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Chapter 02
Damian, who had given only the briefest bow as the minimum courtesy owed to royalty, spoke to Aiden.
“Your Highness, if it would not be too much trouble, would you return my younger sister’s hand to me? I’ve actually been waiting to claim her second dance since earlier.”
“Ah, Young Lord Rowen. If it’s you, then I have no choice but to let Iela go.”
With an easy smile, Aiden handed my hand over to Damian.
After bowing once more to the Crown Prince, Damian turned away, taking me with him.
His silk-gloved hand gripped mine—also gloved—tightly.
It wasn’t enough to draw attention from others, but it was more than strong enough to clearly convey his intentions to me.
Damian was irritated.
I had no idea why. I had done exactly as Father ordered—danced with Aiden and even accepted his request.
Though it had been a request I hadn’t wanted to accept, if Damian hadn’t appeared, I would have danced a second time with Aiden.
That was what Father wanted, after all.
Damian and Iswen had always shared Father’s views.
So shouldn’t he have been pleased to see me with Aiden?
Confused, I followed Damian toward the edge of the ballroom, my shoes biting painfully into my heels.
Like my dress, they had been specially made according to Father’s wishes.
Only when we reached the edge of the hall did Damian finally turn around.
“Once the dance is over, you’re supposed to let go of his hand. What were you doing just standing there? Did you only half-learn your manners?”
But the one trying to ignore etiquette hadn’t been me—it had been Aiden.
I was about to say so when Damian seized my wrist.
He dragged me along as though hauling luggage and took me somewhere else.
It was the last remaining terrace attached to the ballroom.
Throwing open the terrace door, he ordered sharply,
“Stay in here instead of wasting your time with useless people.”
Then he grabbed one of the servants attending outside.
“You. Make sure no one enters this terrace.”
“Yes, sir. I will attend to the young lady properly.”
The servant bowed quickly, clearly familiar with Damian’s infamous temper, known throughout the capital.
Only then did Damian leave.
Though he kept glancing back repeatedly, as if something still displeased him.
Suddenly, I wondered what he would say if he ran into Aiden again.
Aiden was surely still in the center of the ballroom, so while he probably hadn’t seen exactly where Damian had taken me, he would at least know we hadn’t danced at all.
With his personality, he’d definitely say something with a smile.
…No. Better not think about it.
For all the chaos Damian caused, he somehow managed to clean up after himself.
So he’d figure it out.
As I stepped further into the terrace, the servant scurried in after me.
Before he could light the lamps, I stopped him.
“Bring me a drink first.”
“Yes, my lady.”
I wasn’t particularly thirsty, but I wanted to be alone, even if only for a little while.
That was also why I didn’t want the terrace lit.
When someone entered the terrace, lighting the lamps wasn’t just for convenience—it was also meant to signal to those in the ballroom whether someone was inside.
Sharp-eyed people could identify who was there from the faintest shadow.
Or they simply watched who entered in the first place and paid attention afterward.
I wanted to avoid people’s eyes as much as possible.
Left alone, the terrace was quiet.
I walked to the railing and looked up at the night sky, where stars shimmered softly through the darkness.
The cool autumn air brushed against my cheeks.
For the first time all evening, the suffocating pressure in my chest eased a little.
Even the painful pressure of my shoes on my heels faded somewhat.
Perhaps because I knew this darkness would disappear once the servant returned, it felt especially comforting.
The noise of the ballroom, filtered through the closed doors, sounded distant.
I was quietly savoring that sense of distance when I heard the terrace door open.
Startled, I turned around.
A tall man stood there, one hand on the doorknob.
I hadn’t expected anyone to enter so quickly, and panic rose in me.
The man, too, seemed not to have expected anyone inside.
He stopped abruptly.
Though his face was hidden in shadow, his awkwardness was obvious.
“…My apologies.”
His voice, low enough to be pleasant, trembled slightly.
