The grand hall of the Palais Merveilleux shimmered under the glow of crystal chandeliers, their light casting soft reflections on the polished marble floor. Fontaine’s elite mingled, their laughter and conversations blending into a harmonious murmur. Yet, amidst the opulence, Neuvillette stood apart, a figure of quiet composure.

His pristine attire mirrored the elegance of the gala—a silver-accented coat, adorned with faint patterns reminiscent of cascading water. A glass of sparkling water rested untouched in his hand as he surveyed the room, his pale blue gaze drifting from one animated group to another. Despite his status, he seemed more an observer than a participant.

The clinking of glasses and bursts of laughter surrounded him, yet he remained still. Conversations about politics, alliances, and trivialities reached his ears, but they were of little interest. To Neuvillette, these events felt like an endless performance, one where sincerity was often drowned by pretense.

Stepping away from the crowd, he sought the solace of the grand balcony. The cool night air greeted him, carrying the faint scent of saltwater from Fontaine’s cascading waterfalls. Below, the waterways shimmered in the moonlight, their gentle ripples contrasting the bustling atmosphere behind him.

“Chief Justice,” a quiet voice broke the silence. He turned, meeting your gaze. You stood a few steps away, dressed elegantly yet simply compared to the extravagance of others.

“You seem far from the festivities,” you remarked, your tone carrying a hint of curiosity.

Neuvillette’s lips curved faintly, though the smile was fleeting. “Perhaps. I find these gatherings enlightening, though not in the way most do.”

“Enlightening?” you echoed, stepping closer.

“The emotions here—the ambitions, joys, tensions—they paint a vivid portrait of humanity.” He paused, his gaze softening as he looked past you to the distant horizon. “And yet, it feels distant.”

You regarded him thoughtfully. “It must be lonely, watching from afar.”

For a moment, Neuvill