HST 12

Chapter 12

Rosé placed one hand over her chest and bowed her head toward Grand Duke Arteum.
“Thank you, Your Grace.”

The Grand Duke glanced at Eric, who was standing off in the distance by himself, then reached out a hand to Rosé.
“Come.”

It seemed he had noticed that Eric had no intention of escorting her. Rosé stared blankly at the Grand Duke’s outstretched hand. Watching the two of them from afar, Eric twitched his eyebrows in discomfort. Seeing the Grand Duke dare to lay a hand on what he considered his own was infuriating. How dare he touch his possession…? Eric strode over in a single step, blocked the Grand Duke, and grabbed Rosé’s left wrist.

“Ah—”

Pain shot through her wrist. The injury Eric had caused earlier throbbed sharply. Rosé bit down on her lower lip and frowned.

“You seem very interested in my woman, Your Grace.”

Eric’s voice was polite on the surface, but barbed. However, when the Grand Duke’s cold, unreadable eyes fixed on him, Eric flinched without realizing it. The Grand Duke’s gaze shifted from Eric to Rosé—more precisely, to her wrist.

She’s injured.

Rosé’s hand trembled faintly.

“It seemed to me that you were far too uninterested.”

In a flat voice, the Grand Duke seized Eric’s hand. Startled, Eric let go of Rosé’s wrist. Freed from the pain, Rosé rubbed her wrist and steadied her breathing.

“What do you think you’re doing? Let go.”

Why was he so strong? Eric tried to wrench his arm free, but couldn’t. At that moment, the Grand Duke’s eyes met Rosé’s. For some reason, he seemed to be staring intently at her wrist.

Did he notice I was hurt and do this on purpose?

Not wanting to draw attention, Rosé endured the pain without even crying out. Then she shook her head.

No way.

In the book, he wasn’t a considerate man. If anything, he was cruel and ruthless. There was no way someone like him would notice her injury—or even if he did, step in to help her like this.

“Thank you for the invitation. We’ll be leaving after enjoying ourselves with my wife.”

At last managing to knock the Grand Duke’s hand away, Eric growled, unable to hide his hostility. The Grand Duke lifted one corner of his mouth subtly and took a step closer to Eric.

“Count, you see—sometimes people must hide their claws in order to achieve their goals.”

He murmured this near Eric’s ear, then fixed him with icy eyes.

“You’re still nothing but a greenhorn.”

Eric’s eyes wavered, losing focus for a moment. Rage surged at the mocking words, but in front of the overwhelming presence of the Grand Duke, he couldn’t say a word. He only swallowed hard. The Grand Duke brushed dust from Eric’s shoulder—tap, tap—then gripped it firmly. The strength of his grasp was such that Eric nearly let out an undignified sound.

“Be careful.”

With one corner of his mouth faintly lifted, the Grand Duke muttered darkly.

“If you look at me like that again, I’ll pluck out both your eyes before anyone even notices.”

At the chill in his voice, Eric’s ears seemed to prick up. It didn’t sound like an empty threat—he truly felt as if the man would blind him without hesitation. Frozen in place, Eric couldn’t respond. The Grand Duke turned his back on him, that final warning left hanging in the air.

Only after the Grand Duke had gone did Eric finally mutter his complaint.

“Ridiculous.”

Even as he spat the curse under his breath, his face remained stiff. Though the Grand Duke had released him, pain still lingered in his shoulder. Rubbing it, Eric clenched his fist and trembled.

“He’s as good as dead anyway… I’ll let it slide.”

In truth, Eric didn’t particularly hate the Grand Duke. The only things the man cared about were women and power. But Eric wanted recognition from his parents. Just as they had killed the former emperor and empress, Eric now intended to carry on their will by killing the Grand Duke—their son. Though he had become a count, his abilities had yet to be acknowledged. If he succeeded this time, he would not only earn his parents’ approval, but also stand on his own as a true count.

After standing there for a while, Eric suddenly shot Rosé a sharp glare.

“When we get back, come see me.”

