Chapter 238: A beautiful blue

The azure dress shimmered softly beneath the lights.

Its pale blue fabric had a glossy quality to it, catching every bit of light whenever Blake moved.

White accents traced along the fabric, giving the entire dress an elegant, almost dreamlike appearance.

The upper portion was decorated with delicate silver-like embellishments that reflected the light without making the outfit look excessively bright.

A blue mask covered his eyes, completing the disguise.

Blake stared at himself in the mirror one last time.

’This is ridiculous.’

He adjusted the mask.

’But I mean, it actually looks good.’

He left the hotel and entered the waiting car. The driver opened the door for him.

"Good evening, Miss."

"Good evening."

Blake stepped inside.

The moment he sat down, he noticed the driver’s eyes briefly meeting him through the mirror. The driver looked at him for a second longer than necessary.

’Well, she is a very pretty girl... but this is uncomfortable.’

Blake immediately became conscious of his posture.

He kept his back straight without stiffening it, his shoulders relaxed, and his hands resting naturally together.

Soft, graceful, but not perfect. The girl fallen from grace that came here to find salvation. Yes, he was that person today.

He looked out the window. As the car moved through the wealthy neighborhood, Blake could see the buildings becoming larger and more elaborate.

’So this is the kind of neighborhood these people live in. The Anlortas love in isolated mountains, so this is new...’

Five minutes later, the car slowed.

They had arrived.

The driver stepped out and opened the door for Blake, offering his hand. He accepted it and stepped onto the pavement.

"Thanks."

He gave him a soft smile.

The driver nodded before returning to the car.

Blake turned toward the entrance.

’The building is enormous...’

Even from outside, it was obvious that this wasn’t an ordinary event hall.

He walked toward the entrance. A security guard stood near the doors.

"Good evening, Miss. Your invitation?"

Blake opened his small purse.

He carefully removed the black invitation and handed it over.

The guard checked it carefully, examining the information against a small device in his hand before finally returning it.

"Everything is in order. Please enjoy the evening."

"Thank you, sir."

Blake walked inside, and immediately stopped. For a moment, he genuinely forgot to move.

’...Whoa.’

The hall was beautiful.

Not beautiful in the modern, extravagant way Blake had become accustomed to seeing from his own family.

The walls were decorated with elaborate golden molding.

Large paintings hung between tall columns.

Massive chandeliers descended from the ceiling, their warm light spreading across the room.

The floor was polished enough to reflect the lights above.

Long curtains framed the tall windows.

Everything looked carefully preserved.

The entire place felt like it had existed for generations. Like countless important people had walked through these halls before him.

Blake slowly looked around.

’This is insane.’

And then he noticed the people.

There were so many.

The amount of guests was truly astonishing.

Men in formal suits.

Women in elaborate dresses.

People standing in groups, laughing quietly.

Others sitting around tables.

Every single one of them wore a mask.

For the men, most masks covered a large portion of their faces, making it nearly impossible to recognize anyone unless Blake already knew them.

That was convenient, and inconvenient. He needed to find one particular person, Sylvan Nada, Asher’s uncle.

Yet he had no idea what mask he would wear.

Blake took a slow breath.

’Alright.’

He entered the crowd.

He couldn’t simply stand around looking for him, that would’ve been suspicious.

So he did what any ordinary guest would do: he socialized a little.

He approached one group, listened to their conversation, and occasionally contributed.

Someone talked about international trade.

Blake responded with a vague but reasonable observation.

Another guest mentioned a family Blake had never heard of.

He smiled politely and admitted that he hadn’t had the opportunity to meet them.

A woman asked where he was from.

Sage gave a slightly embarrassed smile.

"My family’s circumstances have been... complicated."

That was enough to discourage further questions.

Blake moved on to another group, then another.

He listened, laughed when appropriate and asked harmless questions.

But nowhere was Sylvan.

’Where the hell is this man?’

He continued searching without making it obvious. He occasionally glanced around the room.

It almost felt like he wasn’t there at all.

Eventually, Blake decided to sit down.

He found a relatively quiet table away from the center of the hall.

A glass had been placed there.

He picked it up and took a tiny sip, immediately regretting it.

’Yeah, I don’t like this.’

He set it down, a light sigh escaping him.

"Miss, is the drink not to your liking?"

Blake remained calm.

Although he was slightly surprised.

Someone had approached him first.

He turned his head.

A man was sitting behind the table, his back was turned toward Blake.

’How rude...’

Blake smiled politely anyway.

"I’m afraid I’m more accustomed to kinder drinks, sir."

He gave a light chuckle.

The man laughed as well.

"At your age, that could only be the case."

Blake raised an eyebrow behind his mask.

’At my age?’

He decided not to mentally comment on that too much. Instead, he looked back toward the crowd.

His eyes continued searching for nothing. Still, he couldn’t afford to be rude, right?

"Do you also prefer that kind of drink, sir?"

The man considered the question.

