The event is over now, only I am rhymed in the great hall.

I feel the silence indulge my ears and the scent of arrogance failed to dance with my nostrils.

It was a busy and tumultuous evening, but I took a first step towards achieving my goal.

If only that arrogant creature hadn't been there, I could have gained an additional advantage.

I'm talking about the same person which gaze has been nagging me all evening.

This Lady represents all that most contempt in society: unjustified haughtiness, social status earned with incompetence and total contempt for the human race, which is why she holds the role in which she is assigned.

She's in fact one of the most intimate and trusted advisors of the Regnants, and one of the main reasons for my demotion.

Lowest adviser, she has led Zoor's kingdom in great battles, which have only increased her fame and consequently the social prestige in our kingdom.

You may be wondering why I feel so much resentment towards this figure.

Well, she was the initiator of my downgrading and exposing my thoughts to the Regnant Firk.

Like the notes of the Habanere, my spirit dances to a brisk pace and devours my frustration to the rhythm of anger. That slimy Lady Noir (that is her name), trusted adviser to Regnats, eye and heart of her instincts, was once again responsible for my estrangement.

I had already informed you that I was downgraded, but the fact that her gaze did not abandon me for a second in such a huge event, where all my energies are gone to managing this occasion, was a defeat in my recovery plan.

It was impossible to win over the Regnants and even more difficult to manage the entire situation.

A latent rage is animating my spirit, but I have to tame it, I cannot afford to be overcome, not yet at least, not until I am downgraded.

But let's try to give you more details about my story.

Let me introduce myself again: My name is Baron and I belong to the highest class in the kingdom of Zoor, or rather I belonged.

Don't get me wrong, it's not a class you belong to by birth, but you get there with effort and a lot of determination and I am not humble in telling you that I represented the creme du la creme, an expert in grace and elegance, erudite of an exceptional level.

You may be wondering how a specimen like myself found himself downgraded and forced to restrain his instincts to avoid further defeat.

Well, my forked tongue combined with my bravado were the cause of my downfall.

In the previous lines I have highlighted the figure of Lady Noir, a slimy female who is highly disparaging towards her neighbor: well, the logical consequence of two people like us in the encounter was the clash, due to my real contempt for her which however led to my downgrading.

Lady Noir represents everything I hate most in this society, being with a sharp tongue, always ready to judge anyone and without any qualms about the feelings of others. Add to us an always positive result, in which everything in one's existence progresses as planned by her and you will understand well the disgust that came out in my person.

Her decisive weapon in our confrontation was her special friendship with Regnats Heil, due to the subtle flattering art of Noir, who, managing to move finely in the ego of the Regnant, had woven a strong and real bond.

And it is in my observation of this particular situation that Noir has found a way to discredit my image, further strengthening her already perfect social connection with Regnats.

The episode is as trivial as it is decisive.

Fur Elise's enotechnics resound in my mind, celebrating my debacle, during the reception of the series preceding the great party in honor of Lady Noir ovviemnt.

As you can imagine, my nerves were already tense given the event and its protagonist, but I tried to be indifferent, to avoid unpleasant situations. However, Lady Noir well knew how to wallow in these emotional criticalities and with the usual affable act, in the middle of the conversation, she began with her usual innuendo towards me, using the method she best mastered, that is humiliation in grouping's moments, loading the intended victim of the pedantic looks of those present, which obviously matched for this lady.

Clearly my nerves had not tried to move away from that attack, but at the end of their patience they had responded to the provocation, consequently generating a heated confrontation with the opponent.

It goes without saying that this further increases the attention of the spectators, generating the wrath of the Regnants.

In fact, you must know that Zoor and the Regnants do not tolerate moments of tension during events, since they impose and apply a certain almost obsequious formality in ceremonies, and consequently do not receive those who try in any way to damage these moments.

Wait, I heard a noise near the door.