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Chapter 03
The reason the protagonist of Under the Rose Tree, Dylan, died could be summed up in a single sentence:
He desired something that was never meant to be his.
Namely, marriage to Daphne.
Several years ago, Dylan’s life had been saved by chance by Daphne.
From that moment on, he began to want her.
In a way, she became his life’s destination.
Dreaming only of possessing Daphne, Dylan fought his way into high society. He amassed a fortune through exceptional business skill and even purchased a new identity for himself.
At present, Dylan is known as a member of the Hyangsa family.
But it would not be long before rumors spread that the identity was a fake.
Evelyn herself had heard those rumors in the novel.
Of course, it was hardly surprising.
With many traditional noble houses having fallen into ruin and the line between nobles and wealthy commoners growing increasingly blurred, Dylan was far from the only person to buy a fallen noble title in order to enter high society.
Under different circumstances, he might actually have achieved his goal.
If only he hadn’t had a rival.
Unfortunately, Dylan’s rival was a formidable one.
His name was Rupert Mortier.
If Daphne was considered the most desirable bride in society, then Rupert was widely regarded as the most desirable groom.
At this very ball, he would fall in love with Daphne at first sight.
He would court her and compete with Dylan for her affection.
And in the process, Rupert would uncover Dylan’s past.
That was where the real problem lay.
Dylan possessed a fatal secret capable of destroying everything he had built.
A rumor that he murdered his business partner.
The story claimed that Dylan had killed his close business associate, Ryan, in order to seize control of their successful enterprise and all its profits.
It was a rumor that had followed Dylan like a shadow for years.
Until now, however, no proof had ever surfaced.
Yet Rupert would eventually uncover evidence.
Enraged by the truth, Ryan’s older brother would shoot Dylan dead.
That was how Dylan Fitzroy’s story came to an end.
Whether that evidence was genuine is impossible to know at this point.
Under the Rose Tree was told from Evelyn’s perspective.
That meant she never knew every detail.
By the time Evelyn learned the truth behind Dylan’s death, she had been bedridden and hovering between life and death herself.
The little information Daphne shared was all she ever received.
With fragments like that, there was no way to know exactly what had transpired between Dylan and Rupert.
Much less how Rupert obtained the evidence—or whether it was real in the first place.
Once they become entangled, it’ll be nearly impossible to stop what follows.
If she wanted to keep Dylan from being exposed to that danger, there was only one solution.
Prevent Rupert and Dylan from becoming rivals in the first place.
Dylan simply must not become involved with Daphne.
Fortunately, Evelyn knew exactly how to accomplish that.
By proposing to Dylan herself.
“D-Did you hear that?”
“Lady Evelyn just…!”
Evelyn had worried her voice might be too quiet.
Instead, the entire ballroom’s attention shifted toward them in an instant.
Feeling the atmosphere stir around her, Evelyn looked at the man standing before her.
A man whose perfectly tailored three-piece suit looked impossibly elegant on him.
Even the shock distorting his face couldn’t diminish his striking features.
Though it certainly couldn’t conceal his sharp temperament.
A low voice, heavy with suppressed anger, emerged from his lips.
“What exactly is this—”
“Evelyn!”
But someone called her name first.
Turning around, she saw Clarence pushing through the crowd.
His usual composed demeanor had vanished entirely.
With an expression she had never seen before, he marched toward her.
“Evelyn, would you care to explain what exactly is going on here—”
“Eve!”
Someone else arrived even faster.
Daphne.
Evelyn’s dearest friend.
Unable to contain her excitement, Daphne rushed forward with a brilliant smile and sparkling eyes before grabbing Evelyn’s hand.
Evelyn knew well that once Daphne became this excited, nobody could stop her.
“A proposal? Oh my goodness, Evelyn! That’s so romantic!”
“…Daphne.”
“How long have you been planning this? You never said a word to me! If it’s all right, you have to introduce him to me too—”
“How dreadful.”
A cold voice cut through the conversation.
Though this was only the second time she’d heard it, Evelyn instantly recognized the speaker.
Dylan Fitzroy.
Among all the men attending this ball in hopes of marrying Daphne, he was the only one who had just lost that possibility.
Because unlike others, Daphne would never choose to become trapped in a love triangle involving her best friend.
In other words, everything Dylan had worked toward had collapsed just as victory came into sight.
Crash!
The wineglass in Dylan’s hand shattered on the floor.
After shooting Evelyn a glare, he turned around and strode out of the ballroom.
The entire sequence lasted only moments.
Yet Evelyn clearly saw the contempt and anger written across his face.
Resentment sharp enough to resemble cracks splitting apart a stone cliff.
Ironically, only then did she feel her heart pounding painfully against her chest.
Only then did the reality of what she had done sink in.
And only then did she realize what she would have to face from this point forward.
Every eye in the ballroom was fixed on her.
Feeling as though she might vomit, Evelyn turned around.
Clarence was staring at her with a terrifying expression.
“Evelyn. You do realize what you’ve just done, don’t you?”
It seemed they needed to have a serious discussion.
* * *
The scandal spread through high society almost instantly.
The blue-blooded princess had proposed to society’s most notorious rebel.
And because it happened during a ball meant to find a husband for Daphne, public interest burned even hotter.
People hurried from gathering to gathering, eagerly repeating the story before the excitement could fade.
What none of them knew was that the person suffering most from the scandal was not Evelyn—
but Dylan himself.
With an irritated motion, Dylan loosened his necktie and tossed it onto the desk in his office.
The black-haired man spoke coldly.
“Noel, has there been any response from the Primrose family?”
“I delivered your message as instructed, sir. However… there has been no further reply.”
“They still haven’t come to their senses.”
Several days had passed since the Whitewood ball.
Dylan’s face, intimidating even on a normal day, had become so cold that it would not have seemed strange if he stabbed someone where he stood.
His tall frame, broad shoulders, and naturally icy appearance already made him difficult to approach.
Now even Noel, the secretary who had served him for years, found himself carefully measuring every word.
As far as Noel could remember, Dylan had not been this irritable since the year he spent seven straight nights without sleep.
Still, anyone who knew the circumstances would understand.
The only time the boss ever seemed remotely human was when he talked about marriage.
Everyone close to Dylan knew he loved someone.
Though whether it could truly be called love was often debated.
Noel personally believed it was.
He remembered a conversation he’d had with a colleague.
“Noel, I need to speak with the boss. Why exactly did he buy this estate? Even the Imperial Family sold it because it was too expensive to maintain. What are we supposed to do with it? And why buy a rose plantation and vineyard too?”
“He said he’d use the roses and grapes when he proposed. The estate is supposed to be the wedding venue.”
“…Is he out of his mind?”
The company’s accountant had looked completely stunned after hearing that.
He already knew his employer had long intended to marry.
What he hadn’t expected was for Dylan’s wedding plans to consume money on the scale of a major business venture.
The man had walked away muttering that Dylan must have lost his mind.
But Noel, who had stood beside Dylan when the estate was purchased, could never bring himself to say such a thing.
Because he remembered exactly what Dylan had said.
“From here to there, fill everything with roses.”
“If we’re holding the wedding in summer, we’ll need only the finest grapes.”
“I just hope she’ll like it.”
Whenever Dylan imagined the wedding venue in his mind, he looked alive.
As though those moments were the only times he truly lived.
