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Chapter 52
A brief silence passed.
‘Why on earth did he lock the door?’
Damia stared straight at the man, determined to discern Vasili’s intentions.
His eyes carried a peculiar curiosity. It wasn’t affection, but more like observing a skillful insect.
“……”
Like most people in power, he was skilled at using silence as a weapon.
Ultimately, it fell to the weaker party—Damia—to break this suffocating tension.
“Your Highness, I apologize for disturbing your rest. Had I known you were here, I would never have dared to enter.”
“……”
“I’ll leave so you can be alone. Please forgive me if I caused any discomfort.”
“It’s not that I was displeased. I may have given you the wrong impression.”
His gentle voice slid into her ears. Vasili pulled a handkerchief from inside his coat.
“I can’t just watch a lady wander around with something on her face. I happen to be more of a gentleman than I look.”
Before she could react, his gloved hand suddenly cupped her chin.
The texture of the leather was distinct, and the soft fabric slowly wiped her cheek.
A heavy, sweet scent wafted to her nose, similar to Drury’s perfume.
“Looks like wine. Can one really drink it already? You look so young, though.”
Even knowing why Damia was tense, his cheerful tone implied it was just the stain that bothered him.
“Thank you, Your Highness.”
The rumors that Crown Prince Vasili was unusually gentle for a royal were true—but this was excessive kindness.
For a prince to personally wipe the cheek of a young lady he had just met.
‘Why is everyone so eager to look out for me today?’
Damia took a careful step back, maintaining her smile.
Though trying not to show it, her cheek twitched slightly.
“You don’t look very grateful.”
“Th-That’s… not the case.”
“You resemble my younger sister a bit.”
“Th-That’s flattering, Your Highness.”
“Really. You’re perceptive, yet you pretend not to know things at first. Is it fear, or cleverness?”
Vasili’s younger sister was the youngest princess, Seraphina.
The emperor doted on her so much that there were rumors he might amend the succession law just for her.
Yet no one seriously predicted Seraphina as the next emperor, as she was naturally frail.
‘Why are so many people suddenly mentioning younger sisters today?’
After Cassian, now Vasili. A treatment she had never wished for.
“Your name is Damia, right? The only daughter of Viscount Ponti?”
“It’s an honor that Your Highness knows even about our humble family.”
“You’re engaged to Viscount Sarkis, aren’t you? You might become the lady of a family hailed as the Empire’s shield. I couldn’t possibly not know.”
He returned the handkerchief gently, and Damia’s gaze followed the piece of white cloth unconsciously.
The corner of the handkerchief was embroidered with the Soro Marquess crest.
The scent—like Drury’s—emanating from him was no illusion.
‘Did he have some connection with Drury?’
Her mind grew tangled with speculation.
“I was about to head back. Do you need an escort?”
“N-No! I’m fine.”
“You don’t have to refuse, you know.”
“Really, I’m fine. I cannot impose further on Your Highness.”
Being the fiancée of Viscount Sarkis already drew plenty of attention. Any more, and trouble would follow.
She also felt uneasy that Vasili might be close to Drury.
“It’s truly regrettable… but there’s nothing I can do.”
Vasili replied deliberately slowly. He didn’t immediately turn, but continued staring at her.
Damia’s heart raced as if struck by love at first sight.
But it wasn’t a pleasant thrill.
It was more like the fear of a prey animal facing a predator.
Even after leaving the guest room, Romie hadn’t returned.
“Have you seen a maid? Brown hair, about my height.”
Damia caught a passing maid.
“Do you mean Romie?”
“Ah, yes. You know each other?”
“Romie used to work here. We were somewhat close. She went out earlier and hasn’t returned yet.”
“I see.”
“She looked unwell, so I wanted to follow, but she insisted I leave her alone, quite irritably.”
The maid sighed as if troubled. Damia narrowed her eyes.
No matter how sick Romie felt, she wouldn’t just vanish on her own.
“You should return to the ballroom quickly—the dance will start soon. Earlier, the butler insisted that no guest be left unattended.”
“And Romie…”
“She’ll find her way back. I’ll tell her the lady was looking for her.”
The maid spoke politely.
“You don’t want to get separated unnecessarily, Miss. Go ahead inside first.”
The maid was right. Searching for Romie in this vast mansion would be inefficient.
Besides, Drury’s insistence on waiting also concerned her.
“Then I’ll leave it to you.”
“Don’t worry.”
Damia entered the ballroom to assess the situation.
As the doors opened, the chandelier lights blazed brighter than sunlight, flooding her vision with white light.
Damia quickly scanned the crowd. Fortunately—or unfortunately—Crown Prince Vasili was nowhere in sight.
“Oh my, Damia. Are you feeling better?”
A group of noble ladies approached.
Having held her place as the fiancée of the viscount for a while, their gazes mixed curiosity with a touch of goodwill.
“Yes, thanks to your concern. The guest room was really beautiful.”
She didn’t remember the flowers that filled it, but laughed it off naturally.
“That’s good to hear. By the way, Damia, could you get me more of the sachets you gave me last time?”
“Yes! I haven’t been sleeping well recently, but having one by my pillow helps me sleep.”
Her small bribes and groundwork had worked.
‘Good. Just as planned.’
As Damia was about to reply, a piercing gaze landed on the back of her head.
Turning, she saw Drury standing in the center of the ballroom, staring straight at her.
Drury lifted one eyebrow slightly—not in anger, but in curiosity.
‘Is she surprised that I returned unharmed? Could it be… no, it can’t be.’
As Damia frowned, Drury turned away, apparently losing interest.
Then she gestured to the conductor.
The gentle music suddenly stopped as if it had lied.
The unexpected silence made the bustling guests fall quiet one by one.
“Please pay attention.”
Marquess Soro broke the silence, walking to the center of the ballroom.
His broad shoulders betrayed pride he could not hide.
Today, he looked as confident as a king.
“Actually, today, on my daughter’s coming-of-age, I wish to announce a family celebration.”
His voice immediately commanded the ballroom.
“Not just the Soro family, but one could say it’s a celebration for the Velotea Empire as well.”
For a seasoned noble, it was excessively bold and arrogant.
Yet his sharp features betrayed no hesitation or doubt.
“Now!”
The enormous doors of the ballroom, long closed, began to open once again.
Everyone held their breath, watching.
Creak.
The hall was so silent that even the sound of hinges echoed loudly.
Damia swallowed dryly.
Her fingertips were already cold from unknown tension.
“His Imperial Highness, the First Prince of the Empire, Vasili Velotea, will enter!”
Through the opening, noon sunlight poured in like a waterfall.
Yet the man who walked in outshone even the sun.
Hair like molten gold, and eyes even more piercingly radiant.
Every gaze in the hall fixed on him.
