Lost in thought, Favna jolted back to reality only when a polite voice reached her ears—they’d already arrived at Veranica Bar’s entrance.

“Good evening, honored guests. May I check your invitation?”

“Ah…”

Startled, Favna shrank back, trying to hide behind Alte. But the ever-composed Dragon Knight calmly took her hand. “Here’s our invitation.”

“Thank you.”

After checking it, the attendant stepped aside with a slight bow. “Welcome. Enjoy your time with your partner.”

Alte led Favna inside.

Unlike the quiet outside, the bar pulsed with vibrant lights, lively music, and dancers swaying on the floor—sending Favna into a fleeting illusion of her past life. Just a momentary glitch. For someone with social anxiety, this noise was pure terror. Thankfully, Captain Alte was beside her. Better than facing this dreadful place alone.

Silence hung between them. To ease her nerves, Favna asked softly, “Which noble is hosting this mixer?”

“No need to know,” Alte replied, his sharp gaze sweeping the room. “We’re not here for pleasure.”

He guided her to a quiet corner table—perfect for observing the hall. Favna sighed in relief, curiosity flickering in her eyes as she scanned the scene. Couples swayed close. Masked women wore daring outfits, barely covering the essentials. Flustered by the exposed skin, Favna quickly looked away—only to meet Alte’s focused profile.

Noticing her glance, he turned. “Something wrong?”

“N-nothing!” She darted her eyes elsewhere, cheeks warming.

Alte merely clicked his tongue. “Prince Abel… He never planned to bring his wife here, did he?” Knowing the white-haired prince’s tastes, such flirtatious displays would disgust him—and honestly, Alte felt the same.

Favna followed his gaze. A noble’s hand slipped under his partner’s skirt. *Gasp!* The reclusive dragon yanked her eyes back to Alte, voice trembling. “Do nobles… always carry on like this?”

“Not just nobles. Gentry and merchants too.” Alte sighed, a hint of helplessness in his tone. Scandalous? Yes. Illegal? No.

“Good evening!” A waitress approached with a tray. “What would you like?”

“A gin for me. And… do you have water or juice for the lady?”

“I’m sorry—we don’t serve either.” She pointed to the entrance sign: *“No plain water or juice. Drink until you’re drunk.”*

To spare everyone awkwardness, Favna stammered, “I’ll… just have a light draft beer.”

“Certainly.” The waitress handed it over with a relieved smile.

Alte eyed the fizzing glass. “Can you handle alcohol, Favna?”

“A little’s fine…” She lacked confidence—never touched alcohol in either life. But beer’s low strength? She nodded bravely. “Should be okay.”

“Why repeat it?” Alte chuckled wryly. “If not, I’ll take it.”

“I’m fine.”

Thirsty, she removed her mask and sipped. *Bitter!* The taste nearly made her gag. Pride demanded she finish it—*glug glug glug*—down went the whole glass.

When Alte turned, Favna exhaled shakily, flushed and dazed.

“You don’t gulp alcohol like that,” he said gently. “How do you feel?”

Mouth bitter but bearable. Head fuzzy. Still, she smiled. “I… feel okay?”

Alte’s breath caught. Mask off, gown elegant, cheeks flushed—so vulnerable. An urge stirred… He shook his head sharply. “Sigh. ‘Okay’? You’re dizzy.”

“…Indeed.” Her voice slurred slightly.

A flirtatious female voice cut in nearby: “Quite the crowd, isn’t it?”

Favna barely registered it—until Alte seized her wrist and pinned her gently against the wall. His firm grip, his warm presence… Tipsy and flustered, her heart raced.

*What’s happening?*

*Did the ghoul-like Captain just… wall-pin me?!*