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“Damn it.”
Because her name had been called out so openly, Retina couldn’t just ignore it and walk away. Gripping the hem of her dress, she forced a troubled expression off her face and slowly turned around.
The first thing she saw when she turned back toward the ballroom was the Crown Prince charging toward her with an absolutely terrifying expression.
The shadow cast under his eyes reminded Retina of one crucial fact.
Herald Luddenheim, the Crown Prince, nicknamed “Pitto” (short for “blood-crazy lunatic”), was infamous for his foul temper—on par with the notorious Dnüve twins. Even Retina, who wasn’t exactly up to date on social gossip, knew that much.
He—he already noticed?!
Even though the prince had made the exact same face today, yesterday, and even the night they’d spent together, Retina was the one who panicked first, riddled with guilt. Not that the prince’s usual expression was ever friendly.
R-r-r-run!
In that split second, Retina made her decision. Her feet were already retreating. Just as she tried to widen the distance between herself and the Crown Prince with trembling legs—
“Waaah!”
She stepped on her own dress and pitched backward in a most spectacular way.
I’m going down!
Retina squeezed her eyes shut, fully expecting either a shattered tailbone or a concussion. Well, maybe not a concussion—she was wearing a wig, after all. But just as she was thinking that, a strong arm wrapped around her waist and yanked her forward. She slammed into something solid.
“That was dangerous.”
Slowly lifting her eyelids, Retina squinted—and saw the blazing sun behind him.
I’m doomed.
The hard thing she’d hit wasn’t a wall—it was his chest. And his arm was still wrapped firmly around her waist.
She opened her eyes just a sliver, then shut them again. She desperately wanted to just faint and escape this ridiculous reality. Was this even real life? Maybe it was a dream.
Still caught in his arms in the exact position she’d fallen back, Retina frantically denied reality. Even with her eyes closed, she could feel the crowd’s gaze drilling into her. Everyone was staring at the girl who had caused a scene with the Crown Prince the moment the party began.
Wow, this is brutal.
If she’d just fallen on her own, it might have looked silly—but at least she wouldn’t have turned half the noble ladies here into enemies. She couldn’t just stay in his arms forever, so Retina began trying to wriggle free.
“…You seem familiar.”
Then the hand on her waist shifted as the prince muttered. His fingers trailed lightly across her corset, and a chill ran down her spine. P-pervert…! She snapped out of her daze, shuddered, and quickly pulled herself out of his grasp.
“Retty! Are you okay?”
“M-mmh…”
The Dnüve twins approached Retina, who had quickly put distance between herself and the prince, checking on her as if worried about their younger sister who had nearly fallen.
“I thought you fainted from embarrassment in Herald’s arms and died of shame.”
“Honestly, maybe knocking yourself out would’ve been better than tripping over your own dress and ending up in the Crown Prince’s arms in that ridiculous pose.”
Please, just shut up!
Their “concern” was on another level entirely. Retina ducked her head even lower as her brothers added unnecessary commentary. And then she remembered: her brothers were known as “Eunto” (the subtly crazy lunatic) and “Geunto” (the muscle-crazy lunatic)—the prince’s usual companions.
Yeah… I see why those three hang out together.
Resignation clouded Retina’s face. The stares fixed on her showed no signs of fading.
Her plan to keep a low profile until her debutante ball had already gone up in smoke at the very start of the social season. Actually, it had probably been doomed even before that.
She lifted her head weakly to look at the three men. Together, they were the most handsome trio in the Empire, but they were also infamous in other rankings—like “Worst Personalities” or “Most Frequent Partner Swaps at Balls.”
“Why are you staring like that? Haven’t you seen your brother’s handsome face every day?”
Right. She’d been lenient because they were her brothers, but they were no better than “Pitto.”
Retina swallowed back tears and repeated to herself: Never let these lunatics find out what happened that night.
Normally, her brothers couldn’t care less about their father’s words, but for some reason, whenever Retina tried to slip away, they suddenly remembered “Father’s wishes” and kept her close.
“You are as lovely as a flower, my lady. I can’t tell if the blossom on your head is the flower, or if it’s your beauty. I’d like a closer look to find out… perhaps tonight?”
