🔊 TTS Settings
Chapter 19
After being slapped by Cedric, Eric felt an overwhelming urge to grab his father by the collar. He had thought that once he became a count, he would finally be free from his father’s grasp—but Cedric always treated him like a child and never handed over real authority. Believing that inheriting the title would let him live as he wished, Eric had endured it again and again. Yet the complete independence he desired never came. Forcing himself to hide his trembling arms, he muttered,
“I’ll take responsibility and see this matter through.”
“See it through? What exactly are you even capable of? Other than chasing after women, nothing at all.”
Cedric glared at Eric as if he were pathetic. To him, Eric was nothing more than a child. In his youth, Eric had been frail. A prophet had said that unless he seized power the moment he married, he was fated to die young. At the prophet’s insistence that Eric must marry before turning twenty, Cedric hurriedly married him off and even passed down the title. If only his son hadn’t stubbornly insisted on marrying Rosé—if only it weren’t for that wretched prophecy—there would have been no reason to take Rosé in as a daughter-in-law.
“Damn those Serviat bastards.”
After cursing Rosé’s family, Cedric spoke to Eric once more.
“Why on earth did you marry such a half-witted girl? Tsk. I’ll give you one month. Settle things with her immediately. I already know you’ve never truly held her in your heart.”
“…Very well.”
From one side of Eric’s chest, a spark of rebellion slithered out like a coiled snake. Though he answered obediently, his eyes gleamed with madness.
At that same time, at the Archduke of Arteum’s residence.
“You’re far more thorough than you look, my lady.”
Rosé, wearing not only a wig but also a maid’s uniform, was more than enough to surprise him.
“Yes. I didn’t think it would be good for anyone to find out that I come and go from this place.”
She brushed down her short hair that reached her shoulders as she replied.
“Isn’t it uncomfortable?”
“A little. But I’m fine. This actually puts my mind much more at ease.”
The Archduke of Arteum gazed steadily at Rosé. He had thought she resembled it—but to think she’d look this much alike.
“Is it because of the wig? She’s an exact copy.”
The image of his golden-furred pet dog, Pin, rose unbidden to mind. He overlapped Pin’s face with Rosé’s and, following the flow of his thoughts, slowly reached out and stroked her hair. Startled by his sudden touch, Rosé froze. Unlike Pin’s fluffy fur, the smooth texture of a wig met his fingertips. Realizing his mistake, the archduke quickly withdrew his hand.
“How rude of me. My apologies.”
How terribly discourteous—stroking someone’s hair out of the blue. In fact, even calling it “stroking” felt embarrassing; he’d absentmindedly ruffled it as if petting his dog.
“You resemble the one I raise.”
Yes… I could tell without you saying it. That touch was exactly how one handles a puppy. It was the first time in her life she’d ever been treated like a pet.
How similar can a person and a dog really be…
Rosé grumbled inwardly but couldn’t show it. She tidied her disheveled hair and forced a smile.
“It’s all right.”
Her awkward laugh betrayed the discomfort she couldn’t fully hide. Rummaging through her robe, Rosé began searching for something.
“Oh—found it.”
A small gift box rested in her palm, carefully wrapped.
“I meant to give this to you at the last banquet, but I didn’t get the chance.”
For Rosé, a social outcast, the Archduke of Arteum was the first person ever to invite her. This small gift was what she had prepared for him.
“I suppose I must have been quite flustered that day, to forget something so important.”
It was understandable—she had faced the archduke covered in blood right before her eyes, and then witnessed Marquis Bled’s death. The archduke looked genuinely surprised that Rosé had prepared a gift for him.
“So… this is a gift you prepared for me?”
“Yes. It’s nothing expensive, so please don’t feel burdened.”
The archduke looked momentarily stunned. In truth, he had invited Rosé solely because he was curious how she had known that Luna’s Tears were a fake—not out of any particularly noble intent.
I didn’t even invite her with good intentions, yet she brought a gift as thanks…
“You really didn’t need to.”
Murmuring softly, the archduke felt an unexpected pang of guilt. With his long lashes lowered, he stared quietly at Rosé’s hands. He was deeply moved by her thoughtfulness—but to Rosé, it looked as though he were glaring sharply at the gift in her palm. Sitting across from him, she found that gaze more than a little frightening.
