Chapter 96

The melodious music floated above the ballroom. The prince held those pale,
slightly cool hands, his heart feeling as if it were suspended in midair. His
lips curled into an uncontrollable smile, and his eyes focused intently on the
priest. His tall figure completely enveloped the priest, shielding him from the
prying eyes of others during their twirl, making sure no one noticed the oddity
in those green eyes.

The prince was so focused on keeping the priest hidden that he failed to
realize how apparent the tenderness and affection on his face were.

As the music began, men and women joined in, unable to contain their curious
glances, constantly peeking at the prince and the woman in his arms.

This woman was completely unfamiliar to everyone.

She appeared very tall, her long black dress accentuating her elegant,
slender figure with distinct lines. The curve of her waist was stunningly
beautiful. When people passed by her, they could catch a faint scent that
didn’t resemble any perfume, a scent so fleeting it left them itching with
curiosity.

“Everyone is watching you,” the prince whispered in the priest’s
ear, “Do you think they can recognize you, dear priest?”

The prince’s tone carried a mischievous excitement. He had always had this
restless side to him, which only grew stronger after meeting the priest,
drawing him increasingly towards him, even as the more frantic parts of his
nature emerged.

The priest’s lips curled into a slight smile. He wore a hint of lipstick
with a rose scent and responded to the prince cheek-to-cheek, “I guess
they’re too busy being jealous of you to speculate on who I am.”

The prince pulled the priest closer, his lips brushing against the priest’s
ear in an openly intimate gesture that made onlookers blush and their hearts
race. “Don’t tease me. I know you look enchanting today.”

The priest smiled and gently kissed the prince’s cheek.

This action stunned all the peepers. They couldn’t believe there existed
such a bold noblewoman in the capital, causing everyone to stumble in their
dance steps and the ballroom to fill with apologies and exclamations.

Amidst the chaos, the priest laughed softly in the prince’s ear, and the
prince laughed too.

The musicians reached the part where partners were to be exchanged. In the
ensuing confusion, gentlemen embraced their partners and swapped with nearby
gentlemen, the flying skirts forming a sea of satin in the ballroom. However,
the prince rebelliously clung to his partner, avoiding the exchange, leaving
those around him at a loss, standing bewildered as he whisked his lady away.

The prince twirled with the priest towards a corner, under the dazzling
light of the crystal chandelier. The snow-white rose in the priest’s golden
hair trembled slightly. The prince pressed his forehead against the priest’s,
his lips curving into a joyful smile. If the priest could see, he would realize
how wholeheartedly the prince loved him at that moment.

“Eugene,” the prince murmured, “marry me.”

Naturally, these words slipped out, as if he had rehearsed them a thousand
times in his heart.

The priest’s breath hitched slightly, then warmed the prince’s face,
“Impossible.”

“Why?”

“Remember, it was you who submitted to me, kneeled before me, and
pledged your faith to me.”

The prince continued to smile, “Don’t you see that asking you to marry
me is a sign of my submission?”

The music was beautiful and uplifting. Sweat formed a thin layer on his
back, and the priest’s hand was tightly held by the prince.

Naturals have a very blurred sense of gender boundaries, their desires are
minimal, and the differences between men and women hardly exist for them.

For naturals, it didn’t matter whether they wore men’s or women’s clothes.

He was rather surprised that the prince could so accurately capture that
evil streak in his psychology.

How could he not be delighted by committing such a prank in front of
everyone? How could he pass up this opportunity? Moreover, it coincided with
his own schemes, a win-win situation he was naturally willing to embrace.

But what good would marriage do him?

Uninteresting things were not worth considering, and strangely enough, he
felt a hint of fear.

Though he didn’t want to admit it, he never lied to himself.

He felt flustered by Randes’ proposal.

“I love you,” the prince whispered, so only the two of them could
hear. “I have never loved anyone before. You are the first person to make
me fall in love. At first, my love for you scared me because I was a proud
person. I hate others controlling my feelings, so I used my arrogance to
suppress my feelings of love. I deceived myself into thinking it was just a
physical desire for you, which is why I tried to coerce you in that way. I am
not trying to justify myself. What I did was absolutely wrong, and I deserve
any punishment you deem fit.”

“I just want to make it clear to you that I have always loved you. That
love is sincere and not frivolous. Proposing to you was also a very serious
decision for me.”

“This ball was organized for you. Other than proposing to you, I have
no other intentions.”

The prince’s confession was so earnest, filled with passion and courage. He
was unafraid of being hurt. He just wanted to honestly express all his
feelings, believing that honesty could be met with honesty. He needed to show
his love first before he could hope for a response from the priest.

