The luxurious carriage stopped outside a magnificent manor. The estate carried a classical Roman air, yet it also had numerous Christian decorations, which wasn't particularly strange in this era of shifting faiths. Among the noble ladies and young misses arriving, some were dressed in daringly open attire, while others were wrapped up tightly, looking exceedingly conservative and reserved.
It would be false to say there were no conflicts of religious ideals in this era. However, this was a gathering of nobles. Whether for the sake of the manor's owner or their own family's honor, no one would start a major conflict here. At most, they would shoot disapproving glances at each other and refrain from communication.
Aslan gently lifted the carriage curtain, looking at the queue of noble ladies outside. He lowered his voice and whispered instructions to Melusine, who was sitting across from him, "Remember, from now on, we are Mrs. Wilmar's two daughters. I am Yaslandai. Don't you dare get the name wrong."
The smile on Melusine's face hadn't disappeared since they got into the carriage. On one hand, everything in this country felt new and exciting after leaving Great Britain. On the other hand, it was because of Aslan's current attire.
When Aslan was choosing a target for his suggestion magic to temporarily assume their identity, he had been considerate. For example, the lady in question was a devout Christian, so their dresses were of a more conservative style. While he could use some magic to alter his appearance, on one hand, Aslan was not at all proficient in such magic...
On the other hand, what guy would choose to wear such revealing women's clothing and parade around in front of others?!
His appearance was similar to Artoria's, so there was no sense of incongruity when he wore a dress. Of course, when he wore men's clothes, no one would ever mistake him for a woman in disguise. At the end of the day, he was a grown man. Shouldn't he be a bit more assertive?
The carriage stopped. The coachman opened the door and respectfully placed the small step before it. The lady got out first. Looking at the manor before them, Aslan took a deep breath. Since this was unavoidable, he might as well get it over with quickly!
Aslan lifted his head slightly, the noble aura of royalty unintentionally revealing itself. No matter what, he was a member of the British royal family; how could he not have a shred of noble air? It was only because he usually had no contact with the royal family and preferred his freedom that he concealed his aura.
Today, I'll show you all what a true noble looks like!
Aslan's gaze hardened, and he stepped out of the carriage. His navy-blue dress was inlaid with black gems. He had temporarily padded his chest with bread, and since men's behinds are generally more shapely than women's, Aslan's figure was actually at its best right now. His hair had been magically lengthened and coiled on his head. His light-blue eyes held a touch of indifference, giving off a "do not approach" yet incomparably noble feeling, like a cold, beautiful, yet thorny black rose in a field of flowers.
Aslan noticed the gazes others were casting his way. While trying his best to maintain his imposing aura, he couldn't help but sigh internally. He was emulating the temperament that his teacher, Morgan, had displayed during their travels together. It seemed the effect was quite good. Aslan touched the cross hanging around his neck.
The identity of a Christian, coupled with such a standoffish temperament, should hopefully deter anyone from bothering him. Next up was to find out where the gem was kept and then properly study the metal fragments!
Aslan gave a curtsy to the noblewoman he had successfully placed under suggestion, and then prepared to act on his own. As for Melusine, he could communicate with her through the Ring of Contract. With his dragon's speed, she should be able to reach him in no time. It's not like he was a rookie who would die if someone touched him. Aslan adjusted his shawl and then secretly cast a spell on himself to lower his presence.
As more and more nobles arrived, the banquet began to get underway. No one noticed if a few people were missing, especially people the host wasn't very familiar with.
Just as the lady of the manor was chatting and showing off to her friends, a servant, with a shocked expression on his face, hurried to her side. "Madam... His Majesty... His Majesty is here!"
The noble hostess didn't react at first, subconsciously saying, "Bixia? Which Bixia?"
(Note: "Bixia" is the Chinese word for "Your Majesty," and the hostess is making a pun, as it sounds like she's asking "Which Bixia?")
A commotion erupted from the main gate. More and more people let out gasps of surprise, and then large swathes of people fell to their knees. A man with red hair, a defiant expression, wearing what looked like a ceremonial military uniform with a sword at his waist, strode in.
PS: Could the so-called formal wear of the Roman Emperor be something like a ceremonial military uniform?
This figure captured everyone's attention and naturally entered the hostess's line of sight. The noble lady covered her mouth with her hands, her eyes wide. "Your Majesty! Emperor Lucius!!"
After her surprise, the noblewoman immediately knelt on the ground. While she desperately wanted to ask why His Majesty the Emperor would come to a celebration that only invited women, upon reflection, wasn't this emperor always this willful? Both dominant and capricious. Even if she asked, she would probably just get a reply like, "I am the Emperor. I can go wherever I want, can't I?"
Lucius, without any attempt to hide it, scanned the faces of every noble girl around, his appreciation for beauty openly displayed on his face. However, he was the emperor of the entire Roman Empire and had seen all sorts of beauties. Thus, he didn't find any particular girl especially captivating.
Lucius glanced at his subordinate and shrugged his shoulders slightly. "So this is the banquet you all said would gather all the beauties of Rome? It doesn't look like much to me."
The subordinate following the emperor scratched his head, a helpless expression on his face. "Your Majesty... the Senate has been urging you many times. You are already twenty-seven and still have no Empress or heir..."
Lucius casually picked up a glass of fine wine from nearby, completely ignoring the gazes of those around him. He had no interest in the girls who were now staring at him with greedy eyes. "Those old coots can stop worrying about that matter. It depends on fate."