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Chapter 03
Rye had stepped halfway onto the balcony but froze awkwardly when he spotted Eva.
“Please, come in.”
Eva spoke without even looking at him. As soon as she gave her permission, Rye stepped fully inside, and Eva tried to leave the balcony immediately. Startled, he raised a hand to block her path.
“Where are you going?”
“I was going to leave so you could stay.”
“I didn’t mean for you to leave.”
“Oh, I didn’t mean I’d stay here with you either.”
The longer they stayed together, the more it felt like she was taking the shortcut to the executioner’s block. She didn’t feel safe. But he still didn’t lower his hand from in front of her.
“There’s no need. I’ll leave first after just a moment.”
He glanced toward the hall inside. Following his gaze, Eva also caught the sound of other young ladies and gentlemen chattering.
“I was so startled, you have no idea how hard I tried not to make eye contact.”
“I was terrified you’d get angry if we messed up the steps, so I danced stiff as a board.”
“Ladies, you must’ve been scared. Who could have guessed a man who only knows how to use his body would come to a debutante ball?”
Though they hadn’t named him, it was obvious they meant Rye.
Even though he was the male lead in the novel, he wasn’t loved by everyone.
Long ago, the Castro family had been barons—a lineage of knights sworn to protect the royal family.
Through generations of skill and loyalty, they had risen to the rank of commander of the knights, and their service—risking their lives for the royal family—had eventually been rewarded with a dukedom. But other nobles never accepted it.
A lowly baron suddenly becoming a duke stirred nothing but jealousy. Even though they had been dukes far longer now than barons, that label still clung to them.
That eyebrow scar didn’t help either.
The cherished children of noble houses had no scars—neither on their faces nor on their bodies. Their looks were part of their wealth and honor. In every way, Rye was the opposite of a “proper” noble, and the contempt toward him only grew stronger with time.
Eva could easily picture what kind of treatment he had received in the hall before stepping out to the balcony.
It was pitiful, yes—but that didn’t mean she had to stay with him.
“You stay here. I’ll leave.”
When Eva tried to step aside, Rye lowered his hand but blocked her with his body.
“I had no intention of taking your spot. I’ll leave after five minutes.”
Even in this situation, Rye was showing the stubborn, by-the-book nature of a knight commander.
“I just want to spare you the trouble.”
“…If my appearance offends you, I’ll leave right away.”
Misunderstanding her, Rye hastily raised his hand to cover the scar at the end of his eyebrow.
It was an act of consideration—worried she might find him frightening like the people inside did.
Eva felt anger welling up at the sight.
She was disgusted by the people who whispered behind his back but said nothing to his face, and just as disgusted with Rye for never speaking up to them.
In my past life, you had no problem throwing cold words at me, so why can’t you say a single thing to those jerks?
“I thought you’d be different because you’re the knight commander, but you’re nothing special.”
Unable to hold it in, Eva finally spoke her mind. Rye’s expression hardened instantly.
“What did you just say?”
“Do you think ignoring it and pretending you didn’t hear will make it go away? Do you think they’ll stop talking?”
“This is my way of dealing with it.”
“That’s cowardly.”
Eva looked straight up at him, and he didn’t look away.
“I didn’t expect you to be someone who just avoids things and doesn’t even have the courage to throw the first punch. I hope you spend your life running away without saying a word.”
“What are you implying?”
“Figure it out yourself. I’ll be going now.”
Eva moved to pass him and head inside—but then decided, since she’d already said this much, she might as well say it all.
“And do you know your eyesight is terrible?”
“…You mean my vision?”
Rye’s eyes widened, confused by her meaning.
“Go look in a mirror sometime. Is that face supposed to be unpleasant? You could win a fight with just your looks.”
The sudden praise for his appearance left Rye blinking, still covering his scar.
“It’s really uncool to let yourself get discouraged by people who don’t even know you.”
“……”
“If anything, you should call your knight’s scar a medal of honor and get angry. That way, others won’t dare look down on you—or on the Castro family.”
Seeing Rye always avoid confrontation irritated her.
