The morning of the ball.
Standing before the mirror, I was reminded once again that I was a commoner.
The formalwear was not bad.
A deep navy jacket.
A black waistcoat.
Minimal ornamentation.
A small red lion crest of House Rosette was embroidered inside the cuffs.
It was understated at first glance, but anyone who looked closely would know the count’s house stood behind me.
The butler’s judgment had been precise.
The problem was not the clothes, but the person inside them.
I looked at Leon Cart in the mirror.
His outward appearance was decent enough.
But inside, Yoon Seungho was still the man who agonized over whether to pour instant ramen broth down the sink or just drink it.
Escort to an aristocratic ball.
It sounded simple enough, but in game terms, I was like a background NPC who was supposed to die tomorrow suddenly standing in the center of a high-ranking event cutscene.
Something that could never happen in the original story.
Which was why the system had kindly tormented me all night.
`Preliminary Ball Counterattack Route success rate: 41%`
`Leon Cart’s basic aristocratic greeting proficiency: 46%`
`Basic waltz proficiency: 32%`
The numbers had gone up.
The problem was that all of them had gone up by an awkward amount.
I was going to an aristocratic ball with a 46% greeting and a 32% waltz.
In a normal game, this was when I would save and reconsider.
But there were no saves here.
No loading, either.
If I died, I simply died.
"Teacher."
The butler’s voice came from outside the door.
"The young lady has finished preparing."
I straightened my collar one last time.
"I’m coming."
When I opened the door, the butler examined me from head to toe.
His eyes were sharp.
In a single sweep, he assessed my attire, posture, fingertips, shoes, and even my hair.
"How do I look?"
When I asked, the butler fell silent for a moment.
Then he said,
"You have a chance of surviving."
"What a deeply moving assessment."
"It is praise."
Why did every compliment from House Rosette sound like that?
We walked down the corridor.
The mansion was quieter than usual.
The maids bustled about, but they kept their voices low.
Tonight, Eveline Rosette was attending the ball.
With a commoner teacher as her escort, no less.
Everyone in the mansion knew.
Depending on what happened tonight, the eldest daughter of House Rosette would either become an object of ridicule.
Or, for the first time, strike back at that ridicule.
When we reached the training hall, the door opened.
And Eveline Rosette emerged.
For a moment, I was at a loss for words.
Her red hair was not piled high.
Rather than its usual wild blaze, it flowed behind her shoulders in long, neat red lines.
Her dress was black.
Not pure black.
It was fabric that revealed a deep red rising from beneath when it caught the light.
A color that did not blatantly display House Rosette’s red lion, yet ensured that no one who saw it could ever forget it.
There was not much adornment.
Instead, the lines of her waist and shoulders were sharp as blades.
This was not an outfit meant to force a delinquent young lady to pretend to be demure.
It was an outfit that had sheathed a sword.
That made it look far more dangerous.
Eveline saw my gaze and lifted her chin.
"What?"
"It looks good."
"That’s not enough."
"It suits you, my lady."
Her eyes wavered ever so slightly.
Keep praise brief.
Flattery was forbidden.
I added nothing more.
Eveline looked away.
"You too, well..."
She gave me a once-over.
"You’re not unbearable to look at."
"Thank you for the high praise."
"Don’t get the wrong idea. I said you’re not unbearable to look at."
"Yes."
Beatrice quietly spoke from beside us.
"I believe it would be best if you both spoke less until you enter."
It was sound advice.
We provoked each other too much.
At the ball, that could either become an advantage or cause an incident.
Count Rosette was waiting in the entrance hall.
Instead of his red cloak, he wore formal attire.
He looked at Eveline.
For a very long time.
Eveline’s shoulders stiffened almost imperceptibly.
I saw it.
A child who has waited all her life for her father’s gaze instinctively puts up her guard when it finally comes.
Count Rosette spoke.
"Do not take a sword with you today."
Eveline’s expression immediately hardened.
"Father."
"Your teacher made that judgment."
Her eyes turned toward me.
She looked betrayed.
I nodded.
"Yes. Leave your sword behind today."
"Are you insane?"
"If you carry a sword at the ball, everyone will be waiting for you to draw it."
"So?"
"You must not give them that expectation."
Eveline’s hand moved to her waist.
Today, there was no decorative sword there.
That empty space seemed to make her even more uneasy.
"You want me to go without a sword?"
"Yes."
"What if I’m in danger?"
"I’ll be there."
