Some clung to desperate logic.
"Maybe he's someone's guest?""Maybe… maybe he's here because of a rich patron?"
And that thought—
That single, desperate attempt at rationalization—
Ignited a firestorm of rumors.
"It must be a woman. Someone from the top ten families must have taken him in—""I heard he's kept by a powerful heiress.""What if he's… being supported?"
Their minds scrambled for an explanation—any explanation that fit the narrative they had believed for years.
After all, he had always been a mystery.
Even though he was the most famous man in the world, almost nothing about his personal life was known.
No scandals.No family background.No confirmed history.
It was as if he had appeared from nowhere.
So the assumptions had begun long ago.
The world had whispered for months, for years—
That someone, somewhere, must have been supporting him.
That a man like him—too perfect, too untouchable, too powerful for an ordinary star—must have been kept by a secret backer.
A woman.
Perhaps a princess from a hidden empire.
Perhaps a widowed queen from old money.
Perhaps—
Someone in this very ballroom.
And yet—
Even as these desperate theories spread like wildfire—
The truth loomed over them, suffocating and undeniable.