Chapter 1627: Chapter 1627

The ball was, of course, held inside the house, but as the guests had not yet all arrived, those who came early were scattered about the estate, chatting with familiar faces.

Her Majesty the Queen, her hair white with age, sat in the garden with several other elderly ladies. They were gathered around a stone table under a grape arbor, looking for all the world like ordinary country women cooling off on a summer evening.

"Oh, Jenkins has arrived~"

The Queen warmly beckoned Jenkins over and introduced him to the other ladies. They were all high-ranking nobles of the kingdom; one was even a duchess, a rarity in the country, who owned a veritable castle on the great southern plains.

Jenkins offered them a reserved greeting and introduced his companion, Alexia. Queen Isabella didn't inquire about Alexia's background but instead teased Jenkins with a smile, remarking that he always seemed to have a different lady on his arm for every ball.

She informed Jenkins that Miss Windsor would also be attending tonight and that he should save a dance for her. This was said in Alexia’s presence, and if Jenkins didn't know Alexia's temperament, he would have genuinely feared that everyone in the manor might drop dead on the spot.

After the greetings, he and the petite woman made their way into the grand hall. The orchestra had already begun to play a cheerful, rustic tune dominated by an accordion and a silver flute. A number of well-dressed men and women were already holding hands and swaying to the music. Tʜe source of this ᴄontent ɪs novel fire.net

"May I have this dance, my fair lady?"

Seeing this, Jenkins turned to Alexia, bowed slightly, and spoke. The petite woman, dressed in a long gown with a tight corset, smiled demurely behind her handkerchief.

The disgruntled-looking cat stood on the back of the sofa, watching as Jenkins and Alexia walked into the crowd of dancers with smiles on their faces. They moved close, their arms around each other's waists—Alexia was too short for the traditional posture of holding a partner by the shoulders.

The cat flopped down on the back of the sofa with a look of displeasure, observed Jenkins's clumsy movements, and narrowed its eyes, an idea forming.

When the song ended, Jenkins let out a breath, thankful he hadn't stepped on Alexia’s feet. The petite woman was an exquisite dancer; Jenkins recalled her mentioning that she, too, came from a noble family, so dancing was a fundamental skill for her.

The orchestra needed a short break before the next piece. The gentlemen and ladies chatted as they moved to the side to wait. Looking around, the space under the brilliant crystal chandeliers was filled with beautiful girls in gowns and men in formal wear of all colors. By comparison, Jenkins's suit felt a bit too stuffy.

"We still have some time. Shall we dance again in a moment?"

Jenkins pulled out his pocket watch to check the time. Miss Windsor and the Stuarts would likely arrive right on schedule, so there was no need to worry about them yet.

"Of course. That way, you can avoid all the tiresome people trying to strike up a conversation," the petite woman said with understanding. They started toward the sofa they had claimed, intending to rest for a moment. But they had barely taken a step when a voice spoke from behind them:

"Beautiful lady, may I have the honor of this dance?"

The question was directed at Alexia. Jenkins turned his head to see a young man in a red formal suit with an ostentatious white lace frill at his chest. He wore boots instead of leather shoes. He was likely a few years older than Jenkins and was rather handsome, though by the aesthetic standards of the era, the red on his lips was a bit heavy. Still, he cut a striking figure.

Alexia said nothing, her face wearing its usual serene and tranquil expression. Jenkins pursed his lips, reminding himself that this was a public occasion and he had to be civilized.

"If you've got the nerve, ask her again."

He felt his actions were justified. He and Alexia were still holding hands; if the man wasn't partially blind, he was clearly doing this on purpose.

"I would like to invite this lovely lady for a dance."

The young man repeated loudly, placing his left hand on his chest and bowing slightly as he extended his right hand to Alexia. It was then that Jenkins finally remembered who this was. Miss Windsor had told him about this man—another royal with a claim to the throne, his place in the line of succession somewhere past tenth. His surname, he thought, was Vicdom.

"I'm sorry, but I don't wish to dance with anyone else," Alexia stated.

"What a terrible shame," the young Vicdom said. He straightened up with a smile and shot a provocative glance at Jenkins.

"Viscount Williamette, this is our first time meeting. Do I need to introduce myself?" he asked with a smile, extending his hand to Jenkins.

Jenkins swiftly reached out and grasped it, his own face fixed in a matching smile. With a twitch of his lips, he squeezed. Beside him, Alexia heard the faint, almost inaudible crack of bone.

"I know who you are, Viscount Vicdom. The great landowner in Yorkshire."

The Vicdom family had inherited a fortune and was renowned for its wealth and nobility in Yorkshire. Jenkins deliberately raised his voice as he spoke, masking the groan that escaped the man's lips as the initial numbness gave way to searing pain.

"You'd best see a doctor about that," Jenkins advised, releasing his grip and patting the man on the back. Though the pat was of ordinary strength, Viscount Vicdom flinched as if startled. His face was pale and his features twitched in agony as he looked at Jenkins, instinctively shuffling away.

"I wasn't born a nobleman, you see. I grew up doing rough work, so my grip can be a bit strong," Jenkins explained, his tone perfectly calm. But Alexia, who knew him well, could tell he was genuinely furious.

"Just you wait," Viscount Vicdom hissed, then turned to leave. But after only a few steps, he slipped near a lady in a black-and-white gossamer gown. His departure had been so hasty that the fall sent him sliding a considerable distance across the polished floor, finally coming to a stop before a group of young ladies who had just entered the hall.

The girls shrieked, clutching their skirts as they scrambled back. The commotion drew a crowd, and the entrance suddenly became the center of attention.

"You can't kill him, you know. Everyone would suspect you. For a moment there, you looked just like a little boy afraid someone was going to steal his candy..." Alexia remarked with a light chuckle.

"A little boy... No, I wouldn't kill anyone. How could I do such a thing? And am I really that petty?" Jenkins asked.

"Of course you are," the petite woman replied with absolute certainty.