A Transmigrated Princess's Guide To A Fluffy Royal Life!-Chapter 49: Unpredictable Duke

The ballroom shimmered like a dream painted in gold.

Silk banners fluttered gently overhead, embroidered with stars and vines that glowed faintly under spell-light. Strings of magical lanterns floated across the high ceiling like soft fireflies, casting a warm hue over marble floors polished so perfectly, Evelisse could see her own nervous reflection in them.

Guests streamed into the room in waves—nobles in elaborate gowns, foreign dignitaries in embroidered robes, warriors polished to perfection. Musicians played a lilting waltz from the corner stage. Somewhere, a tower of candied fruits exploded into flame because the Royal Mage’s apprentice tried to "improve" it with a sparkle spell.

She stood between her mother and father, her gloved hands folded primly before her, tiara resting gently on her braided curls. Snugglewuff sat at her feet like a furry loaf, tail thumping gently with the rhythm of the music. Her seven brothers were scattered strategically throughout the room—distracted but ever-watchful. Marcus and Lucien chatted with minor nobles. Jared, in a wine-red cape, twirled a diplomat’s daughter dramatically before dipping her into a laugh. Leo and Lance flanked the entry, scoping anyone suspicious. Felix was scribbling observations about the magical lighting patterns.

Evelisse tugged her gloves tighter and tried not to fidget.

’So many people,’ she thought, scanning the crowd.

The ball had officially begun.

And still—no sign of the Duke.

Fluffy peeked out from her hair bun. "You’re sweating royalty. Should I mop your brow with a lace napkin or faint in your place?"

’I don’t sweat,’ Evelisse replied primly. ’I glow. I’m a princess.’

"Right. You’re glowing like a squirrel in panic."

She kept her posture upright, her manners crisp, her smile soft and charming—exactly as she’d been taught. But inside? A whole storm of thoughts danced around.

’What do I even say when I see him again? I still don’t know what happened between Father and the Duke. I can’t just walk up and ask, "Hey, sir, why do you scowl like someone insulted your honor on a full moon?"’

Fluffy scratched behind one ear. "What does the task screen say again?"

Evelisse mentally flicked her screen open.

[Third Fluffy Task: Convince the Duke of Orlean to carry you on his shoulders and forgive an old grudge against your father.]

[Reward: Instant Kingdom-Wide Adoration Boost]

Fluffy leaned closer. "It doesn’t say ’be charming’ or ’win a duel.’ It says *convince.* This is about trust."

She exhaled slowly. ’So I have to make him see me... not as a royal pawn. But just... me.’

’Fluffy, are you sure this is going to work?’ she thought, unsure about the task given to her.

"Work? No. But it will be entertaining," Fluffy replied, nestled between her hair. "He’s unpredictable. That makes him either extremely dangerous... or just allergic to fun."

’What does he even like? I don’t know what dessert to bribe him with, or what conversation to use. Should I sing? Juggle?’ Evelisse’s fingers clenched slightly.

"You’re thinking about this the wrong way, princess," Fluffy whispered. "It’s not about what he likes. It’s about being you, like you said. The system wants you to fix the past."

’But I still don’t even know what happened between him and...’

As if summoned by her thoughts, the steward stepped forward to announce the next guest.

"Announcing His Grace, Duke Altair of Orlean."

Evelisse stiffened.

The ballroom hushed—not out of fear, but a heavy kind of caution.

He stepped into view.

All heads turned.

A ripple of discomfort passed through the room.

Evelisse craned her neck and saw him.

Tall. Imposing. Dressed in a deep navy coat with silver-thread embroidery. His hair, dark as midnight, was tied back in a warrior’s knot. His eyes—sharp as glass and twice as cold—swept the ballroom with the caution of someone expecting a blade in his back.

He was alone.

No attendants. No companion. Not even a drink in hand.

He nodded stiffly to the steward and moved along the edge of the room like a shadow slipping through moonlight.

No one stopped him.

No one invited him to dance.

And yet... no one ignored him either. A respectful ring of space bloomed around him. It wasn’t rejection.

It was fear.

Altair stopped at the base of the stairs.

Evelisse looked across the ballroom—and found him looking directly at her. novelbuddy-cσ๓

Their gazes locked.

Not a glare.

Not exactly.

But something uncertain. Something unreadable.

Her heartbeat picked up.

"Little star," Seraphina whispered from beside her. "Let him settle. We’ll greet him soon."

"Yes, mommy."

She tried to focus on the ball.

On the guests.

On the music.

But her eyes kept drifting back.

’Why does no one speak to him?’ Evelisse thought.

"Because they’re afraid of setting off a thunderstorm," Fluffy muttered. "And they don’t want to be electrocuted during the waltz."

’He’s like a ghost in a room full of stars.’

"And you," Fluffy whispered, "are the only one reckless enough to talk to him twice."

Evelisse swallowed.

The Duke of Orlean did not dance. He did not drink. He simply stood near a window, observing everything. And people avoided him like he was a walking omen.

Evelisse furrowed her brow.

’Why did he come then? If he hates father?’

Then a worse question slid into her mind.

’What did Father do to him?’

Fluffy sighed from her hair. "This is going to be a long night if you keep overthinking."

’I can’t just ask Father. He’ll brush it off. And Lucien would only say it’s a family matter.’

She folded her hands properly and watched.

The Duke moved once. Just once. To pick up a cup from a passing tray. He didn’t drink from it. Just held it. As if pretending to be part of the festivities.

The tension around him never broke.

Evelisse swallowed hard.

’Okay. If I want answers... I have to ask him myself.’

"You can’t just walk across the ballroom and ask a scary war legend to forgive your dad without a plan," Fluffy muttered.

’Why not?’

"Because you’re a literal child wearing bunny slippers under your gown."

’I swapped those out for real shoes today! You’re just making fun of me, now.’

"Still. This is best done with a plan, not some crazy spun of the moment."

Evelisse took a deep breath. ’That’s how I roll, apparently.’

She glanced up at her brothers—still chatting politely with nobles, occasionally casting glances her way. Her moment had to be now.

This chapt𝒆r is updated by free(w)ebnovel(.)com