As a well-mannered gentleman, Caine certainly did not gaze steadily at Alan's wife; instead, he looked at the renowned surgeon and said, "Good evening, Alan. May I ask, how shall I address you?" Alan's reserved demeanor remained unchanged, yet he politely smiled while offering a beautifully packaged red wine, saying, "My wife, Verma Gladstone, a high school teacher." "It seems you're about to become a father—what's the due date?" Caine took the gift and smoothly followed up with the question. Originally, he had prepared to discuss several recent surgical innovations reported in the press, but he hadn't anticipated that Alan would be joined by his pregnant wife. To him, this was a delightful surprise—since the unborn child in Verma Gladstone's womb was the "Mercury Serpent," Will O'Connechty. Alan instinctively glanced at the lady's abdomen, a faint smile playing on his lips. "In early July, if you don't mind, I'd like to invite you to his birthday celebration." As soon as he finished speaking, the elegant, beautiful black-haired lady, Verma, suddenly pressed her hands to her belly and softly gasped in pain. "What's wrong?" Alan asked immediately. "He kicked me—now he's settled down," Verma said, her expression relaxing. She then turned to Daven Thantès, offering a warm smile. "Being pregnant, I haven't attended a gathering like this in a long time. I've been staying at home, feeling a bit constrained, so I asked Alan to bring me along. Though I can't dance, I can chat with the ladies, and even find time to play cards." "Your presence is a true pleasure," Crane replied sincerely. "I'll be attending his birthday celebration in early July." He wasn't affected by the minor mishap earlier and still remembered Dr. Allen's invitation. After a few more pleasantries, Caine handed his gift to his personal servant, Richard, asking him to escort the two guests—no, three—into the hall. Not long after, he welcomed his second set of visitors: the Archbishop Electra, still dressed in his black clerical robe, and his companion. The woman was a young girl, with a hint of baby fat still on her face, barely in her twenties, full of fresh energy and curiosity, yet carrying a certain maturity from having given birth. "Good evening, Archbishop. My sleep has been excellent lately," Caine said, as though unaware of the Night Church's quiet efforts. Archbishop Electra immediately tapped his chest four times in a clockwise motion. "It is the protection of the goddess," he said. Then he introduced his companion: "My wife, Shona Johnson." "Since he frequently meets with Dautin Thénardier and has visited his home on several occasions, there's no need for him to bring an extra gift—otherwise it would seem overly formal and distant." "Hello," said Cline, half-flattering, half-joking, as he nodded to Shona. At the same time, he silently calculated in his mind: It was said the bishop had married two years ago, so his wife must have been around eighteen or nineteen at the time—quite a gap in age. Perhaps in a few years, he'd need to introduce the plump pharmacist to him. Upon hearing Dautin Thénardier's remark and recalling their conversation during his visit to the hospital, Bishop Elektra felt a little uncomfortable and cleared her throat, responding on behalf of her wife: "She's someone who enjoys social events; if she has the time, she never misses a ball." Cline said no more, as he noticed Madame Marie stepping down from the carriage and making her way toward the entrance. After the Bishop couple entered the hall, Cline smiled at Mary and said, "Madam, perhaps we'll be working together next week." His legal and accounting teams had completed their investigation, concluding that Coym Company was in excellent standing and highly suitable for investment, and had already reached an initial agreement with the gentleman selling shares—12,800 pounds for 3%—awaiting final confirmation next week. Upon hearing this, Mary smiled lightly and remarked, "Now I consider you my partner." This seemed to be a subtle, layered statement... perhaps she had taken a liking to D'Artagnan? Cline's heart stirred slightly, but feigned not having heard, instead reaching out and saying, "Well, let's make it a successful collaboration." He shook her hand gently and then invited her into the hall with the butler, Walter. As the guests began to arrive in increasing numbers, Cline warmly and humorously welcomed each one, receiving several gifts in return. If it weren't for the "Faceless Man's" professional instinct of remembering people's appearances and characteristics, I'd almost be unable to tell one person from another, let alone find the right topics to discuss—no wonder we often need the house staff's assistance. While reflecting on this, Kline spotted the Mahert family entering the room. He brightened and stepped forward, saying, "Good evening. The stars tonight are especially