🔊 TTS Settings
Chapter 02 …
Diarin Conclester.
After stepping into a secluded area, she shrugged her shoulders slightly.
The ways of the world were truly impossible to predict.
Who could ever have imagined that Ezet—once so lowly—would return as such a magnificent hero?
Not the Emperor, not Diarin herself, and certainly not her adoptive father, Duke Concle.
Thanks to that, she now had to stand here draped in jewels from head to toe, trying to win Ezet’s favor.
Still, Diarin thought the process itself had not been entirely unpleasant.
At the very least, she had been able to see with her own eyes that Ezet was alive and unharmed.
Yes, at least she had seen that much…
The thoughts lingering briefly in Diarin’s mind did not last long.
The reason was simple.
“You look no different from a prostitute, Lady Diarin Conclester.”
Even at the openly insulting voice, Diarin smiled out of habit. Yet even then, she found herself wondering:
If she was called a prostitute while wrapped up this tightly, what would people say if she wore a dress that revealed even a little cleavage like a ballroom gown?
In any case—
Just by looking at the man blocking her path and glaring at her murderously, she could tell exactly how much Ezet’s status had changed.
“Marquis Angelo.”
“So you didn’t hear me when I told you to surrender the position of the Eighth Prince’s fiancée to my daughter?”
The elderly Marquis Angelo’s face overflowed with greed and fury. He looked like a filthy parasite drooling before prey.
The fact that he had waited in the Imperial Palace carriage station only to drag the passing Diarin into his carriage and threaten her made that perfectly obvious.
‘If he personally came all the way here…’
It seemed he had long since sold away whatever remained of noble dignity. He must have been truly desperate.
The marquis’s pot-lid-sized hand gripped Diarin’s wrist violently.
“My daughter is a refined lady beloved by Her Majesty the Empress. She cannot even be compared to a fallen branch-family orphan like you. If you don’t withdraw while I’m asking nicely—”
“Yes.”
“…Yes?”
“Yes. You heard correctly. I’ll simply step aside.”
Diarin answered obediently.
For a moment, Marquis Angelo looked stunned, as though he thought he had misheard her.
Without disturbing her smile even slightly, Diarin continued.
“As soon as I leave the palace today, I’ll return to the Concle territory. I dislike a fiancé whose face I cannot even see. As you know, I was born with equal-blood lineage.”
“…Are you serious?”
“Of course, Marquis Angelo.”
Of course she was lying.
But if necessary, Diarin could tell this kind of lie a hundred more times without blinking an eye.
There was no need to risk provoking his anger while trapped alone together. Escaping the carriage and reaching safety came first.
It seemed Marquis Angelo regained his senses only after a long pause.
“…For an orphan, you understand quickly. You know your place too.”
“Thank you.”
Satisfied by her obedient answer, Marquis Angelo released her wrist.
Though Diarin had not expected him to grab her again just as she tried to leave the carriage.
Suppressing the sudden wave of disgust with practiced ease, she asked gently:
“Do you still have something to say, Marquis Angelo?”
“Even if I trust you, I can’t trust Duke Concle.”
‘And what exactly am I supposed to do about that?’
Duke Concle was a gloomy, eccentric man whom even Diarin struggled to handle. Even Marquis Angelo himself could not behave recklessly in front of Duke Concle.
“Duke Concle is a filthy villain, isn’t he? I suppose I should ruin that pretty face of yours a little. This marquis will help ensure Duke Concle can never use you again as a tool for political marriage.”
Marquis Angelo pulled out the sharp jeweled spike he always carried hidden on his person and moved to slash Diarin’s face—
Then suddenly screamed.
“GRAAAH!”
His groin.
His groin had been kicked directly.
Had the angle been even slightly different, Marquis Angelo might never have enjoyed women again.
For one brief moment, he found himself relieved that this lowborn branch-family girl was wearing a long skirt.
Otherwise, his precious parts truly might have been destroyed completely.
Then relief gave way to overwhelming fury.
“You trashy bitch!”
At the exact moment Marquis Angelo grabbed Diarin by the collar—
Bang!
The carriage door flew open.
As though frozen by magic, Marquis Angelo stopped moving.
Creeeak.
A pair of chillingly cold golden eyes stood there.
Ezet Asperk Kirchen.
The prince Marquis Angelo had greedily tried to pair with his daughter.
The moment Ezet saw the scene inside the carriage, his brow furrowed.
“What exactly are you doing?”
“Y-Your Highness, the E-Eighth Prince…”
“Have you lost your mind?”
Though Ezet was merely young enough to be his son, the freezing aura pouring from him left Marquis Angelo unable to think straight.
“T-That is…! Gghk!”
Marquis Angelo could not even finish speaking.
Someone had seized the back of his neck and dragged him straight out of the carriage.
Despite the marquis’s massive build, the Eighth Prince hauled him out as casually as though shaking around a paper doll.
“Ack! Aaaagh!”
