Upon entering the palace ballroom, Ilse who entered with the Count and Countess Kallenberg, couldn't help but let out a gasp of "Wow..." It was understandable. Even though she worked at the palace, a maid almost always dedicated herself to the background, never attending balls or ceremonies, and was always on the side waiting for Heidemarie to return to the waiting room. The large chandeliers suspended from the ceiling. The huge mirrors adorning the walls. The beautiful marble floor with its variegated pattern. She was accustomed to the opulent interior of the palace, but perhaps because this was a special occasion like a ball, who everything seemed to shine. "I only brought you here because you insisted. Don't look around like a total rustic. It's embarrassing." A cold voice came from beside her. It was the Countess Kallenberg. Ilse apologized with a "Sorry" and focused her gaze straight ahead, steeling herself to keep her eyes from wandering. "I lent you with this dress and these ornaments. So make absolutely carefully you don't lose them." To this, she also simply nodded "Yes." Only in her heart did she mutter, I never once said I wanted to attend the ball. Eventually, a fanfare sounded. The ball officially began with the King's address. The first dance was a waltz. "You stand against the wall." Countess Kallenberg seemed determined to treat Ilse as an inconvenience. Ilsee hadn't participated to enjoy the ball, and she hadn't danced since she'd learned it long ago, so she felt nothing but anxiety. Just as Ilsee was about to meekly obey, suddenly Heidemarie approached her. "Ilse, come here." The Count and Countess Kallenberg both stood with their mouths agape in surprise. It seemed Heidemarie intended to treat Ilsee as a lady of noble family, equivalent to a member of the Count's house for tonight. "Thank you. But... but I haven't danced in a long time—" "Oh, it's the first song. The steps are easy. You'll remember right away." Heidemarie said, and guided her onto the floor. As she took her designated place, the music began to swell, as if it had been waiting for them. Ilse glanced at the lady next to her and took the first step. At first, her movements were clumsy, but since it was just a repetition of the same motions, the tension gradually left her shoulders. In the waltz, partners continuously change, but the gentlemen who came before her were all high-ranking figures of the realm, which made her feel faint for a completely different reason. After a few partners, Diethardt stood before her. (Whoa... Prime Minister Schwarzen in formal wear... amazing...) Even Ilse, who wasn't supposed to be in love with him, felt her eyes drawn to his flawless appearance as a young nobleman. A jet-black frock coat and a lustrous silk cravat. The ivory waistcoat worn beneath his jacket was adorned with beautiful, tonal embroidery. His hair was casually swept to the side, seeming to accentuate his cool eyes. His expressionless demeanor make her felt cold, yet coupled with the nobility emanating from him, it perversely made one want to draw closer. How could this be? Ilse recovered in a matter of seconds and began to analyze the situation. No wonder women fall for him. "…You are…" Perhaps because she had stared so intently, Diethardt might have realized that the woman in the red dress was Heidemarie's maid. Ilse was about to frantically look down but stopped herself just in time. She had a mission waiting for her later, that she use her feminine charm to seduce Diethardt. It might be wise to lay the groundwork now. With that thought, she flashed him an amiable smile. Immediately afterward, a sigh that sounded like a groan of "Ugh..." escaped Dietheardt's lips. As they danced, their hands touched. For some reason, it looked as though Diethardt stumbled... but it was only for an instant, so she might have been mistaken. Her first ball was a constant source of tension. After a few songs, Heidemarie approached Ilse again and spoke to the Count and Countess Kallenberg. "Ilse is also fluent in foreign languages and reads letters and documents fluently without stumbling. She is indispensable person." This seemed to be a happy miscalculation for the Count Kallenberg. Heidemarie had only spoken up as part of her groundwork for the near future, but the Count didn't notice this and was visibly pleased. Wanting to boast that his sister was a favorite of the Princess, he took Ilse to make the rounds and greet members of his political faction. The Countess's eyes were not smiling as she watched them, and Ilse desperately wished to be released. However, her half-brother didn't notice and, worse yet, insisted on going to greet Duke Rugart, the faction leader. Give me a break please, Ilse muttered inwardly. "This is my half-sister. Princess Heidemarie seems to be quite fond of her." Introduced by a beaming Count Kallenberg, Ilse gave a courteous lady's curtsy, as she had learned from her former tutor. "My name is Ilse Kallenberg. My father was Wolf Kallenberg, the former Count Kallenberg." "I see. I knew the former Count Kallenberg well. He spent his later years in his territory. The Count must have been very happy to spend time with such a beautiful daughter." Duke Rugart, who was about ten years older than the Count Kallenberg in his late forties, looked at Ilse with a benevolent smile. He didn't seem to have the leisure to take a particular interest in a mere half-sister, and the greeting ended with just that one remark. The Count Kallenberg started discussing politics with his colleagues, and Ilse, feeling excluded, slipped away and masking left her presence. She made her way to the wall and finally took a breath. It was a ball where she knew almost no one, yet perhaps the greetings she had been dragged through earlier by her half-brother had an effect, as she was invited to dance by two unfamiliar gentlemen. Ilse was a young woman of marriageable age. Her heart felt a tiny surge of excitement at the dance invitations, and she took their hands. She thought, Surely this is what they call an encounter and it's the beginning of a romance. Realistically, she lacked the experience or quick wit to sustain a conversation, and they parted as the music ended. Nevertheless, she was wrapped in a strange, floating sense of euphoria, like she being floated on a cloud. She had read it in a story once that a ball was magical. Now, she felt like she understood why that was written. If her brother were a person who cherished Ilse, despite their half-blood relation, Ilse might be dreaming of an unknown lover at the ball right now. Instead of plotting her escape from her brother, she might be searching for a husband like the other ladies attending the ball today. It wasn't that Ilse was completely uninterested in love. Hearing the romantic tales of her colleagues, she prided herself on being more knowledgeable about the ins and outs of relationships than the average noblewoman, and she wasn't averse to such things. When those around her were excited, she sometimes couldn't help but imagine what it would be like if it happened to her. It was just that she couldn't think about it right now. "Ilse. What are you doing loafing about here?" "Whoa!" The sudden address made her utter a sound unsuitable for the occasion.