It Seems Like The Infamous Trash Can is Right Here! - Chapter 78
I wondered if my dress exposed too much, but glancing around, it wasn’t exactly out of place.
There were women here wearing dresses so deeply cut at the back their b******s nearly showed, or with slits so high their underwear could peek out.
“They’re staring because we’ve just arrived. Just endure it a little longer.”
“…Do you really think so?”
“Of course.”
Honestly, I wasn’t some great beauty, and with my face covered, what could they possibly be staring at? They’d soon lose interest and return to enjoying the ball.
“Anyway, it’s awfully dark in here. And there are more people than I expected. Finding someone won’t be easy.”
“If the Count shares my sentiments, we’ll find each other quickly. He’ll want to get his sister out of here, even if he has to risk danger.”
We stuck as close as we could to the edges of the ballroom.
If we got separated in this dim, crowded place, we might be swept away somewhere entirely.
At least there was a bit more room near the walls, though we still had to squeeze past people occasionally.
A few times someone attempted to approach and talk to me, but Lionel blocked them each time like an impregnable fortress, driving them away with a chilling glare.
We had circled about half the ballroom when…
“Oh? Well, look who’s here.”
A red-haired man wearing a silver mask lavishly adorned with jewels suddenly appeared before us.
I could recognize him immediately—so easily that the mask seemed almost meaningless.
“Dantère.”
Lionel likewise spoke his name without a moment’s hesitation. The problem was that Dantère also identified Lionel at a glance.
“Am I seeing things? You are attending a masquerade ball that I’m hosting—could there be anything more delightful? And accompanied by such a lovely lady, no less.”
Dantère appeared genuinely pleased.
“Did you come because of Vivian?”
I worried he might pester us with questions, but thankfully, Dantère himself provided the perfect excuse.
“I heard you took her with you. Where’s my sister?”
“As it happens, I was also looking for Vivian. She disappeared while I stepped away for a moment. I shouldn’t have left her alone.”
With a troubled expression, Dantère scanned the dim interior.
“There’s a place upstairs where we can overlook the whole ballroom. Care to join me?”
Lionel and I glanced briefly at each other.
“Alright.”
There was no reason to decline his offer, though the person we sought wasn’t Vivian.
Following Dantère, who walked ahead, we exited through a curtained door.
It led to a staircase heading upward, away from the direction of the guest lounges.
“In here.”
The room he guided us into had an entire wall made of glass, allowing us, as promised, a clear view of the ballroom below.
From downstairs, I would never have guessed such a place existed. It probably appeared from there as nothing more than a wall or pillar.
“Hmmm…. No sign of her. Could she have stepped onto a terrace?”
“How irresponsible.”
“As the host, I had no choice.”
Dantère shrugged in response to Lionel’s rebuke.
“I suppose I’d better search outside.”
“If you find Vivian, tell her to go home immediately.”
“Hmm… I’ll see what I can do.”
After Dantère left, giving a vague reply, I pressed myself against the glass, carefully scanning below for any sign of my brother.
Lionel stood by my side, quietly gazing downward as well.
“Do you think the Marquis recognized me?”
“Hard to say. He’s devious enough to pretend otherwise intentionally.”
“Why would he do that?”
“To make you lower your guard before snatching you away.”
Thinking he was joking, I glanced at him, but again Lionel’s expression held no hint of humor. He remained impassively staring down into the ballroom until sensing my gaze, when he turned his head toward me.
Just then, there was a sudden knock.
“I’ve brought food and drinks by my master’s orders.”
It seemed Dantère had sent a servant up.
Just as I was about to absentmindedly invite him in, Lionel shook his head slightly, eyes narrowing sharply.
Pressing his index finger to his lips, he whispered, “Shh,” before silently drawing the thin blade from his belt.
