IATAOTHKG | CHAPTER 85

[CHAPTER 85]

“It looks like all the citizens of the Farman Empire have gathered here.”

Curden frowned deeply as he looked at the swarm-like crowd and grumbled.

Adonis glanced at him, tipping his summer fedora slightly as he observed the coachman.

Taking out a handkerchief, he wiped the sweat from his forehead and then adjusted his fedora before letting his gaze sweep over Curden.

The scorching midsummer heat, combined with the noisy crowd—no matter how sacred the national religious event was, Kasadin was filled with things Curden utterly detested.

“Lord Lota. Relax your expression.”

“What’s wrong with my expression?”

Curden, whose temper was hardly inferior to Caliph’s, snapped back instantly.

Adonis, who was used to both of them, shrugged without moving an eyelid.

“Anyone watching would probably say, ‘Lord Lota, at least force a smile.’”

“Hmm?”

“And then they’d add this.”

Clearing his throat softly, Adonis continued in a melodious female voice.

“‘Don’t you see the crowd of reporters? If a photo is taken with that expression, there will be a flood of false articles: Caliph Lenox and his personal lawyer Curden Lota, rumored extreme discord!’”

“Who dares scold me like that?”

“You know very well.”

A woman’s face came to mind for both men.

The person who had treated Curden, the notoriously prickly lawyer of the House of Lota, like a close colleague.

The one who could give seemingly bothersome admonishments with endless warmth and charm.

It was Meyna.

Feeling a sudden pang of melancholy, Adonis forced a smile, tugging up the corners of his mouth.

“We still have plenty of time before lunch.”

Checking his wristwatch, he subtly asked Curden.

“Shall we go on a date?”

“Ugh.”

Curden pretended to gag.

At that moment, a group of women passed by, whispering among themselves.

“Where did she get that pink dress?”

“Let’s go ask her. Quickly!”

“How dare you…! It looks like they’re spending some private time together.”

Apparently, they were talking about the unknown woman everyone had been praising.

Curden and Adonis looked around with bored expressions.

Women, fully dressed and scented from head to toe, walked the streets of Kasadin as if it were a massive fashion show.

Yet among the crowd, there was no single extraordinary figure who could command all this attention.

Adonis glanced at Curden.

“Who do you think they’re talking about?”

“Exactly.”

Curden shrugged.

“…”

“…”

Adonis and Curden stared at each other with indifferent expressions.

The passersby’s murmurs reached the two men’s ears, roughly running along these lines:

1. Who is that incredible beauty?
2. Is the man beside her her husband?
3. What! He’s extremely handsome!
4. Incredible beauty! Amazing!
5. Look at the curve of her shoes, so unique, and the ankles, and the scent, and so on.

Which of these topics caught the two men’s interest?

Absolutely none.

Born male but exhausted from excessive work, they would rather take a nap than meet women.

“When is that guy coming?”

Curden flailed his hand in frustration.

Caliph, who had departed first by carriage with Pippin, had yet to arrive for some reason.

“Lord Lota. Shall we go somewhere cooler and wait?”

“No.”

“Aren’t you hot?”

“Better to be roasted in the sun. If we go off route, that guy will probably throw a fit again.”

“Fair enough.”

Adonis immediately understood.

Two women, arms crossed, made their way against the crowd, their faces flushed as they called out.

“Her hair color must be natural, right?”

“Emerald hair like that!”

The two men’s eyes, which had been as dull as dead fish, simultaneously glinted.

Curden, impatient as ever, was about to speak to the women when Adonis said,

“He’s here.”

“Tch.”

Curden licked his lips and followed Adonis’s gaze with his legs crossed.

From a distant stopped carriage, Pippin leapt out.

In a deep pink dress adorned with royal jewels, she scanned the area, saw Curden, and waved both arms enthusiastically.

Caliph followed behind her.

“Kya! There are so many people?!”

Pippin covered her mouth with both hands and stamped her feet.

“On the way here, I heard people saying there’s an incredible beauty, wearing a pink dress.”

Holding the hem of her vivid pink dress, she spun around once.

“There are plenty of women in pink dresses, though? But…”

She smiled shyly and trailed off.

Click—!

Pippin suddenly stepped forward and lifted her dress.

“Oops.”

Adonis flinched at her antics.

Curden, arms crossed, watched her with a tilted, indifferent stance.

“And those sparkling silver heels curve in such a strange way!”

Coincidentally, her shoes were uniquely shaped, curving like waves.

“They must be talking about me…!”

Pippin had suddenly become the center of attention for the crowd.

“Haha…! That could be.”

Adonis smiled awkwardly.

Curden, still not responding, finally opened his mouth expressionlessly.

“Did you happen to hear what they were saying about her hair color? Not the usual blonde like Perepena or Yang, but emera—”

“Lord Lota…!”

Adonis hurriedly stopped Curden.

Ever since Pippin became part of Lord Lenox Castle, Curden had been cold toward her.

Not even glancing at the crestfallen Pippin pouting her lips, Curden began to move.

He was heading toward the luncheon hall.

However, Caliph turned in the opposite direction.

Curden furrowed his brow and asked,

“Business?”

“Lunch?”

Caliph answered.

“I’m not going.”

“Why!”

Adonis, pale, interrupted.

Caliph did not answer and quickly disappeared into the crowd.

“That crazy bastard.”

Curden cursed thickly, pulling out a cigarette from his back pocket and lighting it.

Adonis stamped his feet, calling toward Caliph’s back.

“Lord Lenox! You must attend the banquet! Her Majesty the Empress, the Great Saintesses, and the elders from the Association will all be present…!”

“Just leave him.”

Curden stopped Adonis, adding with a look of utter exasperation.

“If he intends to, he will come to the banquet.”

Pippin, observing the situation, shouted resolutely.

“I’ll fetch him!”

Like a competent aide, she followed Caliph’s back with a dignified stride.

“Phew…”

Adonis let out a deep sigh.

Curden dropped the unlit cigarette and crushed it under his shoe heel.

* * *

As dusk approached, Meyna, having changed clothes with Axelt, was ready to attend the banquet.

The luncheon at noon concluded without any special events.

“All the business cards received earlier have been placed on the side table. There were 122 in total.”

Of course, the claim that nothing special happened was only Meyna’s perception.

Nobles and ability users from various regions, and even journalists, had all appeared at the luncheon, competing to hand her their business cards.

Meyna scratched her head as she glanced at the piles of cards.

“One person who introduced themselves as a royal journalist said they’d like to schedule an interview next week.”

“Me? Why…?”

Meyna trailed off, pale.

‘Did the royal family already find out that I’ll awaken soon?’

Yet Axelt’s response was unexpected.

“They want to put your face on the cover of the September issue of the monthly magazine ‘Farman, Farman!’”

“Me? Why?”

Meyna asked again, bewildered.

“It seems you’re the only one who doesn’t know.”

Axelt, giving an incomprehensible answer, finished checking Meyna’s attire.

“Shall we go?”

Meyna, linking arms with the outstretched Axelt, looked at herself in the full-length mirror beside the bed.

It felt awkward, as if she were the protagonist, lavishly dressed.

‘Someone might think I’m a duke’s daughter… oh, I am a duke’s daughter.’

A fleeting smile crossed Meyna’s face as Caliph’s face suddenly came to mind.

He had not appeared at the luncheon, and everyone had been looking for him.

Since he hadn’t shown up by the end of the event, he might not come to the banquet either.

‘Good.’

Her uneasy feelings lightened.

Relying on Axelt, Meyna carefully stepped out of the hotel room.