Chapter 107 Stealing the Spotlight
The main doors of the hall suddenly swung open. The whispers that had been focused on me and the couple's outfit between me and me instantly shifted to the entrance.
Thank goodness. Let everyone focus on something more interesting, far from those cheap rumors about me supposedly stealing the imperial general.
Lysandra appeared from behind the door, accompanied by Prince Didier, who looked incredibly handsome tonight. His formal attire was flawless, and his warm smile perfectly matched Lysandra's dazzling appearance.
That woman really knows how to draw attention. She wore a pure white gown embroidered with silver thread from the royal temple. The fabric shimmered every time the crystal chandeliers above caught it, making her look utterly flawless.
Her blonde hair was styled half-down, adorned with delicate little gems.
People were instantly captivated. The older nobles looked touched, like they were watching their own daughter graduate.
All eyes that had briefly been on me because of the matching outfit quickly returned to the beloved holy maiden—just like a novel's main character.
I breathed a sigh of relief. Thank whoever set my fate tonight—my torment was finally over. Let them worship Lysandra all they want. I could finally hide behind a pillar without getting stabbed by the jealous glares of Claus's devoted fans.
Before the event began, Claus had told me he needed to sit at the front with the royal family. I nodded and told him it was fine. Honestly, I was planning to sneak away if the party got too boring, anyway.
But apparently, the night's drama wasn't over yet.
Not long after Lysandra and Didier greeted the King on the main podium, a royal delegation from another territory entered the hall. At the front of the group was a guy whose relaxed, almost rebellious stride stood out among the dozens of formally dressed guests.
Prince Kurt. The envoy from a neighboring country.
I remembered, according to the novel, Kurt was also one of the princes close to Lysandra, and he had even made Didier jealous.
Didier is the manipulative type, always acting innocent in public, but Kurt is a different story.
He's flamboyant, and completely fed up with the palace's formalities.
His blond hair was a little messy, his royal jacket unbuttoned, and his face showed he'd rather sleep in a horse stable than smile at the line of nobles waiting to shake his hand.
Some noble girls were already standing at the edge of the red carpet. They pretended to be shy, took a step forward with a flirty wink, hoping to be greeted first by the flamboyant prince. Their act was so obvious, it was honestly hilarious.
But Kurt's reaction?
He didn't even bother to greet them, or even look at them.
He just kept a blank face and walked right past the line of noble ladies, mumbling quietly and trying to hide his boredom.
The girls who'd struck their prettiest poses immediately looked disappointed, and their mothers sighed in frustration behind them.
I laughed. Easily the most entertaining sight of the night. Serves them right—just because he's a prince, they think every girl will swoon.
I picked up a small plate from the table, put three mini cheese tarts on it, and started eating quietly. My mind wandered. Good, Kurt. Keep it up. Cause more chaos so everyone's busy fussing over you, and let me hide here until the party's over without anyone noticing me. Suddenly, I missed Gisella.
But my expectations were too high.
Footsteps suddenly stopped in front of me.
Not just any footsteps. The sound of shoes came to a halt right at the table where I was standing.
I stopped chewing. The cheese tart in my mouth was suddenly hard to swallow.
I looked up slowly, shifting the remaining pastries on my plate. My hand almost dropped the plate when my eyes met a tall, blond, tousle-haired guy looking at me with one eyebrow raised.
Prince Kurt.
He was standing very close, leaning down a bit to look at my suddenly pale face.
"Hey," Kurt said casually, a crooked smile on his lips. "Your dress is the same color as that general over there. Was that on purpose, Miss, or just a coincidence?"
Damn. Why did he have to stop at my table?