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Chapter 15
The Spring Ball at the Military Academy
The day of the Spring Ball at the military academy arrived, and the front gate was crowded with carriages. The first-year cadets stood ready to greet guests as they stepped down, while the second-years—neatly dressed in full uniform—stood just inside the entrance to welcome them and guide them in. The senior students waited with their families in the outer hall or strolled around the academy grounds.
Even though he was the Emperor’s grandson, first-year cadet Leopold could not escape these duties. Like the others, he was busy guiding guests from their carriages to the hall. All the while, he kept stealing glances toward the gate, holding out his hand to help each lady down, just in case René might appear.
The steady line of carriages that had begun at five in the evening continued until just before seven, when the final carriage rolled inside and the gates were closed. Yet René still hadn’t arrived. Perhaps her train had been delayed again? Leopold’s face filled with disappointment as he stared helplessly at the closed gates.
“First-years, go get changed—now!”
At the sharp command of a second-year, the first-year cadets, including Leopold, rushed inside to change into their formal uniforms.
The dark blue ceremonial uniform of the academy was reserved for special occasions—such as entrance ceremonies, graduations, and formal events. Sometimes cadets even married in it before graduating.
When Leopold finished dressing, he checked his reflection in the mirror, adjusting his hair until it was perfect. Then he walked to his bed, reached beneath the mattress, and pulled out a small box. Setting it carefully in his palm, he took a deep breath and opened it.
Inside was a ring. He took it out and slipped it into the pocket of his trousers, checking several times to make sure the fabric was strong enough not to tear.
He had found it the day he saw René off at the train station—by chance, or perhaps by fate. In a jeweler’s display window, he had spotted the very ring he had always imagined giving her: platinum, set with a diamond.
When the shop clerk, wearing white gloves, took it from the velvet tray, it was exactly René’s finger size. Staring at it resting on the dark-blue velvet, Leopold decided he had to make it his own that very moment.
Tonight, beneath the beautiful April sky, he would dance with René—dressed in a lovely gown—and when the night was over, he would take her by the hand, kiss her with all the passion he felt, then kneel on one knee and offer her this ring.
He had made her promise to attend the ball—no matter what. She would come. And tonight, he would give her this ring.
Leopold gazed at his reflection again, his gray eyes shining above the deep blue of his uniform. His expression was unmistakably that of a man about to propose. He smiled faintly and stepped into the corridor.
“Leopold! You’re always the first one ready! Hey, which strap goes where?”
“Wait—how tight are we supposed to pull this?”
Having grown used to the uniform, Leopold helped his classmates, cinching their belts firmly around their vests and trousers.
“I can’t breathe!” one protested.
“Stop whining,” Leopold replied. “That’s how it should be—you’ll look sharper that way.”
The cadets sighed but followed his advice, tightening their belts to the last notch.
Thirty first-year cadets lined up outside the ballroom. A murmur spread through the guests as they caught sight of Leopold. Taller than most and blessed with striking features, he looked perfect in the academy’s crisp ceremonial dress.
“I heard the Duke of Lonaïl’s only son was attending the academy—it must be true.”
“Well, imperial descendants are always sent here.”
The crowd applauded as the first-years entered, followed by the second-, third-, and finally the fourth-year cadets—the stars of the night. Once everyone was in position, soft music began to play, and the ladies entered one by one.
Most were cadets’ sweethearts, sisters’ friends, or cousins. Their colorful dresses fluttered like blossoms in an April garden, filling the ballroom with light and motion.
Where is René?
Leopold searched the entrance with desperate eyes—and suddenly froze. The guests began to murmur as a man entered the ballroom escorting a young lady.
It was the Duke of Lonaïl—his father. And on his arm…
René.
She wore a soft green gown the color of young spring leaves, her brown hair swept up elegantly. Her face was calm, but when her eyes met Leopold’s across the room, she smiled faintly—though tears shimmered in her gaze.
Leopold’s own eyes burned. When René lowered her head, the Duke looked toward his son and offered a small, knowing smile. Leopold turned his face away, hiding his tears.
The music swelled, filling the hall like the spring breeze outside. The two lovers stood at opposite ends of the ballroom, staring at each other, unable to move or speak.
The true stars of tonight’s ball were the fourth-year cadets. With their formal training nearly complete, this was their final celebration before being assigned to military units. Some would train until the end of June, others until late August—spending those months in a strange in-between state, neither officers nor ordinary soldiers.
The Spring Ball, held on the last Friday of April, was meant to honor and encourage them before they left the academy.
The younger cadets also attended, either to celebrate their seniors or, if they had dance partners, to add life to the festivities. Those without partners usually slipped away to chat in the lounge or gather in nearby restaurants.
Tonight, the streets of Lainarke would be full of young men in military uniform—and wherever they went, there were sure to be admiring smiles from young ladies. It was a night of happiness for all.
Or at least, it should have been.
From the moment René entered, whispers had rippled through the cadets.
Compared to the other young women, she was more mature, more breathtaking. Her features were delicate like a doll’s, her brown hair and eyes perfectly matched her pale green dress.
But what truly stole their breath was her grace—the way she lightly lifted her hem as she walked, each step elegant and fluid, enough to make anyone fall in love.
Several fourth-years even tried to approach her to ask for a dance—but a quick tug on their sleeves, or a light smack on the back of the head from a friend, stopped them in their tracks.
“What are you doing?”
“The man next to her—that’s the Duke of Lonaïl.”
Every cadet knew the members of the imperial family. The Duke, adopted by the Emperor himself, was a well-known yet reclusive figure—the Hermit Duke, aged thirty-seven, who had long refused to take part in society.
Many of the young ladies, unaware of his story, stole curious glances at him. His tall, slender figure was handsome yet expressionless; deep lines framed one side of his mouth, becoming more pronounced whenever he allowed a faint, cynical smile to appear. It gave him a strange, quiet charm.
Hello, Leopold.
René couldn’t say it aloud. She could only look across the ballroom, where Leopold stood. She wanted to go to him—but she couldn’t. Instead, she lifted her gaze toward the chandelier hanging high above. Its lights shimmered like stars.
She was just a pretty doll in a lovely gown, holding a nobleman’s arm. A doll shouldn’t cry or look sad. So René forced her trembling lips into a smile, fighting back tears.
Leopold bit his own lip hard. He wanted to run to her, seize her hand, and escape—through the city, to the central station, across the border, to a small house in a deep forest where they could live forever, hidden from the world.
His heart constricted painfully. Still, he smiled, forcing calm into his face as he looked at her. But when he finally dropped his head, a single tear splashed onto the gleaming toe of his shoe.
Face flushed, Leopold quickly looked up again, swallowing the lump in his throat.
Not yet. I can’t cry yet.
Not until I’ve danced with her once.
And after that…
What would happen after that, he didn’t know.