Taking his frustration out on her, he raised his voice unnecessarily before storming back into the ballroom.

“Yes, yes. Do as you please.”

Rosé muttered to herself as she looked at his retreating back with disdain, then headed into the ballroom.

As soon as she entered, her eyes widened. She had thought the count’s estate was lavish enough, but the Grand Duke’s mansion was on a completely different level. Numerous nobles were already gathered in small groups, chatting noisily. When Rosé stepped inside, they glanced at her sideways. The count paid her no attention, busy flirting with young noble ladies. No one approached her; they merely whispered among themselves.

“How did she even get here?”
“She probably trailed after the count like a little chick.”
“How pitiful. Does she really want to live like that?”
“I couldn’t. No pride at all, it seems.”

Standing alone, Rosé scanned the room, wondering whom she might talk to. But they didn’t even look her way, and if their eyes met hers, they quickly turned away as if they’d seen something they shouldn’t.

It’s harder to strike up a conversation than I thought.

Trying to approach them, Rosé felt firsthand just how unforgiving high society could be.

It’s awkward just standing here. Maybe I’ll eat something first.

She went over to a table laden with finger foods and drinks, picking up a cocktail and some food. Since today was practically her debutante moment, she had been so nervous that she hadn’t eaten properly all day.

This is good.

Chewing happily, she smiled in satisfaction. Perhaps because of the stress, she found herself craving sweets even more. Deciding it was more natural to explore the room while eating than to stand idly, she grabbed a few more desserts. Then she lifted her glass to quench her thirst—

“It’s empty.”

At some point, she’d finished it. She set the empty glass down and reached for another cocktail. Just as she was about to take it, someone held out a glass to her.

“Thank you.”

Raising her head to thank the person, Rosé stiffened when she saw his face.

Why is he here again?

The one offering the drink was the Grand Duke. Rosé felt uncomfortable around him—he frightened her, and she simply didn’t want to get involved with him. The Grand Duke, unaware of her thoughts, made no move to leave.

“Whose taste is that, I wonder.”

“Pardon? Oh, this cocktail?”

Rosé lightly swirled the drink in her hand and looked at him.

“No. Not the glass.”

He tapped her left wrist lightly with his finger. It was visibly swollen. The Grand Duke stared at it in silence.

So he knew I was hurt?

Then had he really helped her earlier? Rosé set the glass down and fiddled with her wrist. She’d been unsure, but realizing his action had truly been to help her left her flustered. Caught off guard by his unexpected kindness, she thanked him.

“Thank you for earlier. For catching me when I fell from the carriage, and…”

For helping me escape my husband’s grip. She trailed off, looking at him. There was no need to spell out her domestic situation in detail. Though he didn’t hear the rest, the Grand Duke seemed to understand. Without prying further, he smoothly changed the subject.

“How did you know the Tears of Luna were a fake?”

The sudden question caught Rosé off guard. She only knew because she’d read it in the novel. Her eyes darted around before she blurted out an answer.

“Well… the real Tears of Luna shimmer with a red glow when they reflect the light. I—I didn’t see that.”

What on earth was she saying? Embarrassed by her rambling, Rosé nervously watched his reaction.

“A red glow?”

He stared at her as if he couldn’t believe it. Under his meaningful gaze, Rosé’s heart began to pound uncontrollably. She’d only blurted out something half-remembered—yet he was looking at her like that.

Did I say something wrong?

Her heart felt like it was about to shrivel up. Forcing an awkward smile, her eyelashes trembled. The Grand Duke studied her with half-lidded eyes. She desperately wanted to escape. The lie she’d told to get through the moment felt as though it might have far-reaching consequences.

…I want to be alone.

Please. If only he would leave. But he showed no sign of going. Trembling like a fledgling bird, Rosé searched for a chance to get away. Just then, waltz music began to play. Seizing the moment, she bowed politely to him.

“Then I’ll be going now.”

At last, she thought she’d be free of him—but the moment she saw the Grand Duke holding onto her hand, Rosé realized something.

That the world never went as easily as one hoped.