Chapter 165

Chapter 165

Time does not halt its passage for the resistance of a few. Just as Lorca's right eyelid had been twitching for days, the Medici Patriarch's birthday banquet arrived precisely as scheduled.

In previous years, to maintain an apparent distance from the Medici family's public stance, Eve would stand behind Qin Mengde throughout such important family occasions, diligently playing the role of the princess's loyal steward.

This time, however, with Sparti's specific invitation, Eve commissioned the Medici family's tailor to custom-make formal wear for herself and Frank. When the tailor saw the young man at the princess's residence, whose face bore an uncanny resemblance to the eldest young master, his complexion turned purple. After taking measurements, he left almost stumbling over his own feet. It was only Eve's calm remark, "The Patriarch is aware," that finally settled him.

Three days later, the finished garments were delivered to the First Empire Academy. The messenger was none other than the newly appointed Fifth Steward of the Medici family—the former Fifth Steward, having diligently served the eldest young lady Luo Lin, had been promoted to Fourth Steward.

"It has been a long time since the Patriarch saw you, and he misses you dearly," the Fifth Steward said, her visit clearly not a matter of idleness. The middle-aged woman, with her silver hair tied high, smiled gently and amiably. "Although the banquet is in the evening, we hope you can arrive a bit early that day to allow some extra time for catching up with family."

"Understood."

Despite her ready agreement, on the day of the banquet, Eve drove from the academy with the Wall-Imprisoned Serpent coiled around her wrist like a bracelet. After picking up Frank, she deliberately circled the central city three times, delaying until the lanterns, brighter than daylight, illuminated the evening glow. Only then did she slowly head toward the magnificent mansion, white and grand like an art museum, located in the northeast of the capital planet.

Standing before the Medici residence, Frank was filled with complex emotions. He found it unbelievable that after over twenty years of struggle, he had finally arrived before these gates. At the same time, he couldn't help but feel a momentary reverence toward the majestic palace-like estate, momentarily feeling caught between advancing and retreating.

Eve parked the car and walked over slowly, holding up her heavy formal dress. "Why aren't you going in? Nervous, being so close to home?"

"...Don't disgust me," Frank said, his heavy mood lightening considerably as he laughed wryly. "Just standing here makes me want to vomit."

If Eve hadn't told him that there were issues with his origins and that his birth mother might still be alive, Frank would never have followed her to the Medici residence as if bewitched.

He tugged uncomfortably at his tightly knotted collar, feeling a breath stuck in his throat—one step up was heaven, one step down was hell, much like the feeling this sprawling palace complex gave him.

Eve glanced at him but said nothing more. Instead, she extended her right hand, signaling for Frank to take it tactfully. Whether by the Medici Patriarch's instruction or not, the tailor had made her gown far more extravagant and dazzling than the design sketches. The long white silk dress trailed on the ground with crimson trim, featuring numerous pleats and silk flowers, making her appear even more dignified and tall. In contrast, Frank, wearing standard evening wear, seemed less like an accompanying escort and more like the handsome footman often kept by noble ladies in old-century novels.

It must be his imagination, Frank thought uncertainly. Surely Eve wasn't so malicious as to use him as a foil?

Meanwhile, the gatekeeper saw Eve approaching gracefully. Though puzzled why she didn't land directly at the inner gate but chose to enter through the main entrance, he respectfully ushered her and her young male companion inside. Upon reaching the banquet hall, the attendant smiled and bowed to take his leave, but when he caught a clear look at the companion’s face, his smile froze.

"E-Eldest... Young Master..." the attendant stammered, but as soon as the words left his mouth, he realized his mistake. The eldest young master should currently be in the banquet hall, accompanying the Patriarch in entertaining guests. How could he have just entered from the main gate?

Knowing he had misspoken, he forced a smile to change the subject and quickly scurried away.

Once he was gone, Frank turned to face Eve, suddenly understanding why she had gone through the trouble of bringing him in through such a long route. "You intentionally let others see my face, didn't you?"

He had been so preoccupied with his own thoughts that he had forgotten his resemblance to Cecil.

"What's the hurry?" Eve took a glass of wine from a waiter's tray at the entrance. Instead of entering the banquet hall, she led him away from the bustling front hall to the rear corridor filled with clematis and other exotic plants, walking unhurriedly. "Finding people is troublesome. Spreading word about you so that those who know you come to find you is much faster, isn't it?"

Frank clenched his fists, restraining himself. "Do you even know where my birth... relatives are? Or did you bring me here just to test things?"

"Guess?"

How could he possibly guess? Frank glared at her.

Before leaving, the servants at the princess’s residence, under Eve’s orders, had removed all his usual disguises, revealing his soft silver hair and gentle blue eyes—making his handsome features even more pronounced. Resembling the famously beautiful eldest young master of the Medici family, Frank had excellent natural looks, further enhanced by the skilled servants’ touch. At a glance, he could easily be mistaken for Cecil.

Along the way, many had likely witnessed this scene. The sharp-witted would have already rushed to report it to Cecil. The thought of the arrogant eldest young master probably feeling shocked, suspicious, and furious, yet unable to show any abnormality in front of the guests, gave Eve a quiet satisfaction.

In a good mood, she was more tolerant toward others and thus more patient in addressing Frank’s tangled thoughts. "Your status in the Medici family is awkward. If you don't show your face in front of many people, you might be dealt with before you even meet the person you want to see. Besides, Zuo Li was once a top elite at the First Empire Academy. If she has changed her name and identity, given your position, do you think it's more likely for you to find her or for her to come to you?"

Frank had no retort. Indeed, at the Prime Minister’s birthday banquet, crowded with nobles and dignitaries, a minor manager from the Luo family like him was utterly insignificant.