Was this the kind of man I once clung to, only to hear harsh words in return? The past I loved shouldn’t be something I’m ashamed of.
Eva stepped toward the hall—but Rye’s urgent voice stopped her.
“Have we really never met before?”
His eyes wavered, the same way they had when they danced, as he asked the question again. Eva’s face twisted in irritation.
“I’ve never met you, Your Grace. And I doubt we ever will again.”
She delivered her cold farewell at last and stepped inside.
Left alone on the balcony, Rye kept staring at the spot she had been standing. Her face and voice felt so familiar, but he couldn’t recall where he had seen her.
He furrowed his brow, straining to remember—when suddenly:
‘Did you never love me? Not even once?’
A sharp pain pierced his chest, and Rye clutched at it.
“Ugh.”
A strange woman’s voice echoed in his mind—eerily similar to Eva’s.
Clutching his rapidly pounding heart, Rye stared blankly at the railing where she had stood.
“Nothing beats being in bed!”
Back at the mansion, Eva flopped face-first onto her bed the moment she returned.
“My lady? You’re home early?”
“Yeah, it was totally boring.”
“Was there no young gentleman you liked?”
“I went there trying not to like anyone.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“It means I’m finally free!”
Eva stretched luxuriously, feeling pleased.
“I’m going to do nothing. And I mean do nothing more aggressively than I already do.”
She’d made her clean getaway. This life was going to be nothing but idling and indulgence.
‘I’m going to live comfortably as Eva Blanche, the grasshopper!’ she thought—though only a week had passed since then.
“Who came to see me?”
It was midday, the sun high in the sky.
Eva, sprawled on her bed, looked at Jane with wide eyes.
“The Duke of Castro has come.”
“W–why?”
“I don’t know. But he brought a huge bouquet of flowers.”
“A b–bouquet?”
Why?
She was sure she’d ended things cleanly at the debutante ball.
She stayed still, unwilling to meet him, but Jane promptly pulled her up.
“The madam says you mustn’t keep a guest waiting too long, so please get ready and come down at once.”
“I don’t want to.”
“You still have to at least show your face before sending a guest away.”
“No, I think I’m sick. Burning up with fever. Probably a cold.”
“You’re speaking just fine—you’re perfectly healthy.”
Even her hasty excuse didn’t work on Jane.
Forced out of bed, dressed up, and groomed, Eva eventually had to head to the drawing room.
“Your Grace?”
“You’re here, my lady.”
When she entered, she saw a bouquet so large it filled the entire table.
And Rye—dressed even more splendidly than at the debutante ball.
Back then, he had worn dark colors to stay inconspicuous. Now, in a light beige formal suit, he looked much brighter—though his imposing physique still made the outfit resemble battle attire.
Eva, unable to hide her discomfort, approached the table and stood before him.
“What brings you here?”
“First, would you accept this bouquet?”
“For me?”
“Yes. I chose flowers similar to your hair color.”
That was a first. Feeling suspicious, Eva eyed the bouquet warily.
“I’m not very fond of flowers. I’d rather not accept it.”
“Oh, I see. My apologies. I thought of what might suit you and flowers came to mind, so I prepared them on my own.”
Another apology. Was he always this quick to say sorry?
His awkward manner made her want to escape the room as soon as possible.
“I’ll take the bouquet back with me when I leave.”
“That would be fine. Please, if you have something to say, go ahead.”
“May I sit first?”
“Is this going to take long?”
“Yes, I believe it will.”
I have no intention of talking to you for long. Still, it would be impolite to keep standing, so she gestured for him to sit.
The two sat facing each other, eyes averted.
“I have another engagement soon, so could you keep it brief?”
In truth, her only “appointment” was spending the day in bed, but she pretended to be busy.
“Ah, I see. Then I’ll be quick.”
“Yes, thank you.”
Rye hesitated, not speaking right away. The longer he delayed, the more she silently prayed it wouldn’t be that.
After a moment’s pause, he seemed to steel himself, meeting her green eyes squarely.
“I wish to marry you, my lady.”
Oh, dear god. Exactly what she’d hoped it wouldn’t be.
Eva pressed her hand to her forehead.
