration in its own right.

Unfortunately, her toil did not halt there. With the esteemed guests trickling in, the duchess swiftly delved into welcoming speeches and light banter, exemplifying flawless manners and warm hospitality. She effortlessly glided from one cluster to another, her radiant face adorned with a captivating, benevolent smile.

Meanwhile, the Crown Prince accepted a glass of crimson wine offered by one of the estate’s servants, savoring a substantial sip. His keen azure gaze remained fixed unwaveringly on Rosalie, tracking her every graceful movement across the expanse of the lavishly adorned banquet hall.

"Who could have fathomed that behind this resplendent, angelic countenance lies a soul tainted with a dark shadow?"

Acknowledging his personal assistant’s approach from within the throng, he nodded. Once the man was by his side, Loyd ran his gloved hand through his meticulously groomed hair, flashing a brief smile before commencing their conversation.

"Well, Benjamin, have my suspicions been validated?"

In response, the prince’s assistant exhaled a prolonged, weary sigh and shook his head,

"Unfortunately, Your Highness, our scouts reported no signs of movement along the border," the assistant conveyed. "Furthermore, neither His Grace Duke Damien nor Her Grace Duchess Rosalie were observed partaking in any dubious activities or associations since their engagement. Even if they are involved with the Demonic Cult, it appears they are receiving discreet assistance from an external source."

The Crown Prince redirected his attentive gaze toward the duchess, pausing briefly to indulge in another ample sip of red wine.

"So, nothing amiss, it seems? If this is a deception, it must be a meticulously crafted one. Well, maintain rigorous surveillance on the Dio family, and notify me promptly of any unusual developments," he instructed.

"As you wish, Your Highness."

With a bow, Benjamin departed from Loyd’s side, seamlessly blending into the mingling crowd. The prince’s lips curved into a sly smile, his eyes narrowing as he set down the now-empty wine glass on the nearby table. He began to make his way toward Rosalie, who was engrossed in a spirited conversation with one of the noble families.

"Pardon me, Your Grace. Might I borrow a moment of your time?" he interjected.

Taken aback by the sudden appearance of the Crown Prince, the group of nobles collectively bowed in unison, while Rosalie’s expression morphed into one of mild bewilderment, tinged with a hint of irritation.

"Oh, Your Highness... Well, yes, certainly."

Buoyed by the affirming nods of the noble family she had been conversing with, the duchess trailed after Loyd, moving toward one of the nearby tables. She involuntarily recoiled slightly as he abruptly halted and pivoted to address her, his expression morphing into an overtly artificial yet amiable smile.

"Once more, happy birthday, Lady Rosalie. This is an exquisite banquet you’ve orchestrated. It appears everyone is thoroughly relishing the affair," he remarked.

Rosalie cast a swift glance around, as if to validate Loyd’s observation, and responded with a nod.

"Well, thank you, Your Highness. Witnessing everyone enjoy themselves is truly the greatest gift for me today," Rosalie replied with a gracious smile.

"Your benevolence is truly commendable, Your Grace. However, you appear a bit fatigued. Are you feeling in good health?" Loyd inquired with genuine concern.

"Yes, I am simply a tad weary from the preparations, as you can imagine," she responded, her voice carrying a hint of exhaustion.

The Crown Prince nodded in understanding before adding,

"Yet, you still exude impeccable grace. It is no wonder that everyone here is captivated by your presence and eagerly seeks your attention."

Rosalie raised an eyebrow, her confusion evident at the cryptic statement.

"I’m sorry, what do you mean?" she inquired.

Rather than responding, Loyd merely tilted his head, gesturing discreetly behind her. Following his indication, the duchess turned carefully, only to find Rostan, clad in a resplendent green silk robe, striding toward her. He extended his arms, clearly intending to envelop her in a warm embrace.

"Happy Birthday, Your Grace! I’ve been hoping for a chance to see you all evening. Hosting such an elaborate gathering must be quite taxing, and you appear fatigued."

As the conversation persisted, the lady could not suppress a tinge of vexation that crept onto her expression, prompted by the persistent concern for her well-being. However, the faint flicker of annoyance swiftly dissipated as Rostan shook his head, transforming his demeanor into one of genuine delight.

"Please accept my apologies, My Lady. I never intended to cause offense, especially not during this celebration in your honor. Though I do recognize your fatigue, your beauty remains as resplendent as ever, leaving me in constant awe."

Rosalie felt a sense of unease settle over her, uncertain of the sincerity behind the lavish compliments. An awkward silence enveloped the space between them, gradually thickening until the Crown Prince himself shattered it with a hearty eruption of genuine laughter.

"Well, well, Your Highness, I must caution you to be wary of your words. After all, Lady Rosalie is wedded to the most formidable man in the entire Empire!" he exclaimed, amusement dancing in his eyes.

Rostan joined in with a soft chuckle, nodding as he discreetly slipped his hands into the opposite sleeves of his robe.

"I beg your pardon, Your Highness, I was not aware that offering compliments to married women in Rische was deemed inappropriate."

Surprisingly, the Izaarian prince’s remark elicited a surge of joy within Rosalie. Unable to contain her mirth, she clasped her hands over her mouth, a cascade of laughter bursting forth from her rosy lips. The infectious sound drew the attention of both princes, their faces softening as the warmth of her laughter resonated deep within their hearts.

Thus, the trio remained, enveloped in a shared moment of genuine merriment, akin to old, dear friends, oblivious to the fact that even this innocent interaction was stirring up one of the most unpleasant and unsightly emotions in someone else who stood in the shadows.