The night was deep, and Marshal Aber's manor was brightly lit, with melodious court music echoing in the banquet hall adorned with crystal chandeliers.

Silver cutlery and wine glasses shimmered in the candlelight, and the elegantly dressed guests gathered in small groups, conversing in hushed tones, occasionally breaking into laughter.

As the protagonist of tonight's coming-of-age ceremony, Arthur Aber, Marshal Laco Aber's youngest son, was undoubtedly the focus of attention.

This young knight not only inherited his father's height, handsomeness, and bravery but also won the recent knightly tournament, earning the cheers and applause of all the city's citizens, and was bestowed by Prince Colin as the "Chief Knight" of the Holy Temple Knight Order!

Although this honor was somewhat in consideration of his father's face, which of the gentlemen and ladies present hasn't benefited from their parent's care?

Even the servants serving tea and water must have secured this enviable job thanks to ancestral shelter.

Such are the rules of this world.

In the banquet hall, the young ladies all cast admiring glances at Arthur, whispering about his courageous performance, boldly and passionately approaching him with wine cups, inviting him to dance... making the other young knights who were victorious feel envious.

"I feel like we're just ornaments on Sir Aber." remarked a young man who also placed in the knightly tournament, trying not to let his jealousy appear too obvious.

A slightly older knight beside him glanced at him in surprise and said.

"You've only just realized? I thought you knew."

"...I've heard Prince Colin has no children, I wonder if I have a chance." A freckled young man looked eagerly in the direction of Prince Colin.

"What, you want to be his godson?"

"Why not? What if—"

"There's no 'what if.' As long as he wishes, there are girls willing to help lining up from the dance floor to the manor entrance. I think you might as well dream he likes shortcuts."

"Get out of here!"

"Haha!"

Listening to the natural laughter of other young men, Jasper stayed silent, maintaining a stiff smile, his toes already curled tightly.

Standing here, he only felt out of place with his surroundings, even his dress was being difficult, squeezing his ribs painfully, and making his arms ache.

By Saint Sith, he would rather battle demons on the battlefield!

Never having attended such an event, he was so nervous he had no energy to think of anything else.

Everyone has things they're not good at.

Not only Jasper, a man from a civilian background, but Arthur, surrounded by young attendees like stars around the moon, wasn't entirely exception-proof—apparently, not everything is as easy for him as riding a horse.

Gracefully and tactfully handling the fiery gazes, this handsome young man's eyes tirelessly searched the dance floor, finally landing on a solitary young lady.

That young lady was Duke Andre Castellion's youngest daughter, Ophelia Castellion, slightly younger than him.

She was wearing a light purple long dress, with exquisite silver embroidery resembling starlight on the hem, and her slender neck was elegantly swan-like... making a teenager in the throes of puberty hold his breath unconsciously.

Though people often say there's nothing the Earl's family children haven't seen, Arthur was still at the age where he hadn't gotten over the hurdle of women, and indeed hadn't seen this.

When he saw Prince Colin taking her hand, his heart seemed to stop for a moment—even though he knew that was a normal courtesy.

The time of this dance felt like an eternity to him, but thankfully they finally finished, and Prince Colin did nothing inappropriate.

At this moment, the young lady stood alone at the edge of the dance floor, a subtle hint of melancholy on her fair face, beautiful and pity-arousing.

Arthur took a deep breath and walked over, his face flushing. He stopped beside Ophelia, leaned slightly, and spoke politely and nervously.

"Miss Ophelia... I'm Arthur Aber, we... met once before, though you may not remember me, but I've always remembered you... I'm honored that you came to my coming-of-age ceremony."

His voice grew more constrained, his face unconsciously turning beet red.

"Would you be so kind as to join me for a dance? I wish to dedicate the glory of today's knightly tournament to you."

Ophelia came back to her senses, glancing at the young man in front of her, lifting her skirt with courtesy, though her demeanor was a bit indifferent.

"Mr. Aber, surely you have many dance partners tonight? You're probably not short of me. I think, rather than wasting valuable time on someone unworthy, you might as well find a girl you truly fancy, right?"

Ophelia's refusal was rather tactful, yet Arthur, spellbound, obviously failed to catch on, and awkwardly tried to console her.

"Please don't describe yourself that way, you're definitely not that kind of person... You are the only partner I hope for."

With that, he straightened his back, filled with passion, and continued, "Miss Ophelia, I won the knightly tournament championship today all because of your encouragement! This glory... I want to dedicate to you!"

At the moment his words fell, there were soft exclamations heard around, quickly transforming into whispered discussions and giggles.

In the traditions of the Aus Empire, gifting the glory of a knightly tournament is tantamount to a confession.

No one expected the youngest son of the Aber family to be this bold.

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