It seemed there was more to his reaction than simple surprise at finding someone in an unlit terrace.
He had probably come outside to catch his breath.
In fact, quite a few people used the terraces for that exact reason.
The problem was that there were no empty terraces left.
I already knew that from being dragged here by Damian earlier.
After hesitating, I spoke.
“You may stay for a little while, if you’d like.”
It wasn’t as though I had chosen to be here.
If Damian hadn’t forced me here so stubbornly, this man might have had the terrace to himself.
He must also have known there were no empty terraces, because after a brief hesitation, he bowed.
“Then I will gratefully impose for a moment.”
Click.
The door shut.
The man stepped inside and took a place by the railing a short distance away from me.
Though it was too dark to see clearly, his outline suggested he was around my age.
His forehead looked smooth and unlined, and his voice from earlier had sounded very young.
Aside from his youth, he also seemed quite handsome.
His eyes were sleek and deep-set, while the lines that shaped his face—his jaw and nose—were distinct.
His hair and eyes were dark enough to appear black in the shadows.
And most importantly—
He was not a face I recognized.
That was surprising, since I had memorized most of the noble families in the capital.
Though the Harvest Festival banquet was grand enough that nobles from other regions attended, the man’s accent had been as soft as that of someone from the capital.
Not knowing him wasn’t necessarily a problem.
After all, this was only temporary.
Just as I turned my head away so he wouldn’t feel uncomfortable, I remembered that the servant would soon return to light the lamps.
If that happened, my being alone here with an unfamiliar man would be revealed.
“You. Make sure no one enters this terrace.”
Damian had definitely ordered that.
There was no way he’d be pleased if word reached him that I had been alone with a man I didn’t know.
And it wouldn’t just be me he’d lash out at—he’d direct his temper at everyone involved.
I didn’t want to burden this man, who had merely sought refuge from his own troubles, with something even worse: Damian Rowen’s temper.
Opening the terrace door, I saw the servant returning just then with a fruit drink.
“Give that to me. There’s no need to light the lamps, so you may go.”
“Yes, my lady.”
Leaving behind the unsuspecting servant, I returned to the terrace.
The man was watching me.
Perhaps because of the darkness, his gaze seemed deeper—fixed precisely on me.
Feeling oddly self-conscious, I explained,
“I told him there was no need for lights. If the terrace is bright, people can see the shadows of those inside.”
The man was silent for a moment before inclining his head slightly.
“Thank you.”
He seemed to think I had kept the terrace dark for his sake.
“No, it’s all right. I wanted to stay in the dark tonight too.”
Without replying, he looked at me quietly.
Then he removed the garment draped over his shoulders and approached.
A jacket, still warm with his body heat, settled over my shoulders.
His voice—already so striking—followed.
“I heard this would be considered chilly weather by the capital’s standards.”
“Thank you.”
With a slight bow, he stepped back again.
Though somehow, the distance between us felt smaller than before.
Still, it remained a distance neither burdensome nor improper.
Perhaps because my bare shoulders were now covered instead of exposed to the cold, warmth rose faintly to my face.
My heart seemed to beat a little faster too.
I was glad it was a dark autumn night with cool air.
Otherwise, he surely would have noticed my flushed cheeks.
With no topic to bridge the silence, quiet naturally settled between us.
Before that silence could become awkward, I carefully asked,
“Um… if it’s not too rude to ask… are you from somewhere other than the capital?”
His accent had been gentle enough to sound almost like a capital noble’s, but the way he specifically referred to the capital’s standards made me wonder.
“I come from the land where white winds blow.”
The land where white winds blow—
That was a poetic way of referring to the North.
Raslet.
At once, the name of the northern noble house currently staying in the Imperial Palace came to mind.
There were many noble families in the North, but Raslet was one family I absolutely could not become entangled with.
If there had been light, I could have read the crest engraved on his accessories.
But in this darkness, we could barely make out each other’s faces.
Then—
The man, who had been watching me, finally spoke.