beautiful." Mahert议员 smiled and offered him a bottle of Blackland wine from an unknown estate. "I've lived in Beckland for nearly twenty years, and the number of nights I've seen such a clear sky adds up to less than this year." "I hope that number continues to grow," Kline said to Lady Liyan. "I heard you're looking for a boarding school for Miss Haiyuer?" Liana glanced at her daughter standing beside her, expression cold yet maintaining a polite smile. "School education is becoming increasingly popular, especially among women. Most importantly, perhaps Hayourel will make more friends here—though it seems she's reluctant, unwilling to part with us." In Beckland, girls' boarding schools for the upper class have emerged, offering education that may not quite match that of private tutors, but they do create a social circle. Such a school charges around 500 pounds annually in tuition alone. She might be reluctant to give up the plumbing system, thought Caine, briefly chatting before allowing the Mahert family to enter the hall. When the time was right, he stepped away from the entrance, ascended to the second floor, and stood behind the balustrade directly facing the door, signaling the invited band to pause their performance. Klein held a glass of champagne and surveyed the room. When all the guests turned to him, he spoke out clearly: "It's a pleasure to have you all here tonight. First, my thanks to the goddess, and second, to each of you... I've prepared some special melodies and hors d'oeuvres from Dijon—hopefully you'll enjoy them." After a brief speech, Klein descended the stairs to the main hall, where the dance floor was located, ready to invite the ladies to begin the evening with a formal dance. So, Klein approached the lady named Olori without any mental burden, taking steady, confident steps toward her. Olori was a widow, well-connected with several prominent figures in Beckettland, and had established a respectable presence in the social circles—though she was notably overlooked by women of standing, who generally held her in contempt. Nevertheless, Olori possessed a strong sense of charm and personal grace, particularly in her figure—full-figured, with a captivating hourglass silhouette. If it weren’t for her face, which was merely average but still pleasing, Klein would have doubted whether she wasn’t actually a sorceress herself. "Madam, would you be so kind as to dance with me?" Klein presented himself with perfect posture, as instructed by his etiquette teacher, Wahana. Olori, with her golden hair neatly coiffed, smiled warmly and extended her hand. "You are a gentleman one cannot refuse." "...that sounds a bit ambiguous. Her identity and the role she plays in social settings mean she can't be as reserved as most ladies and young women. René pulled her into the dance floor, moving gracefully to the country-style music. ——The nobility own land, manors, and castles in the countryside, spending several months each year there, so country music has become a staple in high society's social life. 'You're quite good at dancing,' said Oloré, deliberately bringing the two of them close so that their breaths were nearly felt as they moved together. Since they were strangers, René felt a bit uncomfortable with this level of proximity, yet couldn't simply push her away in front of everyone, so he smiled and said, 'I just wasn't used to this kind of dance.' 'Actually, I'm quite skilled at the more casual dances from D'Island and the southern continent.' "I also really enjoy those dances—they're powerful, full of energy, and performed for oneself, not for others." Orlie found the conversation flowing easily, twisting her body with natural ease, making her seem incredibly close to Doun Thantès. As the final moments of the opening dance approached, she suddenly lowered her voice and smiled: "If I hadn't heard some rumors, I'd have thought you didn't like women at all—seemed a bit stiff." Crain felt genuinely embarrassed; Orlie was truly skilled at using both her body and words to create an intimate atmosphere, yet Doun Thantès, being an experienced social figure, wouldn't admit it on the surface. He smiled naturally: "The stiffness comes from still being used to adapting to the social scene in Béklând." "I can teach you," Orlie said lightly. At that moment, as the music concluded, she stepped back and winked: "You're actually quite warm and enthusiastic." The remark carried a double meaning, leaving Crain nearly blushing and beginning to wonder if Orlie might indeed have a connection to the sorceresses. He remained composed, bowed slightly to return Olori to her original seat, and with a glance at the corner of his eye, he noticed Lady Verma Gladith, carrying the "Silver Snake," making her way toward the long table by the side, evidently heading for the first batch of ice cream. P.S.: Monday ticket and monthly pass recommendations!