Outside the carriage, Marquis Angelo’s screams rang continuously. Soon came the humiliating sound of the marquis sobbing loudly, followed by the thunder of Imperial guards rushing over.
A short while later—
“Lady Diarin.”
Ezet returned to the carriage and extended his hand toward her.
To be honest, Diarin was surprised.
She had not expected him to come back.
Still, she took Ezet’s hand.
Perhaps because Diarin’s own hands were always so cold, Ezet’s warmth felt strikingly comforting.
Then another question surfaced in her mind.
‘How did he even come to this carriage? And why did he save me?’
Unlike her thoughts, the proper words emerged smoothly.
“Thank you, Your Highness.”
Ezet glanced toward Diarin.
To her, Ezet’s face still remained invisible.
An indistinct surface blurred as though covered in water mist. Only his eyes floated faintly within it.
A brief silence.
Then—
“You always…”
‘Always?’
Ezet did not finish the sentence.
He merely stared directly into Diarin’s eyes.
Pale violet eyes that looked as though precious jewels had been embedded within them.
Even those who despised Diarin for being Duke Concle’s puppet could never deny her extraordinary beauty.
Was that not precisely why Duke Concle had singled her out among so many branch-family noble girls and adopted her?
But such things were meaningless to Ezet.
Her appearance had never once mattered to him.
Only those dawn-colored eyes.
Only the measured distance she always kept from him.
Only that gaze which clearly knew nothing.
That alone mattered.
Ezet finally spoke.
“You stare at my face quite intently.”
“Ah… My apologies, Your Highness.”
Diarin hurriedly averted her gaze.
It was a common mistake among those born with equal-blood lineage.
Because they could not properly see the faces of royalty, they often ended up staring blankly as though trying to navigate thick fog.
After silently watching Diarin for a moment, Ezet’s gaze returned forward.
Then he spoke again.
“I heard you suddenly left the territory.”
“Ah, yes.”
“Did you truly need to leave so abruptly?”
“Well… my health suddenly became quite poor.”
Honestly, it was an absurd excuse.
The Northern Gate Stone territory protected by Ezet was one of the largest domains in the vast empire.
Though it lay in the far north where terrible snowstorms struck during winter, it was far from underdeveloped—a city so prestigious that countless legitimate nobles longed to reside there.
“Did you dislike Northern Gate Stone, or did you dislike the political marriage?”
“…Pardon?”
“Was it both?”
Caught off guard by the unexpected question, Diarin hesitated.
At this Ceremony of Deposition where everyone wore masks upon masks, Diarin spoke honestly for perhaps the first time.
“Neither.”
Ezet quietly looked at her.
She could sense his gaze, though she still could not tell what expression he wore.
Whether he believed her or not, it was the truth.
Diarin had nothing more she could say.
Then Ezet shifted his gaze slightly and muttered:
“You must have had your reasons.”
“….”
Diarin’s heart stirred like bubbles rising suddenly to the surface.
She parted her lips weakly, then closed them again.
She knew the hostility shown toward her by Ramd, the red-haired knight constantly guarding Ezet.
Surely everyone in Northern Gate Stone hated her the same way.
So she had prepared herself for Ezet to hate her too.
And yet…
Why…?
“Lady Diarin.”
“…Yes, Your Highness.”
“Not a week from now. I’ll send a carriage in three days.”
“…What?”
“So let us move our appointment forward to then.”
After escorting Diarin back to the crowded area, Ezet released her hand.
Duke Concle wore a satisfied expression.
“So Marquis Angelo—that dog who doesn’t know his place—dared try to damage your face? I already handed him over to the Imperial Guard.”
There was not the slightest concern in Duke Concle’s voice about the fact that Diarin had nearly been harmed.
Instead, he scanned her appearance with satisfaction.
“To think the one who rescued you happened to be the Eighth Prince himself. Dressing you up beautifully today was worth it. Perhaps things are finally going well.”
As Ezet’s knight had suspected, Duke Concle had deliberately brought Diarin here with intent.
The black velvet dress suited to the gloomy atmosphere of the deposition ceremony was the finest garment Diarin had worn in recent memory.
Today she was beautiful.
Beautiful, yet pale enough to resemble a ghost.
The faint black lace veil attached to her hat contrasted sharply against her bloodless complexion.
Duke Concle asked:
“Putting the carriage incident aside, what did you speak about with the Eighth Prince during the ceremony?”
The duke was an extremely suspicious man.
He had undoubtedly planted spies around Diarin and already heard fragments of their conversation.
Yet he still asked to test her.
Knowing this perfectly well, Diarin answered obediently.
“I apologized to His Highness for the foolishness of my past self. And I reminded him of a memory from two years ago.”
“A memory?”
“Yes. Two years ago—the very day before His Highness disappeared—was his birthday. I promised then that I would prepare a gift for him. Fortunately, he still remembered.”
“Was that so.”
Interest flickered in Duke Concle’s eyes.