Does he not like it?
Her fingers twitched under his piercing stare. Rosé glanced between the gift and the archduke. The reception room was grand beyond compare—nothing like the count’s estate—and he was its master. Compared to such splendor, her modest present suddenly felt pitiful. She wondered if someone like him would ever welcome a mid-range brand. Flushing with embarrassment, Rosé slowly withdrew the hand she’d extended toward him. Of course, it wasn’t a cheap trinket bought at a market stall—it had cost her a full eight million res—but even that might not be fitting for a royal like the Archduke of Arteum.
I should’ve chosen a more luxurious brand…
She had tried to pick something reasonable, fearing that anything too extravagant might burden him—but still.
“I’m sorry. I’ll give it to you another time.”
“Why?”
A crease formed between the archduke’s brows. He couldn’t understand why Rosé, who had just offered the gift with such a bright expression, suddenly changed her mind.
“On second thought, what I brought doesn’t seem very good.”
Fidgeting, Rosé tried to slip the gift back into her robe—but the archduke snatched it from her palm and replied flatly,
“No. I like it.”
He said it firmly, without even knowing what was inside. Before Rosé could say another word, he untied the ribbon and peeled away the wrapping paper, revealing a red box. With a soft click, he opened it. Inside was a simply designed brooch set with a blue topaz.
“A brooch.”
Turning the softly gleaming blue stone between his fingers, the archduke smiled. Though plain, it suited someone like him—who didn’t favor flashy adornments—remarkably well. Despite his satisfied smile, Rosé remained restless, more focused on inspecting his clothing than his expression. Her eyes darted over him: today, unlike his shirt unbuttoned down to the chest, his outerwear was impeccably neat, without even the most common ornament.
Come to think of it… I don’t think I’ve ever seen the archduke wear a brooch.
They’d met three times so far, and not once had she seen him wearing one. No matter how well-intentioned a gift was, if the recipient never used it, it was meaningless.
“Your Grace, do you usually wear brooches?”
“…I do.”
In truth, the archduke disliked wearing excessive decorations and never used brooches. But if he told her that now, Rosé’s large eyes would surely fill with disappointment. So he answered with a small white lie and pinned the brooch diagonally to his shirt. Watching the crooked placement, Rosé stepped closer.
“I’ll fix it for you.”
The archduke flinched slightly at her touch. It was strange—he never minded when maids touched him, yet Rosé’s hand made him inexplicably aware.
Is it… the scent?
A faint, sweet fragrance drifted from her fingertips as she grasped his shirt. The fruit-like aroma made him swallow unconsciously. Unaware of his stiffness, Rosé carefully removed the brooch so the pin wouldn’t prick him, then adjusted it neatly so it wouldn’t tilt.
“There.”
Her eyes curved into a crescent with a satisfied smile as she spoke brightly.
“Thank you for accepting my gift.”
“I should be the one thanking you.”
At his positive response, Rosé—who had been shrinking inward all this time—finally regained some confidence. Blinking her large eyes as she glanced at him, a faint smile appeared on her lips.
Maybe I should gently bring it up now.
Since he seemed to like the gift, Rosé lightly broached the subject before getting to the point.
“Your Grace, do you know what meaning topaz carries?”
“I didn’t know gemstones had meanings.”
He replied while gazing at the brooch on his shirt.
Meaning… courtship, love, something obvious like that?
Mistakenly believing that Rosé harbored feelings for him, the archduke was quite taken aback by how straightforward she seemed. Of course, the meaning of topaz had nothing to do with love or courtship. Watching the archduke draw the wrong conclusion on his own, Rosé parted her lips. Yet as she tried to speak, tension made them tremble.
Tick—tock.
In the reception room sunk into silence, only the heavy sound of the clock’s hands echoed. Why did the ticking sound so loud all of a sudden? Rosé felt every nerve in her body on edge. Her lips burned dry, and a crushing pressure tightened around her heart. She needed to speak—but the words wouldn’t come.
It wasn’t fear of the archduke that made her hesitate over explaining the meaning of topaz. The moment she spoke, she would be choosing to share the fate of a duke who might soon die. Standing at a crossroads of destiny, Rosé wavered for a long while within the raging vortex.
This was a gamble with her life.