Bitterly, he lowered his head, not noticing how Eve, as if sensing something, turned thoughtfully.

Her spiritual power was sealed, but as an alchemist, her keen perception remained. She immediately felt something silently approaching from the shadows untouched by the light.

"Miss Eve, the Patriarch summons you to Lounge 01 on the second floor for discussions."

A hoarse female voice emerged from under a large hood. The First Steward, who always concealed herself in silver-gray robes, moved like a ghost, leaving no trace. Now, she stood by a pillar in the corridor like an eternal shadow.

Eve turned, narrowing her eyes. "First Steward, do you know what the Patriarch wishes to discuss with me?"

"I apologize, I do not know," the First Steward replied, her voice steady. "But the Patriarch asked only for you, not allowing me to accompany. It must be a matter of great importance. Please proceed quickly."

Not allowing the First Steward to accompany? Since meeting Sparti, Eve had never seen an occasion where the First Steward was forbidden to follow.

She had a guess in mind and glanced back at the still-confused Frank. "Then I'll go ahead. Since First Steward has no other duties, this is a friend I brought along. Could I trouble you to look after him?"

The First Steward remained silent. Her duty was to protect the Medici Patriarch at all times; no one could compel her to tasks outside her responsibilities.

But Eve knew she wouldn't refuse. This steward might seem aloof, but her heart wasn't cold. Especially when the one to protect was Frank.

"Are you going to see the Patriarch?" Frank was still processing. "Should I wait here for you?"

Eve: "Go wherever you like. With First Steward watching, Cecil won't dare act rashly. Instead of waiting here idly, why not stroll around the banquet hall? Making a few acquaintances could be beneficial for your future."

She had come here to wait for someone, and now that she had, there was no need to waste more time.

The lavishly dressed girl with an elaborate updo left after giving her instructions, leaving Frank alone in the wind-swept corridor to stare awkwardly at the fully concealed First Steward.

Dressed so mysteriously, she was clearly no ordinary person. And since Eve had addressed her as First Steward, she likely held a position second only to the Patriarch in the Medici family.

After a long silence, Frank finally cleared his throat and tentatively asked, "So, as Eve said, may I go to the banquet hall?"

The First Steward stared at him silently for a long time, as if reuniting with an old acquaintance, carefully tracing every detail of the young man’s features with her gaze. After a while, she sighed softly and turned away, saying calmly, "Follow me."

Eve didn't enter through the banquet hall's main door but went directly up to the second floor via the back entrance. Since Sparti had summoned her privately, it meant he didn't want her to appear too early.

Sure enough, upon reaching the top of the stairs, she saw the elegant, handsome middle-aged man leaning against the railing behind a curtain, holding a wine glass. Hidden by the drapery, those below would hardly notice that the host of the banquet was not part of the lively festivities but stood alone upstairs, quietly observing the scene below.

Tap, tap, tap.

Hard-soled shoes clicked crisply on the mirror-like white stone floor. Eve walked to his side, glanced down, taking in the entire view, and couldn't help but inwardly remark how Sparti grew more cunning with age—claiming to wait in the lounge, yet if she had entered through the main door, he would have seen it clearly from upstairs.

At a glance, Eve recognized many familiar faces. At the Empire’s Prime Minister’s grand birthday banquet, virtually every notable figure on the capital planet had brought their families, turning out in full force. A single word in this top-tier social arena could impact thousands of households across the empire.

"If you had a chance to view the Medici residence from above, you’d see it’s symmetrically shaped along an axis, like a butterfly," Sparti suddenly spoke. "The banquet hall lies in the wings of this butterfly. Every whisper that flows from here becomes a hurricane sweeping across the vast empire, ruthlessly traversing the expanse of space."

Yet, even such grandeur and gathering of talents were merely a spectacle for those watching from above.

This was the most direct manifestation of power.

Sparti straightened from the railing, turned, and raised his glass to the young woman with a smile. "So, are you satisfied with what you see?"

Eve’s eyes flickered. She lightly clinked her empty glass against Sparti’s. A soft “clink” echoed in the air, but she didn’t withdraw her glass. Instead, she smiled faintly. "You suddenly call me here and say such tempting words—I might really take it as a signal that the heir’s seat is changing hands."

"What if I truly mean it?" Sparti said, half-serious, half-jesting.

Eve stared directly at him, her long-hidden greed surfacing once more. But Sparti turned his face away, avoiding her gaze.

Below, music drifted gracefully. The younger generation of the Medici family struggled to overcome their discomfort, mingling among the various guests. Upstairs, only two solitary, slender figures stood, gently swirling their glasses. The clear liquid within seemed to hold a tiny sea, capable of determining the fate of an entire vast family.

Yet, at this most thrilling moment, Sparti abruptly changed the subject: "Didn't you bring a friend today? Why not introduce him to me?"

"......"

Who would be in the mood to help someone find their parents right now? Eve nearly blurted it out but bit her tongue at the last second, gritting her teeth as she shot back, "You're not his biological father anyway, why do you care so much?"

Sparti gave a dry laugh, "And aren’t you also not my biological daughter?"

Eve: "Well, it’s a bit too late to say that now."

"Frank actually is connected to me. Way back, I had an older brother," Sparti suddenly said, "but he’s dead now. Do you know why he died?"

"You killed him."

She said it not as a question, but as a fact.

The Medici Patriarch’s eyelid ticked: "Do I really seem so brutal in your eyes—killing my own brother, making trouble for his orphan, and then casually bringing it up in conversation?"

Eve didn’t respond, but her large, water-blue eyes blinked, full of understanding—

You can fool others, but there’s no need to play innocent in front of your own people.

Sparti: "......"