Money Makes the World Go 'Round

…

Mattheus waited patiently behind his mother after Vincent was asked to retrieve him, the man and cat's conversation at the center of the hedge maze having caused both to lose track of time.

Honoria's dress looked as if it were the night sky studded with stars that made up the constellations of this world, all of which he was sure were precious gems. Brunilda had explained to him that, since he was a bachelor and his mother the hostess of this masquerade, that Honoria Crown had gone a bit more attention-grabbing than the woman otherwise would.

The youngest Crown thought his mother looked fine but maybe that was his old sensibilities at play. He didn't even bother dressing himself for a reason—the standards of aristocratic fashion were too confusing for him to want to ever learn.

As his mother finished introducing him, the woman turned around, showing off her delicate white mask half-hidden by a short veil that matched her dress.

She smiled encouragingly at him but the countess needn't have worried. Mattheus just didn't care for public speaking, not that he was bad at it, per se. He wasn't like the Original, who seemed to be another Machiavelli—someone who could talk a lot about the theory but personally carrying it out was another matter.

He might have gotten an MBA that specialized in math more than management but he wasn't exactly unfamiliar with speaking before a group of elite and rich peers. He hated it but he still graduated with distinction for a reason.

With a small indiscernible sigh, Mattheus walked up with a winning smile, showing off perfectly white and straight teeth. It was something Brunilda taught him years ago, smiling would immediately get people to like you—both in your personal life or in business.

Ignoring a few particular individuals, Brunilda had been right.

(Though he could never manage to smile at his mother back when he had just been Theodoric He, he doubted it would have changed anything even if he did. Maybe that was why he never tried.)

…

Soon after finishing his speech and officially starting the festivities, Mattheus stood as he received congratulations from guests, a pleasant smile plastered on his face even if he felt like time was trickling to a crawl.

Ironically enough, he kind of missed the phantom memories of the Original. The masks everyone wore seemed to prevent the Transmigrator passive from triggering and giving him a distraction from the repetitive conversations

He did focus a bit more on seeing who was walking toward him, having ended up just parroting the lines Brunilda fed him at some point when he was mentally flagging after the sixth time he had to hear and accept similar well wishes and comments.

It was the Duchess with Edgar escorting her.

Mattheus's eyes flickered to Honoria Crown, who had just been a few meters away to no doubt rescue him if she found it necessary, with the earl standing by her side. The twenty-year-old seemed to pick the perfect time to peek since he saw her sharp blue eyes look at the Duchess with her eldest son for a long moment.

'Ah, Mother looks pleased,' Mattheus thought before he excused himself from the affluent couple seemingly trying to get him to represent their medical company.

"Aww, how cute," Brunilda cooed condescendingly. "They're wearing couple colors."

Now that the cat pointed it out, the young baron saw the green in his brother's outfit, making the otherwise ivory outfit match with Sophily Morgaine's lavender and dark-green dress. Edgar tended toward earthy colors and the usual blacks and blues. This was the first time Mattheus could recall the older man wearing green.

Huh.

Mattheus swept his hand and gave a rather theatrical bow that seemed rather fitting considering the location and what they were wearing. "Your Grace, I am honored you came."

"Why would I not?" Sophily smiled a little in amusement. "How has the fact you can now no longer be considered a teenager treating you, Doctor Crown?"

"It's probably too soon to tell. At least I can now use this as an argument if others doubt my abilities because of my youth going forth." He rubbed his exposed chin with a gloved hand. "Unfortunately, I still look my age," he said jokingly.

Edgar sighed. "Is this how you talk to Lady Sophily, Brother? No wonder it sounded like she was talking about someone else whenever we were on the topic of you."

"Oh, talking gossip about me, are you?" Mattheus smirked. He spread his hands, gesturing a bit helplessly. "As for the tone I take with Her Grace, well, I think she looks much prettier in good cheer than not, do you not agree, Brother?"

Mattheus then returned his attention to the Duchess.

"Of course, I still hold my lady in the highest regard." He nodded at her respectfully.

Sophily tittered behind a lace-gloved hand. "I just find it a bit amusing that it turns out that Doctor Crown is the charming one when all the rumors about spurned lovers are directed at Sir Edgar. Who is… also charming. In his own way."

Mattheus threw his head back and laughed. The twenty-year-old will always appreciate a dig at Edgar. Sure, he appreciated this older brother of his but he just couldn't resist making fun of the uptight and overprotective man.

Even Brunilda found the situation funny.

