Chapter 109 His Name is Kurt von Thurn
Oh my God. It seems like Prince Kurt really has nothing better to do than make my life feel even closer to the grave.
Instead of leaving after his know-it-all comment, he just makes himself comfortable by leaning against the edge of the table. He crosses his legs, his right hand still holding the plate of cheese tarts I took earlier.
He really didn't care about the sharp looks from the nobles who had been lining up for his attention all night.
Some noble girls were already pouting. The whispers around us quickly changed direction. If they were talking about my supposedly copied dress before, now the gossip had shifted entirely.
"Why is Prince Kurt sticking to the Viscount Varannes's daughter?"
"Did that shameless girl use a spell?"
"Honestly, I kind of hate her bold style."
I pretended not to hear. I kept my head down, busy staring at my own feet, silently complaining about being born a side character in this ridiculous novel.
At first, my plan tonight was simply to be as invisible as a wall decoration, eat free cake, and go home safely without a scratch. But now? I've become the center of attention for the two most dangerous men in the empire.
Kurt grinned widely at the rising commotion around us. He didn't feel awkward at all about being ignored. On the contrary, he seemed to enjoy this free spectacle.
"Hey, Miss Varannes," Kurt called out casually, grabbing a cheese tart from my plate. "Why such a long face? You should be happy. It's not every day a handsome foreign prince wants to hang out with you."
"If Your Highness came here just to raise my blood pressure, I suggest you go back to your welcoming party," I whispered irritably, making sure my voice was low enough for only us to hear. "Look at Baron Hermona's daughter over there—she looks ready to eat me alive since you're ignoring her."
Kurt glanced lazily at the group of noble girls glaring at me. He sighed softly and rolled his eyes, looking bored.
"Just ignore them," Kurt replied lightly. "I get tired of meeting girls who only make empty compliments and show off their jewelry. I'd rather talk to you. At least you're not an airhead."
What kind of compliment is that? I didn't feel flattered at all. If anything, I wanted to run away to the palace kitchen and hide in a sack of potatoes.
My instincts made me glance away to check the situation. By chance, my eyes caught sight of the main stage, where the royal family sat on their thrones.
And there, sitting as stiffly as ever, was Claus—looking right at us.
My heart dropped to my stomach.
Even from this distance, Claus's face was typically blank. But his jaw was clenched so tightly, I could see the muscles moving in his cheek. And his right hand... his fingers were tapping rapidly on the gilded armrest. Tap. Tap. Tap.
That wasn't a casual gesture. That was a warning. The body language of a predator holding back before pouncing on its prey.
Oh my God. The Duke is watching us.
If Claus gets the wrong idea and decides to have my head cut off tomorrow morning out of anger, what will happen to my apartment lease out there?
I quickly stepped back, pulling myself away from Kurt. "Your Highness, please move. General Claus is looking this way."
Kurt just laughed quietly, stepping forward to keep the distance between us close. "Let the Duke watch. So what if he's mad? You're not his, are you?"
The hall grew livelier as the musicians began to play a gentle classical dance.
The crystal lights dimmed a little, making everything feel even more romantic for the crown prince's engagement party.
Noble couples began to fill the main dance floor.
Didier was already leading Lysandra to the center to start the first dance. Everyone applauded enthusiastically.
But Kurt didn't seem interested in dancing with any other girl. His eyes remained fixed on me. His breath was almost at my ear as he whispered,
"If you're not Claus's partner..." Kurt whispered, his voice lower and full of challenge that sent shivers down my spine, "...then I suppose I'm allowed to ask you for a dance, Mademoiselle?"