* * *

“Remy!”

Ashton’s voice cut through the hall just as something wet and cold doused Remy’s head.

Champagne, shimmering like liquid gold, drenched his carefully styled hair, dripping down his face.

For a moment, Remy stood there, stunned and unable to process what had happened.

“Oops,” a haughty voice sneered. “My hand slipped.”

Looking up, Remy saw a man standing before him, smirking.

An insignificant extra, yet the sight of him soured Remy’s stomach.

“Honestly, couldn’t you be more careful? Showing up just to get champagne dumped on you—how embarrassing.”

Laughter rippled through the crowd.

Despite being the victim, Remy found himself the subject of ridicule, with no one taking his side.

“Are you okay, Remy?”

Ashton rushed over, pulling out a handkerchief to dab at Remy’s soaked hair. Once satisfied that he’d done what he could, Ashton turned to confront the culprit, his face cold.

“Move,” came a sharp voice.

Remy, who had remained silent until now, suddenly stepped forward, pushing Ashton aside.

Although Ashton had tried to wipe it off, champagne still dripped from Remy’s hair onto his pale cheeks and blouse.

With a face that was almost too beautiful, exuding a strange allure, he twisted his lips, tinged with red, into a cold sneer directed at the man who had sprayed him with champagne.

“Remy…?”

Ignoring Ashton’s surprised tone, Remy grabbed a champagne glass from a passing server’s tray.

Holding it high for all to see, he tipped it over the man’s head, dousing him in one deliberate motion.

“…!”

Gasps echoed around the room.

Every onlooker stared, mouths agape, as Remy, without a hint of hesitation, emptied the glass and returned it to the server’s tray.

He spoke in a calm, indifferent voice.

“Oh dear, my hand slipped.”

His expression was unapologetic, his tone flat.

“What a shame. You must’ve gone through so much trouble to dress up like this.”

With a sardonic smile, Remy turned and walked away.

The man, soaked and seething, stormed after him, grabbing his shoulder and spinning him around.

His furious breath came in harsh gasps as he shouted.

“Hey! What the hell was that? You did that on purpose!”

Remy’s face remained calm, unchanging. In a steady, clear voice, he replied.

“Funny you should say that. Who was it that poured champagne on my head first?”

“W-what?”

“Why? Didn’t you say it was an accident? So, I just did the same. Any problem with that?”

Remy stared down the taller man, his composure a sharp contrast to the other’s boiling rage.

“You’ve got some nerve. Are you done talking?”

“No, not quite.”

“What?”

“Since we’re on the subject, if you have something to say to me, come say it to my face. Don’t skulk around in corners like a rat, squeaking behind my back.”

“You—what did you just call me? A rat?”

“Yeah, that’s right. A rat.”

“You’re asking for it, aren’t you? Want to see what happens when you mess with me?”

“Wow, you really don’t get it, do you? Yelling won’t scare me.”

Remy smirked, unbothered by the rising tension.

The orchestra’s music had halted, leaving only the heavy breathing of the furious man to echo in the grand hall.

The spectators, who had been mocking Remy earlier, now watched in uneasy silence, realizing he wasn’t in the wrong this time.

The tense atmosphere broke when someone from the angry man’s group stepped forward.

“Hey, let’s just go.”

It seemed even his companion recognized this had gone too far and tried to pull him back.

“No way! You want me to let him off?”

“Let it go, man. You’re making a scene. Let’s just leave, okay?”

Despite his indignation, the man eventually relented, shrugging off his companion’s hand as they pushed through the crowd and left.

As soon as they disappeared, the hall buzzed with whispers again, spectators dispersing as if nothing had happened.

“Ugh, seriously. What a waste of space,” Remy muttered under his breath, grinding his teeth.

He was genuinely angry, not just for himself but for the original Remy, who had endured such humiliation in silence.

‘Seriously? Remy, how could you just take that from those jerks? People like that need to be crushed so they don’t even think about acting up again!’

In modern times, this would’ve been an open-and-shut case.

A simple video uploaded to social media would’ve ended that guy’s reputation.

Was this just how things worked in this world?

“Consider yourself lucky you weren’t born in the present day,” Remy muttered, imagining the viral content this incident could’ve been.

“What? YouTube?” Ashton, standing nearby, looked puzzled.

Startled, Remy clamped his mouth shut, realizing he’d slipped.

“What was that? Did you just say YouTube?”

“N-no. I said…nut. Yeah, like nuts. Should’ve thrown some at him…”

“…?”

“You know, like in that saying. Give a hateful guy an extra nut?”

“…??”

As the conversation spiraled further into nonsense, Remy decided it was safer to stay quiet.

“Anyway…” Ashton thankfully didn’t push further.

Instead, he gently ran a hand through Remy’s damp hair.

“Remy, you’ve surprised me. I didn’t know you had this side to you.”

This wasn’t the reaction Remy expected. Did he mess up somehow?

“I’ve always felt bad, seeing you shrink back every time someone picked on you.”

Oh no. This was bad.

It dawned on Remy just how badly he’d deviated from the original.

Apparently, the old Remy had always backed down, the complete opposite of what he’d just done.

‘You were supposed to be a villain! A bully! How did you end up like this, letting people walk all over you? If you were going to play the bad guy, you should’ve done it right!’

Feeling an overwhelming sympathy for the original Remy, he sighed internally.

“Are you okay, Remy?” Allen appeared, concern written all over his face.

But the sight of Ashton tenderly brushing Remy’s hair made him freeze.

It was obvious to anyone how much Ashton cared for Remy.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks for checking on me.”

But guilt gnawed at Remy as Allen’s worried eyes met his.

‘How am I supposed to push a guy like this down the stairs? What a nightmare.’

As Ashton finally stepped back, two more figures approached: Hayward and Rex, both renowned for their striking looks.

The crowd’s attention was drawn back to them immediately.

“Are you hurt anywhere? Shouldn’t you change? Did you bring a spare suit?”

“I’m fine, Your Highness. This is nothing.”

“But your hair’s soaked…”

“It’ll dry quickly. It’s fine.”

Remy avoided Hayward’s intense gaze, his heart racing despite himself.

Really, I’m not nervous… not at all…

“Seems like you’re okay,” Rex’s cool voice cut through, bringing Remy a sliver of relief. At least someone here wasn’t overly fussing.

“Yeah, you’re right. Thanks for asking.”

Hoo…

Remy let out a quiet sigh as he replied to Lex with a bright smile.

One more hour until midnight, when Allen’s birthday officially began.

Just a little longer, and he could finally wrap up today’s mission and escape this exhausting ball.

‘I’m seriously tired. If only nothing else happens during the remaining time… Please, just this once…’

But, as always, the path of a novice transmigrator like Remy was never smooth.

“Remy.”

“Yes, Your Highness?”

And so, what new challenge awaited him this time…?

“Why don’t we dance? It’ll help lighten the mood.”

That’s right. The highlight of any ball—the dance session.

* * *