Throughout the night, Vanitas had mingled with familiar faces. From noble professors from the Silver University Tower, esteemed scholars from the Theocracy, and even some of his own students.
But this moment, however, was something else entirely.
"What are you?!"
"…?"
Vanitas blinked, momentarily baffled by the sudden turn of events.
Irene stood by the railing, visibly shaken. Her once-poised demeanor had crumbled. An unsightly sight for a princess of her standing.
Around them, a few onlookers had begun to take notice.
"Princess, what do you—"
"No, stop." Irene raised a hand, cutting him off before he could take another step forward. Slowly, she straightened, forcing herself to regain composure. "Stay there. Don't come any closer."
"...."
This reaction…. Had she used her Stigmata?
If so, what had she seen? What value had she perceived?
Curiosity sparked in his mind, but he quickly dismissed it, finding himself unable to ask.