Only after saying it did I realize it had been a little too much.
The butler’s gaze flew toward me.
Beatrice closed her eyes.
Count Rosette looked at me.
And Eveline...
said nothing.
She stared at me for a long while before speaking quietly.
"Fine."
It was brief.
Yet with that one word, the entrance hall fell quiet for a moment.
It was the moment Eveline Rosette chose to trust a person instead of her sword.
A system window silently appeared.
`Eveline Rosette will not carry a sword at the ball.`
`The possibility of an immediate activation of the duel-incident route has decreased.`
`Preliminary Ball Counterattack Route success rate has increased.`
`Current success rate: 45%`
It was still below half.
Still, simply leaving the sword behind had raised it by 4%.
It reminded me all over again just how dangerous Eveline had been in the original story.
Count Rosette took out a small red seal pin.
"Leon Cart."
"Yes."
"Wear this."
He handed me the seal pin.
A red lion.
The crest that guaranteed House Rosette’s backing.
It was small, but its meaning was immense.
The only shield that would allow a commoner like me to enter an aristocratic ball as an escort.
And at the same time, a target.
The moment I wore it, everyone would know.
That commoner was a man House Rosette had put forward.
"Thank you."
"This is not something to thank me for."
Count Rosette spoke in a low voice.
"That crest is not protection. It is responsibility."
"I know."
"If my daughter cries today..."
His eyes turned cold.
"You will not return comfortably either."
Eveline spoke at once.
"Father."
Her voice was sharp.
The count turned his gaze toward his daughter.
Eveline hesitated for a moment, but did not look away.
"Do not say things like that."
The entrance hall fell silent again.
Eveline Rosette had contradicted her father.
Not for her own pride.
But because of the threat directed at me.
The count’s eyes wavered ever so slightly.
I was a little surprised too.
After she spoke, Eveline looked startled herself.
But she did not back down.
Count Rosette looked at his daughter for a while, then spoke briefly.
"Fine."
He looked back at me.
"Do not make her cry."
It was much shorter than before.
But it carried more weight.
I bowed my head.
"I will not."
The moment we climbed into the carriage, Eveline looked out the window.
The mansion receded behind us.
The red rose garden slipped away, and the capital’s night streets drew closer.
The carriage was quiet.
After a long while, she spoke.
"Earlier."
"Yes."
"I didn’t say that for no reason."
"I know."
"You’ll die if you don’t."
"I know."
"I just didn’t like Father trying to scare you."
"Yes."
"You’re my escort, after all."
The moment those words left her lips, Eveline clamped her mouth shut.
There it was again.
My escort.
She stared out the window even more intently.
I did not laugh.
If I did, I might genuinely die.
Instead, I said,
"That is what you should say at the ball."
"What?"
"He is my escort. That is all you need to say."
"If someone asks?"
"Yes."
"If they ask why I brought a commoner as my escort?"
"He is my escort. Is there any need to explain further?"
Eveline’s eyes widened slightly.
One sentence.
Short, arrogant, and aristocratic.
It did not make excuses.
It did not explain.
The moment the other person asked any further, they became the rude one.
Eveline slowly tried the words on her tongue.
"He is my escort."
"Good."
"Is there any need to explain further?"
"Very good."
"...Say it once more."
"That was very good."
Eveline turned her head as if pressing down the corner of her lips.
"Fine."
The carriage entered the center of the capital.
Though it was night, the streets were bright.
Magic lamps burned in rows, and aristocratic carriages moved in the same direction.
The Imperial Academy Preliminary Ball.
Officially, it was a gathering for prospective students to familiarize themselves with one another.
In reality, it was a battlefield where houses, engagements, patronage, factions, and rumors became intertwined for the first time.
This year’s venue was the grand ballroom of House Berhardt’s detached palace.
Arsene Berhardt’s home.
The place that had invited Eveline, and the place that had planned her humiliation.
The carriage stopped before the detached palace’s main gate.
A vast marble staircase stood beyond the window.
Young nobles were ascending it one after another.
The men wore lavish formalwear, while the women were adorned like flowers.
Laughter.
Whispers.
The sound of carriage doors opening.
And behind all those sounds, the appraising gazes lying in wait.
I drew a breath.
A system window appeared.
`The Preliminary Ball event begins.`
`Primary risk factors:`
`1. Individual entrance humiliation event`
`2. Arsene Berhardt’s public provocation`
`3. Liana Bell misunderstanding event`
`4. Observer ???`
`Current Counterattack Route success rate: 45%`
Four of them.