“Oh, Sir Haint, you’re awful—what kind of teasing is that?”
“And what if it isn’t teasing? It would be a shame to pass by such a beautiful flower without even savoring its fragrance.”
Haint brushed his hand through the lady’s hair and inhaled deeply. Her cheeks flushed scarlet, and she covered her mouth in embarrassment.
Wow, he’s really laying it on thick.
Retina crossed her arms and stared at the lady’s shy reaction to Haint’s obvious ploy.
It was already the fifth time he’d used a line like that tonight. Sister, don’t trust that guy. Retina shook her head behind him, but the girl—already ensnared—saw nothing else.
How long do I have to watch this nonsense?
She turned her gaze in the opposite direction.
“I heard Sir Sart will inherit the ducal title after marriage! How much more dashing will you be when that happens?”
“Haha, my father is eager to pass the title, but I asked him to delay it until I find someone I truly wish to marry. Compared to Duke Dnüve, I still have a lot to learn.”
“So humble…! A top graduate of Evelynte Academy and the youngest royal secretary in history—there’s nothing lacking at all! You’re already every bit a duke!”
“Is that how you see it? Haha, I’m flattered.”
Yup, same story over there. Retina frowned at Sart’s fake modesty as he soaked up compliments.
The fox hiding behind that polite mask was one of the most calculating men she knew. Sart had already made every preparation to inherit the title. He just hadn’t gone through the ceremony yet because he wanted more time to enjoy his freedom.
According to imperial law, an heir couldn’t formally receive their title unless they married, so most nobles married shortly after their coming-of-age ceremony.
The imperial aristocracy—the so-called “upper crust”—used these social gatherings as elegant façades for matchmaking between noble families.
For Retina, who had zero interest in marriage politics, these parties were nothing but boring. She spread her fan to hide her face and let out a long yawn behind it.
As usual, the three “handsome men” were busy charming various ladies, leaving her to sit beside them like some kind of accessory.
Wiping away a tear from yawning, Retina pouted and took a big bite of a cupcake. Oh. This is delicious. Her tired eyes widened in surprise.
She devoured the cupcake in an instant and reached for a slice of chocolate cake. Lina had told her not to eat too many sweets while wearing the dress, but it was too good to resist.
The Sylas family really makes good desserts.
Finding this tiny bit of joy in the dull party, Retina happily bit into the chocolate cake. The fluffy chocolate sponge and the rich mousse melted in her mouth.
It was different from the cakes made by her own family’s pastry chef—but equally delightful. Sweet enough that she didn’t even need tea.
As she was savoring her dessert, a handkerchief suddenly appeared in front of her.
“Your nose.”
“Huh?”
It was a luxurious handkerchief, bordered with gold thread and embroidered with intricate patterns. She followed the hand holding it upward—and met a pair of piercing red eyes.
“Cream. On your nose.”
“Ah!”
Realizing at last why he’d offered it, Retina jumped and grabbed the handkerchief, wiping her nose. She must’ve gotten frosting on it while eating the cupcake.
“Th-thank you. I’ll have this cleaned and—”
“Throw it away.”
“Ah, y-yes.”
The firm refusal left her awkwardly folding the handkerchief. Even Retina, who had grown up surrounded by luxury, thought it was a shame to toss away such a fine piece after one use. She eyed the cream-stained cloth. I could probably wash this and keep it…
This is so awkward.
She glanced sideways at the Crown Prince standing next to her. He didn’t seem to have any other business here—so why wasn’t he leaving? Her posture straightened involuntarily under the pressure.
I really wish he’d just go.
She already felt guilty, and being alone with him wasn’t helping. Oddly, none of the other young ladies who usually swarmed the prince came near them.
If she openly fled, it’d be like confessing, Yes, the culprit you’re looking for is right here~ So she was stuck. But if she avoided him completely, people would talk even more. She needed to say something. Anything.
“Um, Your Highness—”
“Lady Sesilica.”
They spoke at the same time.
Two gazes that had been looking elsewhere locked on each other.