"With my experience, I can only drink strong-flavored ones."

"Experience?"

Blake turned slightly.

The man gave a small laugh.

"You’ll understand eventually."

Blake smiled.

He wasn’t sure whether that was supposed to be advice or simply an observation.

Then the man glanced to the side. Someone had apparently caught his attention, so he got up.

"Excuse me."

He stepped away from the table.

Blake watched him leave.

Then his eyes drifted toward the person the man had approached.

Doing so, ge caught sight of the face belonging to the man he was talking about alcohol with, and froze.

The mask didn’t hide enough.

That face, that posture and especially that presence.

Blake’s eyes widened slightly.

’...Crap.’

There was no mistaking him, that was Sylvan Nada.

The very man Blake had spent the entire trip preparing to meet.

The man he had been searching for since entering the hall.

And he had been sitting right behind him.

’Now I’ll have to wait until he finishes his conversation. Ugh, I should’ve tried to look at his face!’

Blake resisted the urge to sigh.

He looked away.

’Well, last thing I want is to look like a creep.’

The conversation continued for several minutes.

Eventually, the lights in the hall dimmed slightly. The chatter gradually quieted, as a man stepped onto the raised platform at the front of the room.

The mayor of Drindia.

He welcomed everyone to the annual masquerade, speaking about the city’s history as a crossroads for trade and culture.

He mentioned the importance of cooperation between families, companies, and foreign representatives.

Blake listened quietly.

Basically all of the speech was predictable, so his attention kept drifting toward Sylvan.

The man stood among several guests, listening politely. He didn’t seem particularly interested in the speech, either.

Yet he wasn’t distracted, he simply watched calmly.

Blake narrowed his eyes.

’Yeah, this probably isn’t going to be easy.’

The mayor eventually finished, applause filling the hall.

The lights brightened again.

Then the musicians began preparing for the first dance.

Blake stood, adjusting his dress. Then, he looked toward Sylvan.

He couldn’t simply charge toward him, that would be far too obvious.

So he waited.

Sylvan eventually moved away from the group he had been speaking with.

Blake approached at a measured pace.

"Excuse me."

Sylvan turned, his eyes settling on Blake.

"Miss, it’s you again."

Blake gave him a small smile.

"I hope I’m not interrupting."

"You aren’t."

Blake glanced toward the dance floor.

"I was wondering... would you happen to be joining the first dance?"

Sylvan looked at him.

For a moment, Blake thought he might refuse. Instead, Sylvan gave a faint smile.

"Are you asking this old man?"

Blake’s smile became slightly more playful.

"I suppose I am."

Sylvan studied him for another second, then extended his hand.

"Then I’d be glad to."

Blake placed his hand in his.

’Old man, my ass...’

They stepped onto the dance floor, and the music began playing.

He immediately understood something. Sylvan wasn’t the kind of man who could simply be swayed by inflating his ego.

That possibility was always on the table.

Flattery worked on plenty of people, but he seemed far too accustomed to it.

But all he had to do was just adjust his approach.

He smiled, keeping his voice soft.

But instead of constantly praising him, he asked small questions.

"Sir, do you attend these events often?"

"Occasionally, Miss."

"I imagine it must be interesting, meeting so many people from different places."

"You could say that."

"What sort of people do you usually find yourself speaking with?"

Sylvan’s eyes narrowed slightly.

"People involved in business, mostly."

"Oh?"

Blake smiled.

"That sounds terribly serious, sir."

"It can be."

"Then I suppose someone like me wouldn’t understand much."

"You might understand more than you think, Miss."

Blake looked up at him.

"Perhaps, if I were taught about it."

The dance continued.

Blake carefully followed the rhythm, his practice was paying off.

He didn’t have to think about every movement anymore.

His posture stayed natural.

His expression remained soft.

And most importantly, Sylvan was still talking.

’Damn, I owe Zlatan and Estelle a big one.’

Blake gently steered the conversation toward travel.

Then trade.

Then the different kinds of people who attended events like this.

Nothing direct.

Just enough to keep Sylvan interested.

"You seem to know quite a lot about international business."

Sylvan gave a faint smile.

"I’ve spent most of my life around it."

"That sounds so exhausting, sir. But perhaps interesting enough to make up for it?"

Sylvan looked at him.

"You’re curious, I see."

Blake smiled innocently.

"Is that a bad thing?"

"No, for a young Miss like you, that can only help."

The music began to slow.

The first dance was coming to an end.

Blake felt a strange mixture of relief and disappointment.

He had managed to catch Sylvan’s attention, and that was enough for now, but nothing was still out of him.

Sylvan lowered his head slightly, and lightly kissed the back of Blake’s hand.

"Thank you for the dance."

Blake’s eyes widened slightly behind his blue mask.

’R-right. This is standard etiquette.’

He maintained Sage’s smile.

"Thank you."

Sylvan released his hand.

Blake watched him step away, his heart beating a little faster.

’The first step worked...’