From a distance, he caught sight of Evandria sitting entirely alone. She looked profoundly bored — clearly uncomfortable in a place like this. He did not understand why she had insisted on coming here then.

Before he could dwell on it, a loud voice echoed from behind him. “Lady Ivy, where are you going? Please, wait!”

Ivy… Elion noted internally.

Ivy was famous for her detective work and also pretty famous for not talking to anyone. No matter what, she never took requests unless she felt like it. She preferred to work in complete isolation, avoiding high-society networking whenever possible. And that was exactly why she was currently dodging everyone at the event.

Elion glanced at Evandria one last time. But instead of walking over to her, he subtly turned toward the grand staircase, scanning the upper levels as if searching for someone. He ascended to the third floor, his steps silent as he moved through the dimly lit, vacant hallway.

“…Master Elion?”

A voice called out from the shadows.

It was Ivy, leaning casually against a windowsill. She was the very person he was looking for.

For people, she worked as a detective, but in truth, she worked for Elion, handling things only he trusted her with. And she was also the one who had obtained the documents sealed with House Bloomward’s seal for him.

“What are you doing here? I didn’t know you liked parties,” Ivy asked with wide eyes.

Elion did not reply. He just looked at her.

Her short black hair, reaching just to her shoulders, fluttered slightly in the breeze.

“Don’t tell me you came here to meet me?” Ivy said playfully, touching her cheek with one finger.

“I’m not in the mood for jokes,” Elion said.

“Don’t be so serious all the time,” Ivy sighed, waving her hand dismissively.

“Ivy… about the documents you gave me. I found out that the person who gave them to Rohkan was someone from House Bloomward’s dark party,” Elion said.

“Oh… so that’s why you came here.” She paused. “And here I thought… Anyways, you want me to find that person, right?”

“Yes. No matter what.”

“Understood. Consider it done. I’ll dig them out.” Ivy straightened up, then added casually, “Oh, by the way, your wife is truly beautiful. I saw her earlier. She’s sitting all by herself down there.”

Then, Ivy leaned slightly closer with a teasing smile. “And yet here you are, talking to another girl.”

Elion gave her a small glare. “Don’t talk like that. It doesn't suit you.”

“Oh, please. You’re the only one I can talk like this with,” Ivy said, pouting. “Everyone else just talks nonsense. They always try to get something out of others. That’s why I don’t talk to anyone.”

“I’m leaving,” Elion said, turning away.

He had only taken a few steps down the corridor when Ivy’s voice rang out behind him, full of amusement.

“Fine, fine! Don’t worry about the investigation. I’m on it! Take care. And it looks like you’re finally heading back to your beautiful wife. Tell her I said hello!”

Elion ignored her shouting and kept walking.

He entered the main hall again and began descending the stairs.

His eyes naturally sought out the quiet corner where he had left Evandria, but his posture immediately stiffened. Someone was standing right in front of her, talking to her.

Elion could only see the man’s back and the distinct shade of his hair, but he recognized him instantly. The man had green hair and stood noticeably shorter than Elion.

He knew him well.

Raphel.

Raphel von Garal Reveric. He was an old classmate of Elion’s from their academy days. Raphel had spent years consumed by bitter envy toward him. No matter how hard he tried or what schemes he devised, he had never once managed to surpass Elion.

***

A while earlier…

I’m bored. Where did Elion go?

Evandria thought, watching the nobles laugh and chatter among themselves, feeling a little out of place. She remained seated alone, quietly observing the lively crowd.

I understand he didn’t want to come here… but that doesn’t mean he can just leave me alone here like this. Now what am I supposed to do?

It had been a considerable amount of time since Elion had detached himself from the circle of nobles, and she still had not seen him.

She was thinking about that when someone approached her.

“Aren’t you Elion’s wife?” he asked.

Evandria looked up, adjusting her expression into a polite but carefully guarded mask. “Yes, I am,” she replied, scanning the stranger.

“My name is Raphel. I was Elion’s classmate,” the green-haired man introduced himself, flashing a broad, overly enthusiastic smile that did not quite reach his eyes.

“Oh… my name is Evandria.”

“Did you come alone, Lady Evandria?” Raphel inquired, even though he had already seen her arriving with Elion as they entered the hall. “Where’s Elion? Don’t tell me he didn’t come with his wife?” He let out a condescending chuckle.

“No, he came with me. He just went to handle some work,” Evandria answered smoothly in a firm voice.

No matter how frustrated she was internally, she knew she could never expose the cracks in their arrangement to an outsider. It did not matter how distant, cold, or infuriating Elion acted behind closed doors. After all, they were legally husband and wife, and she understood the weight of her role all too well.