While I sat back with a drink made by the Leonamon, the sweet burn sliding down my throat, I overheard some gossip that grabbed my attention.
“I heard the owner of the Leonamon is coming here, along with his co-owner. Isn’t that something?” one of the women said, her voice dripping with intrigue. She was dressed to impress, her outfit almost glowing under the lights, detailed with flowery embroidery that shimmered every time she moved.
“I know, right?” another chimed in, her excitement barely contained. “It’s one thing for the co-owner to show up, but the real owner? He’s kept his identity a secret for so long. Hearing he’s coming out of the shadows is huge. Right, Kayla?”
“Yeah, whatever. He’s probably just some wrinkled old man,” Kayla muttered, glancing up from her phone. Her clothes were even fancier, like she was trying to one-up the others. She sat with her legs crossed, but her mood made it obvious she didn’t care to be part of the conversation.
“Oh, come on, don’t jinx it!” the first one laughed, her eyes flashing mischievously. “You never know—he could be hot! And, honestly, I wouldn’t mind if he’s an old man. Older guys love women half, or even a third, their age. It’s always the same story.” She leaned in, a sly grin spreading on her face. “I’d jump on the spot to get a rich old man with fat stacks of cash. And, let’s be real, with how old he probably is, it wouldn’t take long for him to kick the bucket and leave all that money behind.”
“You’re so bad,” teased the other woman, giving her a playful nudge, their laughter filling the space between them.
Kayla, though, remained glued to her phone, barely even glancing up.
“Hey, Kayla! Isn’t this supposed to be a celebration? You’re killing the vibe. What’s with you staring at your phone like that?” the first woman asked.
“Nothing. Sirches isn’t answering my texts. He was supposed to be here already, but he’s not, and he’s not replying.”
“You mean your current boyfriend? The one who can’t even fuck you right?” the second woman teased with a sly smirk, her giggle cutting through the air.
“Don’t say it like that. Yeah, I’m always left unsatisfied when we have sex, but the guy’s loaded. And with him being the heir to a viscount title, I’m basically guaranteed to be his wife and still be part of a noble family. My brother’s the one inheriting our family’s viscount title, so I’d be left out anyway. I’d probably just end up as some knight in the family, and I’m not about that life. Besides, his family owns the coal mines in the south, so my future’s set. Unlike you, my plan is realistic—and I’m not chasing after some old man.”
The second woman rolled her eyes, shifting in her seat with a bored expression. “Ugh, I’d still rather have some old man fuck me senseless than be stuck with a tiny, useless dick that doesn’t do shit.”
It was getting to the point where I was hearing things I really didn’t want to. Their conversation was turning into something I’d rather not be a part of, so I walked away from them.
“By the way, you heard, right? Charlotte’s coming with Professor Sesillian,” the first one continued, her voice lowering but still loud enough to catch.
I froze mid-step. Before I could get any farther away, their next words hit my ears.
“Yeah. That bitch still thinks she’s a noble, doesn’t she? Clinging to that fantasy, even though her family’s been stripped of their status ages ago. What a joke.”
The conversation stirred something in me. Maybe Leon was right all along. Maybe Charlotte Sierra was just a pawn in Sesillian’s larger game, and that’s why she was going to show up at this party. My thoughts swirled with suspicion as I considered the implications.
Then, as if summoned by my thoughts, Professor Sesillian Quinn arrived, his presence impossible to ignore. In noble circles, he was a legend—famous for his sharp mind, his undeniable charisma, and the way he commanded attention. Walking beside him was Charlotte Sierra, draped in an elegant dress that clung to her in all the right places, making her look like the embodiment of a noblewoman. Her posture was flawless, her expression calm, almost serene, like the harsh realities of her life hadn’t touched her at all. She still looked like the daughter of a noble, untouched by hardship.
“Why the hell is Sierra’s daughter here? I thought this party was for actual nobles,” someone nearby muttered, their tone sharp and judgmental.
“The Sierra family isn’t even part of the nobility anymore,” another voice replied, equally condescending. “Her mother crawled back to her old family, and her father’s dead. Does she really think she can restore her family’s name by pulling a stunt like this?”
“No chance. If it were that easy, they wouldn’t have lost their title in the first place. And what’s with Quinn’s eldest son walking in with her?”
The whispers spread like wildfire, the murmurs growing louder, the judgment and curiosity rippling through the crowd. People stared, some trying to piece together what was happening, others just enjoying the spectacle of it all.
Watching Sesillian stride in, completely unbothered by the noise around him, was unsettling. It was like he didn’t give a damn about the rumors or the stares. His calmness, his absolute indifference, sent a chill through me.
“It’s almost disturbing how unfazed Sesillian is,” I muttered under my breath. “It’s like he’s not even concerned about the backlash, or the fact that people are talking shit right in front of him.”
But then, someone said, “Oh, so that’s why, huh? Well, I guess that changes things. Makes sense now.”
A sudden chill ran down my spine, unlike anything I’d ever felt before. What the hell just happened? One second, everyone was all riled up about Charlotte Sierra being here, and the next, they’d done a complete 180—talking like it wasn’t a big deal at all. Nobles don’t just let things slide, especially when someone without noble blood shows up at an event like this. Their egos are too damn big for that. And yet, with just a few words, Sesillian had made them all back down, like it wasn’t even worth getting pissed about.
“Sesillian must’ve used his skill on them,” I muttered, piecing it together.
His skill… that ability of his—it lets him charm people, make them believe whatever he wants them to believe. And now that I’m thinking about it, it’s pretty much just brainwashing, plain and simple.
