Chapter 02

Lauren stood in front of the mansion. The coachman who had set her trunk down beside her hurried back into the carriage and left as if fleeing. The sounds of hooves and wheels rolling over stone gradually faded away. Only after the noise disappeared completely did she shut her eyes tightly and take a deep breath.

It wasn’t the first time she had seen it, yet the mansion was still astonishingly enormous. The baron’s estate where she had lived her entire life looked as though several of them could fit inside this place. The white bricks covering the outer walls reflected the afternoon sunlight, glowing gold. The old, grand mansion was beautiful, but somehow it also looked gloomy and unsettling.

She pressed the bell attached to one side of the iron gate. Though she had prepared herself, the sharp sound still startled her. Just as she unconsciously stepped back, the front door opened and a middle-aged man with black hair emerged.

It was Calvin Steward, the mansion’s butler.

“Welcome, my lady. Had you informed us beforehand, we would have gone to receive you.”

At Calvin’s polite greeting, Lauren shook her head with a stiff smile. A servant following behind him picked up her trunk. Remembering how embarrassingly light it was, Lauren bit her lip silently. But she couldn’t very well carry it herself. Letting out a sigh quiet enough not to be noticed, she followed the servant and Calvin into the mansion.

Behind her, the heavy doors shut with a loud thud.

The inside of the mansion was dark. From outside, it had looked as though there were many windows, but perhaps because all the curtains were drawn—or because climbing vines had been left covering them—it felt dimmer. Maybe it was simply because the outside had been so bright. It wasn’t pitch-black, but her eyes still needed time to adjust.

“I’ll show you the room prepared for you first, my lady.”

After climbing the stairs and walking down a hallway, Calvin stopped in front of a room. When he opened the door, a spacious sitting room appeared. The servant placed Lauren’s trunk neatly in a corner before bowing and leaving. Calvin opened another door connected to the sitting room.

“The bedroom is this way. The dressing room and bath are over there. These two will attend to your needs.”

Two servants dressed in long uniforms bowed toward Lauren. When she asked their names, the one with long straw-colored hair braided on both sides introduced herself as Anna, while the short-haired servant with reddish-brown hair said her name was Lize.

“The master requested that you join him for dinner this evening.”

Lauren took out her pocket watch, checked the time, and nodded. Fortunately, there was still time to rest before dinner. Calvin said he would come escort her at seven and withdrew.

She removed her hat with a sigh. A thick braid of jet-black hair slipped loose.

“I’d like to rest for a little while…”

“Then we’ll return when it’s time for you to prepare.”

Anna and Lize set out a tea service in front of her, bowed with their skirts spread, and left. Even the hems of their dresses disappeared through the doorway.

At last, she was alone.

Lauren exhaled softly. Her shoulders ached, perhaps from tension. She nearly collapsed onto the long chair and loosened the buttons of her jacket.

I should unpack the trunk.

But she was too exhausted to think about doing anything. She didn’t even have the strength to lift a teacup. The journey from the remote countryside baron’s estate where she had lived to the great city—and beyond that, to the duke’s residence built on vast land personally granted by an emperor generations ago—had been unimaginably long.

It had only been six months since her parents died in a carriage accident.

There had been no time to grieve.

Her uncle took away the baronial title her father had held. Not only the title, but also the small territory and estate—everything that should have gone to her was stolen. The only daughter who had once been cherished by the entire baron’s family lost everything.

The room her mother had lovingly decorated and her beautiful dresses were taken by her cousin. Lauren was given a cramped attic room once used by an apprentice servant. Clothes had been thrown her way for appearances’ sake, but all of them were worn out.

The clothes she wore now were no different.

Even when she had first come to meet the duke.

To city people, she must have looked laughably shabby, and she could only be grateful that the butler and maids never showed it.

The worst part came later.

Her uncle wasn’t satisfied with merely taking the title.

Lauren had nearly been sold off to remarry some wealthy old man in the countryside. Was she supposed to become his third wife? Or fourth?

He had continued taking wives because he wanted a son, but every one of them died after childbirth. Even then, all he had gotten were daughters.

Remembering that, Lauren hunched her shoulders and sighed.

The money from selling her off, her uncle had said, would become a dowry to marry her female cousin into a higher-ranking family, and would help place her male cousin into the knight order.

Still lying on the chaise, Lauren stretched one hand toward the ceiling. The thin platinum ring on her fourth finger glimmered under the light.

That day, instead of an engagement ring, she had received this simple, delicate band.