“But I have already said,” the priest’s tone remained cold,
“I do not love you.”

They had already reached a corner, but even there, all eyes were still on
them.

The dark curtains completely hid the mysterious lady, and the prince’s
figure was half-hidden as well. They saw the two of them whispering closely,
their naked affection fully evident. Everyone present understood that this must
be the prince’s true love. No one else could win the prince’s heart except this
dark-clad beauty.

“Then,” the prince’s voice was still steady and fervent, his chest
heaving slightly from dancing, “what must I do to earn your love?”

The priest leaned against the window, his chest rising and falling gently,
the ribbon around his neck moving up and down with his breath. “You can
never obtain it.”

How could something that doesn’t exist be obtained?

The atmosphere was tense. The prince released his grip on the priest’s hand.
The priest’s palm was slightly sweaty. When the prince’s hot hand let go, he
exhaled lightly, but then the prince’s hand gripped his waist firmly.

The prince kissed him, deeply, hidden by the curtains.

“Then I will keep trying, like Sisyphus, pushing that boulder every
day,” the prince said, gazing into the priest’s blind, hollow green eyes,
“until I run out of time.”

The priest squinted slightly, “Why? Is my love worth all this to
you?”

“Of course.”

“Even if you can never get it.”

“Even if I can never get it.”

Having lived through two worlds, a natural person understood that for
non-natural people, love, hatred, and emotions, which seemed useless to
naturals, held immense significance for them.

But why? A natural person might even admit to himself that he has grown
closer to non-naturals. He would recall the sunset in the desert, the bonfires
in the city, the vast yellow sands… even the two figures falling with him.
Yet, he still couldn’t understand why these things were so important.

They could suffer greatly from it or be overjoyed because of it.

Could such emotionally driven individuals really be considered evolved?

The priest placed his hand on the prince’s injured cheek and said, “If
you remain this stubborn, Sisyphus’ fate will be yours.”

“His persistence will be my persistence.”

Their private conversation had gone on too long, sparking much discussion
among the guests. The prince didn’t want the priest’s identity to be exposed.
He wrapped his arm around the priest’s waist, trying to leave the ballroom. He
would rather find another place to dance freely with the priest and declare his
love.

The priest remained silent, seemingly deep in thought. He bowed his head,
the black feather mask on his face lowering like a veil. The prince looked at
him, feeling that his heart could be moved countless times in a single day by
this person. It was as if a sleeping soul had awakened, finding a new soul so
perfectly matched with his own that he never wanted to let go.

Just then, a sudden turn of events!

“Bang—”

A gunshot shattered the melodic music of the ball!

The shooter had excellent aim, hitting the crystal chandelier in the center
of the ballroom. The massive chandelier came crashing down, sending everyone
screaming and scattering in all directions.

The moment the shot was fired, the prince immediately shielded the priest
behind him while reaching for the gun at his waist. He shouted loudly,
“Guards—”

The vigilant captain of the guards rushed in with his men, guns drawn,
running to the prince’s side. “Randes?!” he exclaimed upon seeing the
prince unharmed, protecting a tall woman. His heart finally settled; he had
feared an assassination attempt on Randes when he heard the gunshot.

The chandelier smashed to the ground, darkening the entire ballroom
significantly. The terrified nobles huddled against the walls and under tables.

The guards filled the ballroom, guns at the ready, scanning the surroundings
to locate the audacious shooter who dared to fire within the palace.

The assailant didn’t wait to be found; he revealed himself.

On the second floor of the ballroom, a group of monks had been enjoying food
and drink. They had been relaxed, even somewhat indulgent, not expecting one of
their own to suddenly draw a gun.

It all happened in an instant. The monks, frightened, ducked under their
chairs. In the chaos, Brunier recognized the man—it was Father Anthony!

Even more terrifying, Anthony had somehow taken a hostage!

Sharman, biting his lip to suppress his fear, was being held hostage. The
gunman pressed the hot barrel of the fired gun against Sharman’s head, causing
him to cry out in pain. He wanted to shout that this wasn’t part of the plan,
but under the scrutiny of all present, he could only endure.

“Look at these frightened little lambs,” Anthony sneered, pushing
the crown prince forward. Sharman’s stomach hit the railing, causing him to
shudder with fear. “Hey, Prince Aus, look here. Your brother is in my
hands. Do you want to see what color his brains are?”

The guards aimed their guns at the assailant on the upper floor, but the man
hid behind a large bearded monk, laughing arrogantly as he continued his
shocking speech. “You wretched sinner, the murderer of Archbishop
Hebra—”