"Oh, you two are absolutely horrid together," Edgar grumbled. "Anyway, happy birthday, Mattheus. Let's go greet the Earl and Countess, shall we, my lady?"

The tall baron watched with a crooked smirk as the two left, his older brother cutting the conversation short before further teasing could commence. He didn't think Edgar thought it through though, because they were heading right toward Honoria Crown, their mother who would be even worse than Mattheus could ever be.

"Keep your wits about you, Mattheus. Harloch at your 12," Brunilda abruptly warned.

The peculiar tone she used, less relaxed and more alert, had Mattheus quickly sober up.

Baldroy came to greet him and mentioned Ophelia Marcel along with the fact his new car was brought and parked on the grounds. Considering his wariness was up, Mattheus used the fact people were still coming up to talk to him as an excuse to skip going out to check his new automobile with the other baron.

Mattheus couldn't figure out why Brunilda seemed to be wary of Baldroy but trusted both her instincts and skill to read others. The conversation itself was just like the others he's had with the financial officer: perfectly normal if slightly obnoxious because Baldroy Harloch was such a typical ambitious businessman at the heart of it.

When Baldroy left to grab a drink and mingle, Brunilda finally broke her silence.

"Earlier this morning, I didn't want to mention until later because of the party, but his sliminess went past the point I can excuse as typical corruption common in men of his position." Brunilda tensed before springing off from where she had been draped around his neck like a fuzzy collar. "Stick with the crowd and be careful. I'm going to follow him."

Mattheus was frozen as he watched the cat disappear into the crowd. Not that he would be able to speak any word of protest but she had just forced him to socialize and schmooze, didn't she?

…

The Court Healer was seriously dying.

He was an introvert and all this talking and socializing was draining his batteries to the negatives.

It was maybe almost an hour later when he found his salvation in spotting the rather conspicuous appearance of Marquess Illarion Snowe even while everyone was masked up. Excusing himself from the mother and daughter who seemed to be determined to talk him into considering the girl as a match, he strode toward where he saw the black and gloomy figure with long platinum hair that practically glowed white because of the lighting.

Ironically, for his fearsome reputation, the blond also had a gaggle of women around him. Maybe even noble ladies couldn't resist the bad boy type or, more likely, the lower nobles and social climbers could not resist the idea of becoming a marchioness, even if it's of the dangerous North.

Mattheus rescued the marquess by asking the older man to follow, and Illarion Snowe was thankfully willing to do so despite the lack of reason given.

As soon as they were a distance from the ballroom and crowds, Mattheus felt his shoulders loosen as he heaved a sigh of relief. The silence was startling, the sounds from the masquerade muffled from where the two men were walking down a hallway.

"Sorry, Lord Snowe, I couldn't leave without an appropriate escort but a general should be more than fine. I doubt you actually wanted to talk to those, err, ladies either."

Mattheus opened the door to a sitting room before heading in and moving to flop onto the couch.

The marquess gave him a weird look as he followed him into the room. "You feel safe with me?"

Right. The Snowe line had a reputation of being descendants of beasts. Basically like a werewolf or something similar as an ancestor?

"You're my brother's friend and I believe what I see rather than care about rumors," Mattheus reassured. "Human beings tend to be the biggest monsters from my experience, in any case. What difference does family history make?"

The Crown family used to walk among death and war too, so it wasn't as if Mattheus had a leg to stand on in that type of argument.

Illarion was noticeably uncomfortable with Mattheus's sentiments. He changed the subject.

"Where is the cat?"

Right. It's been a while since they last met—basically shortly after General Grant had been healed at the royal ball.

"Her name is Brunilda. I guess you might not know considering how Edgar's made a fool of himself against her."

"I see. But where is she?"

Almost like mentioning the devil, the door opened at that moment, and Brunilda squeezed through the gap before trotting in.

"Well. Here, I guess." Mattheus thought his friend's timing was a bit too good sometimes.

"I should go now," Illarion abruptly stated.

Mattheus blinked, not even able to say anything in response before seeing the ends of the marquess's jacket already disappearing behind the door.

He wondered if the gloomy noble was scared of cats…

Unfortunately, Mattheus had no time to ponder such whimsical thoughts, quickly distracted by Brunilda's words.

"Mattheus, Baldroy Harloch had cuff links engraved with the Egg of Columbus tangram, just like that pin of Mattheus Crown's."

Baron Baldroy Harloch was part of that secret society. A member the Original had never met before.