Mornings in the streets of Rindell were always like this.

Overcrowded, jam-packed, and filled with people on their way to work and other various destinations.

As Maxwell relaxed in the passenger seat of the carriage, he gazed outside the window, observing the moving world.

The majority of passersby moving along the cobblestone streets weren’t even trekking people.

They were carriages. Mostly fanciful, royally adorned carriages.

Was this High-Ball really that big of an event?

Maxwell had asked Olive earlier. And she’d courtly replied to him that the advancement of a noble heir to the 5th-circle was a matter that attracted the attention — both good and bad — of all figures in Jalozi.

But, of course, this was just the surface story. The main reason why all these exalted figures were showing up was that this was the first Grand Ball in ages. The last time a Ball this large had been hosted was during Emperor Kelmont’s ascension to the throne of an Emperor.

Olive said the ball lasted five days.

Maxwell turned his gaze away from the window, focusing on Olive.

The blonde lady had an expression on her beautiful face that just couldn’t be hidden, no matter how much she tried to. She was obviously brimming with excitement.

The way her fingers quivered now and then, the way she took deep breaths to calm herself...

Yes. She was excited.

The lady had dressed up quite fancily for this event. She was dressed in a lemon dress that reached her ankles, almost hiding her high heels. The lemon of the dress complemented her blond hair, which flowed over her blue eyes.

As Maxwell gazed at her, he had a smile on his lips.

That was when she met his gaze. And her eyes didn’t quiver.

She raised a brow.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

Maxwell blinked, smile fading.

’Oh,’ he thought, ’that must’ve been inappropriate.’

"Apologies," he said, chuckling, "but it’s funny, seeing you all excited like that."

Olive blinked. Then the embarrassment crept up to her face, shading her cheeks with light pink. She hid her face with her palm.

"It’s that obvious?" She asked in a low voice.

’Is it not?’ Maxwell asked the spirit calmly sitting on top of her head.

Frilo nodded eagerly, a childlike smile on its lips.

Frilo had finally woken up the very moment Maxwell finished dressing up in Forina Inn and went downstairs for breakfast.

Speaking of Forina, the woman loved pushing the idea that Maxwell and Olive would make a fine couple.

Really, she felt like an overbearing, over-bubbly aunt. The moment she saw Maxwell in his blue, noble outfit — an outfit tailored specifically for him when he was still at the Belognia Estate — standing next to the dolled-up Olive, she squealed aloud like a teenage girl, running around the room in a frenzied, overwhelming display.

Finally, with his warm smile still present, Maxwell nodded to Olive, saying:

"Yes. It’s obvious. To me, at least. I think I’m the only one who’ll notice," he adjusted his posture, crossing his legs, "I’m very observant."

His words seemed to make the young lady’s blush grow even redder.

Maxwell blinked. Wow. So much pink.

She finally removed her palms from her face, sighing. But then, she averted Maxwell’s gaze, staring outside the window.

"Why are you even coming with me again? I thought your commission ended the moment you brought me to the capital?"

Maxwell chuckled.

"I should be asking you that. You’re the one who came to knock on my door this morning."

She finally gazed at him nervously.

"That’s because you suddenly came back last night, looking all crazed and excited, and told me you’ll definitely attend the ball with me. To guide me or something along those lines. You said you were doing my father an extra favor by protecting me at the ball."

’Oh.’

Maxwell scratched his neck.

He did say something along those lines. But she was exaggerating it! He didn’t say it that way!

He sighed.

Maybe he shouldn’t have met her first thing after coming back from seeing Rita. He was still high from their short interaction.

Hell, he’d kissed her hand! There was no way he’d be sane after that, albeit for a while.

Their conversation was a short one. After Maxwell introduced himself, he spent a few more minutes trying to convince her that he wasn’t a stalker. And Rita spent those minutes opposing the idea that he wasn’t a stalker.

