Read Novel Full Chapter 679: Banquet [2]
Chapter 679: Banquet [2]
A short while later, a carriage rolled to a smooth stop before the grand palace hall. Lanterns shaped like floating stars drifted in the air, illuminating the marble steps leading to the entrance.
Michael stepped out first, offering his hand to Arianne. She accepted with practiced grace, and together they walked toward the towering golden doors as attendants bowed deeply.
The moment the doors opened, a wave of warm light, soft music, and refined perfume washed over them.
Yet the instant Michael stepped inside, his expression barely shifted—but internally, he felt suffocated.
Everything looked elegant. The chandeliers, the polished floors, the expensive gowns, the noble families gathered in circles of influence.
But beneath the beauty, he sensed it.
Superficiality.
Layers and layers of it.
He watched nobles greet each other with wide smiles that never touched their eyes. Laughter that sounded rehearsed. Compliments that were empty air. Conversations filled only with posturing and politics.
It all felt so fake that even the polite smiles looked distorted.
Michael slowed slightly, unable to hide the faint crease in his brows.
Arianne noticed.
"Is something wrong?" she whispered.
Michael shook his head lightly.
"Nothing. Just... taking in the atmosphere."
He kept his voice calm, but inwardly, he was already growing tired of the charade around him.
Compared to the raw, brutal honesty of Hell—even with demons trying to tear each other apart—this hall felt far more suffocating.
At least demons did not pretend.
A passing noblewoman gave Arianne a practiced smile before turning to Michael with a far too interested gaze.
Michael returned a polite nod.
Arianne leaned closer, whispering, "Welcome to the royal capital’s high society."
Michael exhaled quietly.
"Unfortunately."
Together, they stepped deeper into the banquet hall, all eyes slowly turning their way.
As they walked, Arianne’s eyes flicked around the hall, recognizing faces Michael did not.
After a moment, she leaned slightly toward him.
"Sir Mic," she said softly, "I need to go greet a few people. Some are my father’s old friends, and it would be rude not to say hello."
Michael nodded. "Do what you need to."
Arianne smiled, relieved he understood.
"I won’t take long," she promised. Then, with a subtle tug on his arm, she guided him toward a quieter corner of the hall.
There, an elegant refreshment table stretched out—crystal glasses neatly arranged beside trays of sparkling drinks, silver plates stacked next to dishes of roasted meats, fruits, and delicacies only nobles could afford.
"You can stay here for a bit," Arianne said, gesturing gently to the table. "Serve yourself whatever you like. No one will bother you here."
Michael glanced at the setup.
Food, drinks, a bit of peace.
Not bad.
"I’ll be back soon," Arianne said. "Don’t disappear."
"I’ll stay here."
Arianne nodded once more and then drifted away gracefully, her presence quickly swallowed by the shifting clusters of nobles.
Left alone, Michael reached for a plate and added a mix of food inside and without bothering about his surroundings, started to enjoy the food.
As Michael quietly enjoyed the moment of silence he’d been gifted, savoring the rare peace of a hall filled with noise, a soft voice drifted from his left.
"...Sir Mic?"
His hand paused mid-reach.
That voice was familiar.
He turned his head, scanning the space beside him—and his eyes widened ever so slightly.
Standing only a few steps away, looking just as surprised as he felt, was a face he had not seen in a very long time.
The first noble lady he had ever met in the Land of Origin.
Seria Golden.
The youngest daughter of the Golden Family—the family whose residence he had stayed in for a short while when waiting to meet Mage Lian.
Her hair was styled in soft curls tonight, her dress a pale cream embroidered with delicate gold threads that caught the light beautifully. She looked older in a subtle way—not in age, but in poise. More refined, more composed than the bright, curious girl he remembered.
Yet her eyes...
Those still held the same spark.
"Sir Mic... it really is you," Seria said, a slow smile forming on her lips.
Michael blinked once, the memory of the Golden estate flickering through his mind.
"Lady Seria," he said calmly. "It has been a while."
Her smile widened, a mix of surprise and genuine warmth.
"I didn’t expect to see you here," she said softly. Then her gaze swept over him again, slower this time. "And... you look very different from before. The suit suits you incredibly well."
Michael gave a polite nod.
"Thank you. You look fine yourself."
"Seria raised an eyebrow, lips tugging upward.
"It’s good to see you again," Michael said simply. "I didn’t know I’d meet you here."
Her eyes sharpened instantly.
"Oh?" she said, a spark of mock offense lighting up her face. "Why? Did you think someone like me doesn’t belong in a place like this?"
Michael paused.
Then, slowly, he gave her a look that was half-exasperated, half-amused.
"I never said that."
"But you thought it," Seria shot back, chin lifting in the same spirited way he remembered from their first meeting. "You hesitated before answering."
"That’s because you’re putting words in my mouth," Michael replied calmly.
Seria clicked her tongue softly.
But her expression brightened again almost immediately. She lifted her chin with exaggerated elegance, placing a hand on her hip in a way that was clearly meant to look dignified but ended up looking more like a puffed-up cat trying to act regal.
"Well," she declared, "I might not be as popular as some of the noble ladies here tonight... but I do have a standing."
Michael stared at her for a heartbeat.
Seria held the pose, head lifted proudly, chest forward, trying so hard to look imposing that even the golden embroidery on her dress seemed to stand straighter with her.
It was—despite her best efforts—unmistakably adorable.
A quiet laugh escaped Michael before he could stop it.
Seria’s eyes widened.
"What? What is that look? Why are you smiling like that?"