That was a lot.
But I only had to deal with them one at a time.
That was how games worked too.
Try to stop every flag at once, and you died.
You cleared away whatever was directly in front of you so you would not step on it.
The carriage door opened.
I stepped down first.
The attendant standing before the stairs looked at my face.
His gaze traveled over my formalwear, the Rosette crest inside my cuff, and the vaguely inadequate air particular to a commoner.
His expression changed just slightly.
There it was.
The first blade.
I extended my hand.
Eveline took it and stepped down from the carriage.
At that instant, the sounds around us diminished ever so slightly.
Red hair.
A black dress.
And a commoner man at her side.
The combination was far too conspicuous.
The whispers began at once.
"Isn’t that Lady Rosette?"
"Who’s the man beside her?"
"I heard Prince Arsene’s escort is Lady Liana."
"Then that man is..."
Good.
I had expected this.
Eveline’s grip tightened.
I spoke very softly.
"Rule one."
She drew a breath.
"Do not move first."
"Rule two."
"Ask first."
"Rule three."
Eveline lifted the corner of her lips.
It was a little awkward, but it did not look like a murder threat.
"Smile last."
The attendant stepped before us.
He checked the list, then, as expected, hesitated.
"Lady Eveline of House Rosette."
"Yes."
Eveline’s voice was calm.
"And..."
The attendant looked at me.
His expression was polite, but his choice of words was not.
"The attendant may proceed to the waiting room through the rear entrance."
The whispers around us stopped.
The first attack.
Attendant.
Not escort. Attendant.
I did not know whether Arsene’s side had arranged this in advance or whether the attendant acted on his own.
But its effect was clear.
Words meant to insult Eveline, push me away, and leave her standing alone again.
Eveline’s grip tightened.
For the briefest moment, the old red mana nearly flared from her fingertips.
I lightly pressed the back of her hand with my fingers.
Not to stop her, only enough to remind her.
The handkerchief.
Let it slide past.
Ask first.
Eveline slowly exhaled.
Then she spoke.
"Just now."
The attendant froze.
Eveline slightly tilted her head.
"Did you just call my escort an attendant?"
Her voice was not loud.
Which was why it carried all the more clearly.
The young nobles around us turned their eyes toward the attendant.
His face stiffened.
"Th-the list says..."
"What exactly does the list say?"
Ask first.
Good.
Not perfect, but very good.
The attendant looked at the list again.
His hand trembled faintly.
"Leon Cart. Escort guaranteed by House Rosette."
Eveline smiled.
This time, it was quite good.
Smile last.
"Then say it again."
The attendant swallowed.
"Lady Eveline of House Rosette, and her escort, Leon Cart, are entering."
The surroundings fell silent.
The first blade had been stopped.
No.
It had been deflected.
A system window appeared.
`The individual entrance humiliation event has been nullified.`
`Eveline Rosette has applied Ball Survival Rules Two and Three in a real situation.`
`Preliminary Ball Counterattack Route success rate has increased.`
`Current success rate: 52%`
For the first time, it had crossed half.
Inside, I let out a breath.
But I could not let my guard down.
The entrance was not the end.
The ball merely began at the door.
As we climbed the stairs, Eveline spoke quietly.
"Just now."
"Yes."
"Was it good?"
"It was very good."
She kept looking ahead.
"Fine."
The corner of her lips had risen ever so slightly.
We stood before the entrance to the grand ballroom.
The doors opened.
Light poured out.
Music.
Perfume.
The sound of glasses clinking.
Dozens—no, hundreds—of gazes turned toward us.
And in the midst of those gazes.
Stood a blond young man.
Arsene Berhardt.
Eveline Rosette’s fiancé.
Beside him stood a girl with light brown hair.
A plain but neat dress.
Anxious eyes.
Liana Bell.
The original story’s heroine.
Arsene looked at us.
At me.
At Eveline.
Then, very slowly, he smiled.
The system window flickered.
`Major characters encountered.`
`Arsene Berhardt`
`Liana Bell`
`Warning: The original story’s first romance event has been altered.`
Good.
The original story had gone off course.
From this point on, the walkthrough alone would not be enough.
I did not let go of Eveline’s hand.
She did not let go either.
Under every gaze in the grand ballroom, Eveline Rosette stepped forward.
Not alone.
With me as her escort.
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