At the end of the day, he conceded. And accepted the title of a stalker. But he still explained what he came there to do, though. And she listened and nodded. She half understood him.

And just when they were about to have a real conversation, a guard made his way to the garden, claiming he had heard some noise there.

Maxwell had to run away like an actual criminal before the guard approached. But he promised her he’d show up at the ball today. And she seemed to believe him, because she smiled at that statement of his.

And that was exactly why he’d rushed to tell Olive that he’d be coming with her as soon as he got back to the inn.

"Apologies," Maxwell cleared his throat, "you’re right. I’m the one who brought the notion of escorting you to the ball."

Olive nodded.

"Right," she said. "So why?"

Maxwell shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

What was he going to say? Was he going to tell her that he was coming because he wanted to see his crush, who turned out to be her good friend?

Frilo, laughing on top of Olive’s head, seemed to enjoy this current predicament that Maxwell was in. The spirit’s laughter was like a flute note, a sweet rhythm.

"I just," Maxwell said, gazing outside the carriage once more, "I’m not going to attend the ball. I just want to be there."

Olive crossed her arms, raising a brow as she sat back in the carriage seat.

"O...kay."

Maxwell gazed at her.

"You didn’t go to the Coisur yesterday?"

Olive let out a sigh, rolling her eyes.

"Tell me about it. I couldn’t even get the chance to, Ms. Forina was all over me..." 𝓯𝓻𝒆𝙚𝒘𝓮𝙗𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝒍.𝙘𝓸𝙢

Ah, yes. This was a better direction to steer the conversation. Much less awkward.

Who knew that Olive was this much of a talker? Although Maxwell didn’t mind, he had lived with Eithan, after all. And so, he actually enjoyed this rant.

But still, even as he smiled, conversed and laughed with Olive, who didn’t even know that a grandmaster rank spirit was hovering just above her head and listening to her every word, Maxwell’s gaze lingered on the carriages outside the window.

And he couldn’t help but think:

Was his family also going to attend the High Ball?

***

Their carriage came to a halt at the entrance of the Silvester Estate.

"We’re here," Olive said, breathing slowly to calm her excitement, "we’re actually here!"

Maxwell, seeing the young lady beam with a bright smile, chuckled and extended his neck outside the window to observe why their carriage had stopped.

"Oh wow," Maxwell muttered, gaze still fixed ahead.

"What is it?" Olive asked.

There was a long line of carriages, all waiting to pass a large silver gate, where guards in silver uniforms performed swift, compulsory security checks.

The bustling in this place was off the charts, with countless murmurs coming from every direction. That, coupled with the heat from the morning sun and the long line of carriages, made this much less exciting for Maxwell.

He sighed.

"We’ll have to wait a while, My Lady. There’s a long line."

Maxwell gazed at the large mansions just behind the large silver gate. They were of different sizes, some larger than most. But they were all painted silver.

He brought his neck inside and rested in the carriage seat.

Olive nodded.

"Of course," she muttered. It appeared as if her own excitement had dwindled. Just a tiny bit. "It’s always like this during High Balls. And the Silvester Family is a Marquis family, so extra security measures must be taken."

Maxwell crossed his arms, a faint smile pulling at his lips.

"Quite knowledgeable in that regard, aren’t you?"

"It’s common knowledge to anyone who’d been raised in a noble family, being prepped up to make a debut in high society."

Maxwell raised a brow.

"Oh."

House Belognia wasn’t like that, as far as he remembered. Those people cared less about social functions and more about power and strength. So the moment any child turned five, they were sent to train.

Frilo floated away from Olive’s hair, leaving faint trails of azure energy in the air as its tiny wings flapped, and it circled the room.

Maxwell recognized what it was about to do.

He frowned.

’No.’

Frilo cracked a mischievous grin.

’Don’t...’

The spirit had located Rita’s direction.

And so, after spinning around the carriage for dramatic effect, the spirit launched right out the window.

Max’s scowl deepened.

’Frilo!!’