Unlike other heavy and formal parties, a party held for the sole purpose of charity fundraising or interaction between relatives, like the one opened today, was traditionally the responsibility of the wives. Therefore, nobody particularly minded the fact that Baron Willhem, having merely greeted the guests, had disappeared, as long as the Baroness maintained her place; dancing wasn't even considered an essential part of the event.

In reality, as soon as the first song began, those who rushed out to dance were mostly vibrant young people. The older ones were more engrossed in polite conversation or admiring the beautiful pieces of art placed throughout the hall.

But what about Duke Peletta, who was rumored to enjoy playing more than eating?

"Good music makes the body itch."

As Kishiar listened to the music and opened his mouth, the eyes of those around him were drawn to Yuder. There were piercing glances of curiosity, wondering if a commoner who knew nothing about dancing could possibly cling to the Duke even here.

Yuder responded to their expectations by deliberately showing discomfort.

"Then may I ... be over there for a while?"

"Go ahead."

As Kishiar promptly permitted, a knowing smile mixed in the eyes of the aristocrats. Yuder saw Kishiar, who had been glancing around, approach the Baroness, who was alone, and extend his hand, then turned his back. Immediately, a few of those who had been with Kishiar approached and began to speak as if they had been waiting.

"Hey, look at this. Yuder ...did you say Al? I want to hear a bit about what happened in Great Sarain Forest...."

‘You fool, it’s Yuder Aile.’

Yuder left only the words, "I'm sorry, but it's difficult now," while coldly cursing under his expressionless face, and quickly moved on. His appearance as he shook off the other requests and escaped to an area where the hall could not be seen looked like a commoner's flight filled with shame to anyone who saw it.

"Just as I thought, that's his limit," came a voice filled with scorn and pleasure. Yuder headed toward the table filled with small and beautiful foods prepared for the party guests to eat, leaving those voices behind.

Despite the great care taken to prepare the foods, almost none of the aristocrats attending the party had come this far. Only servants scurrying to carry uneaten food were seen around.

Yuder stood in front of a three-tiered plate containing a bite-sized food made of thinly baked square crackers topped with whipped cream and fruit and puckered his lips around a bright golden wine glass. A maid who had come to add new food to the plate stood beside Yuder, her head bowed.

"I don't recognize any of the food."

The maid's hand paused for a moment at Yuder's mumbled words, spoken as though to himself, his lips hidden behind the glass. She had her long hair coiled up under her hat and possessed ash-colored hair, rarely seen in the Empire.

This maid was none other than Marty, the non-nobleborn from the village of the Star of Nagran, who had lost her memory and was rescued by the Cavalry.

"That's the case for everyone."

Marty almost imperceptibly whispered. Yuder continued to fix his gaze on the table, taking small steps along the side.

"Where might the person who commanded the making of these pitiful dishes be now?"

"Before coming up here, I saw a butler politely escorting someone wrapped in a cloak toward the back."

While coldly answering, Marty continued to put down food and repeatedly arranged it to make it look beautiful. From a distance, it would have been impossible to tell that they were having a conversation.

"I wonder which will happen first: the plates on this table emptying, or the carriages outside disappearing."

"Regrettably, three have already vanished, so there's no point in betting."

"Three?"

"A bird with four wings, a sword with a split end, a sprout with red leaves."

As the words finished, a new maid appeared carrying another plate. Marty gave a nod to Yuder and then calmly turned to go back the way she came. No one paid any attention to the ordinary-looking maid.

Yuder continued to walk, holding the glass. As he returned to where the dancers were gathered, eager eyes pounced on him again as if expecting some amusing diversion.

Soon a song ended, and Kishiar was lightly kissing the back of the lady's hand in greeting.

"To leave such a wonderful dancer, where has the Baron gone? Shouldn't the next dance be with the Baron?"

"No... My husband has left for a moment to see our daughters..."

As her husband was mentioned, a faint unease and caution surfaced in the Baroness's eyes, which had been half-dazed while dancing.

"Is that so? When he returns, I must apologize for stealing the opportunity to enjoy our first dance."

Kishiar laughed cheerfully and retreated. Yuder watched this and then turned to head to a nearby empty lounge. The eyes of those finding the situation intriguing followed him.

Upon entering, the dim lounge, with a large window, gave a strong impression of a small bedroom with a curtain-able bed and unusually soft sofa. The room was dimly lit, not for the guests' comfort, but actually to help those enjoying secret liaisons during the party to conceal their identities - a fact known to all.

Yuder sat on the sofa, looking out at the brightly moonlit window, sipping the liquor in his hand. To him, it was no different from water, but it was, in fact, quite strong.

One sip, two sips, three sips.

Slowly, but at a regular pace, just as he swallowed the third sip, the door opened, and a familiar fragrance wafted in. A shadow engulfed Yuder, the sofa sinking as lips met, and the door closed with a harsh noise. Finally, all the astonished gasps and familiar murmurs that had been seeping through the tiny crack disappeared.

"...Haa."

The intense intruder, after intertwining and sucking the alcohol-soaked tongue, pulled away. It had been just a few seconds, but the heat that was ignited in the darkness and their breathing was hotter than ever before.

Yuder slowly blinked, staring intently at Kishiar's eyes as he pulled away. Suddenly, between the two pairs of eyes where flames of passion were burning, a soft laugh broke out.

"How is it outside?"

"So far, there are no signs of the Star of Nagran infiltrating here. As expected, Baron Willhem has headed to the security management team, and among the attendees, the families of Chears, Belfrant, and Ketel have already taken their carriages and left."

"They're the ones from last year's list, escaping well."

"Yes."

A cold smile danced on Kishiar's moist lips before it vanished.

“I was a little concerned that they might suddenly suspect the identities of those working on the day, but it seems there's no need.”

“If they doubt Marty and the others, it would be tantamount to doubting Prince Pruelle himself, so that's not possible.”

At the party hosted by the Willhem family today, many amnesiacs, including Marty, had come in as temporary workers. Having lost and then recovered their memories, they willingly volunteered to keep watch, identifying any covert infiltration by Nahan or the Star of Nagran, and silently observing the movements of those departing for the auction and the people of the Willhem family.

Neither Baron Willhem nor anyone else doubted the true identities of Pruelle and his information providers who had been taken under his wing. Even Yuder, who had expected increased vigilance due to Robel's previous attempts to infiltrate as a servant to find those who had lost their memories, was astonishingly unchallenged.

‘It was fortunate that Marty has such a good memory.’

Whether it was due to her strong willpower or not, having lost and then quickly regained her memory, Marty learned the crests of the visiting families to the Willhem house faster than anyone and thoroughly memorized her duties. She had already sold her face, so she couldn't infiltrate the mansion and was assigned to the auction area instead, which greatly worried Robel. But from what Yuder saw when they spoke earlier, it had evidently been needless concern.

“Now then... it's time for the support.”

Kishiar, taking the glass Yuder had been holding, smiled regretfully as he removed his cloak from his shoulders. It was a special cloak that changed its material and appearance when turned inside out.

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