In the banquet hall, now thick with a carefully cultivated atmosphere,
the elegant harmony of a violin and piano drifted through the air.
The melody was refined, restrained—music meant not for everyone, but for the empire's most influential high nobles.
And yet, here I was.
"Look over there. Isn't that the servant from earlier?"
"I heard he's from a mere baron's family. How shameless—doesn't he know his place?"
Their voices were low, but not low enough.
They weren't trying to hide their disdain. They wanted it heard.
After all, someone like me wasn't meant to stand beneath chandeliers of crystal and gold.
It was forbidden—for a servant.
"Servant. Come here."
The command was curt, heavy with authority.
Had he noticed the glances gathering around me?
I turned to see a soldier approaching, clad head to toe in armor that gleamed like polished sunlight.
'That color…'
Gold.
'He's not ordinary military. A royal guard.'