Even for Lauren, it had been unexpected that the duke accepted her proposal.

Before Anna and Lize returned, Lauren took out the most respectable outfit she owned from the trunk and changed. As she dressed, she recalled the day she first arrived at the ducal house.

Before they parted, the duke had smiled faintly and offered his hand.

A confident smile with one corner of his mouth slightly higher than the other.

His hand had been large and warm.

It was the sort of hand more suited to holding a sword than a pen.

“Oh my, forgive us, my lady. It seems we’re late.”

Apparently, her subconscious had answered the knock. Anna and Lize stood there with widened eyes, hurrying to help prepare her.

“No, it’s alright. I started a bit early.”

In truth, she simply didn’t want them to notice how pitiful her belongings were, but Lauren merely smiled.

Anna sat her down and brushed her hair from behind, while Lize carefully smoothed wrinkles from her jacket.

“You truly have beautiful hair, my lady.”

Anna admired the jet-black hair that reached below Lauren’s waist as she gently combed through it.

“Thank you.”

Lauren smiled back through the mirror, but inwardly frowned slightly at the unfamiliar title of my lady.

Her black hair had always been her mother’s pride.

Most people in the empire had light-colored hair. But Lauren had inherited her father’s jet-black hair, and her mother—who considered it beautiful—had always brushed it herself.

Even on the day of the carriage accident.

A tear she had never shed before slipped down her cheek.

Startled, Lauren quickly wiped it away.

Anna and Lize were good servants.

Surely, they had seen the tears streaming down her face, yet neither said anything.

It had already been six months.

To cry now…

Perhaps it was because her tension had finally eased. Because she had successfully escaped the baron’s household.

And because Anna’s gentle hands brushing her hair resembled her mother’s.

She needed to calm down.

Soon, she would have to meet the duke.

Lauren took a deep breath.

Something was suddenly offered beside her. Turning her head, she saw Lize holding out a towel soaked in cold water.

“Place it over your eyes.”

Her voice was soft.

Lauren nodded slightly and accepted it.

She was grateful they asked nothing.

Leaning back in the chair, she laid the cold cloth over her eyes.

For some reason, the tears kept coming.

Until the chilled towel gradually felt warm.

While Lauren cried silently, the two women quietly continued their work.

After a long while, once she calmed down, Lize dusted powder around her reddened eyes. Whether from skill or experience, her face looked perfectly composed afterward—as though she had never cried.

“Thank you,” Lauren murmured.

Lize waved her hands dismissively.

“It’s nothing at all.”

Someone knocked on the door.

It seemed the time had already come.

Drawing a deep breath, Lauren rose.

Anna opened the door.

Waiting outside was Calvin, the butler.

“Have a pleasant evening, my lady. We’ll prepare your bathwater.”

“Thank you.”

After thanking them once more, Lauren followed Calvin.

Though the lamps were brightly lit, the corridor somehow still felt dark.

As if an unerasable shadow had been carved into it.

It wasn’t even late enough for darkness yet.

Lauren’s gaze drifted toward the heavy curtains covering the windows.

If those were pulled open, sunlight would surely pour in.

Whose preference were those curtains?

That person—bright as the sun—seemed more suited to somewhere filled with light than anyone else.

How long had they walked?

Calvin stopped before a door.

It looked no different from any other in the hallway.

When he knocked, a low voice answered from within.

The one waiting for her inside was likely Duke Lilywood.

Perhaps because it was their first meeting since that day, Lauren felt strangely nervous.

She cleared her throat quietly and straightened her back.

Sensing Calvin’s gaze, she gave a slight nod.

Beyond the door stood a modest-sized table.

And on top of it was a meal far too sparse to be called a banquet—food arranged only to meet appearances.

Calvin pulled out the chair opposite the duke, and Lauren sat carefully.

After pouring red wine into the glasses before them, Calvin bowed and withdrew.

Now, they were alone.

There was nowhere to run.

Lauren quietly looked at the man seated opposite her.

His gaze rested on the food before him, cold and distant.

Impossible though it was, he looked as though he were staring at poisoned food.

“Eat.”

After watching it for a long moment, he finally spoke.

Lauren bowed her head lightly and tasted the meal.

Though plain in appearance, the meat and vegetables—seasoned with spices she had never seen in the baron’s household—were of excellent quality and truly delicious.

But it seemed Duke Lilywood did not feel the same.

Without moving a finger, he merely continued staring at the food.