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Chapter 1
On the day fate began to twist, Angelina Agate was reading the newspaper.
Chewing on a freshly baked bagel, going through every single page of the local paper was one of her hobbies—almost a game.
A game of finding her own name.
It had been about three years since she began appearing in newspapers as a rising celebrity of the Latria Empire.
A beauty said to be able to enchant anyone with just a glance, and the fiancée of the Crown Prince—her profile was glamorous enough to attract attention and admiration. She had no doubt that this life would continue as it was.
That is, until she saw something strange in the newspaper.
— “Lord Phillips and a Lady entering the Gloria Hotel. What kind of beautiful story might have unfolded?”
The woman’s face looked familiar, like a reflection in a mirror.
“Ahhh!”
Angelina crumpled the newspaper and threw it away.
“What happened, my lady?”
Lara, the maid standing at the doorway, rushed over like a Doberman.
“What do you think that looks like?”
With trembling fingers, Angelina pointed at the newspaper. Lara picked up the crumpled paper from the floor with a puzzled expression.
“That’s you, my lady. You went to that hotel a few days ago, so of course you were featured. But why did they leave out your name and just call you ‘the lady’?”
Lara asked casually.
“Lord Phillips is that notorious playboy nobleman, right? When did you get involved with him?”
“I did NOT!”
Of all people, why Lord Phillips?
The infamous playboy of the Latria Empire who reportedly invited every woman into his bed.
Any woman linked to his scandals would suffer for a long time.
Oh heavens, why have you brought this misfortune upon me?
I just happened to pass through the same door at the same time!
“No one will know. They didn’t even print your name.”
Lara said lightly.
“You recognized me instantly!”
“Maybe you were hiding it from me?”
Angelina glared at her, and Lara quickly added an excuse.
“I just thought it might be Lord Phillips… and there’s something else you should see.”
An envelope?
Angelina tore it open carelessly.
— “We deeply regret that the value of Madam Kelt’s dress, which boasts a century of history, has been tarnished due to an unsavory incident. Therefore, we are discontinuing sponsorship for Lady Agate. Furthermore, please return the dress sent recently within one week. If the dress is damaged, a compensation fee of 6,000 Hercs will be charged.”
It had only been a few hours since the article was published!
She was briefly shocked by the brand’s strict management, but soon focused on the last line.
Return it? Compensation fee?
“Where is that dress?”
“It’s right in front of your eyes.”
“…Where?”
Angelina followed Lara’s gaze and slowly looked down.
“My lady is wearing it right now.”
“What?”
She jumped to her feet in shock. The movement knocked her coffee cup to the floor, spilling black liquid everywhere.
I’m doomed.
Her vision went blurry.
“Lara, do we have any money?”
“Huh?”
Lara looked at her mistress like she was a shameless employer trying to raid her maid’s pockets.
“How am I supposed to come up with 6,000 Hercs?”
“Ask the master or madam.”
“They’d probably give me the money… and then something terrifying would happen.”
She might be sent to a convent… or forced into marriage.
“Then what about the Crown Prince?”
“You mean Alexei?”
“Yes, you’re close with him, right?”
“That was a long time ago.”
“You’re still his fiancée.”
“Only in name. It’s a contract our fathers arranged. We’re worse than strangers.”
“Still, wouldn’t he be the one most capable of solving this?”
He had power and money—enough to fix anything.
But the real question was whether he would.
Whether he would help a nominal fiancée.
“You want me to go beg the Crown Prince I haven’t spoken to in seven years?”
“That would be difficult, wouldn’t it?”
Lara’s hand fluttered the notice again. The 6,000 Hercs seemed to dance before her eyes.
“I can’t just go to the palace for something so personal…”
“He’s staying at the 별궁 (detached palace) right now.”
Ah…!
That sounded like hope.
And that, unfortunately, was the moment that twisted Angelina’s fate.
* * *
What does it feel like to willingly seek out a man you’ve cut ties with to beg for help?
First, it feels like going blind—everything goes dark.
Stupid. Pathetic.
Self-loathing follows immediately.
Her heart raced like it was sprinting, and her mouth dried like a desert.
Lara, trying to be helpful, whispered advice.
“Don’t bring up the request right away. Try to appeal to the Crown Prince’s emotions.”
Emotions… to that bookworm?
That was like searching for cicadas in the dead of winter.
“No matter how urgent you are, you must go slowly and gently. Understand?”
Slowly. Gently. Patiently.
Repeating those words, she stepped through the door opened by the attendant.
The study in the detached palace was smaller and simpler than the main palace. The Crown Prince preferred staying here during summers because the main palace, filled with unnecessary decorations, distracted him. For a bookworm, they were nothing but obstacles to concentration.
As expected, the Crown Prince was sitting upright, reading.
Alexei Verner.
The only son of Emperor Raymond Verner, next in line to the throne.
A golden noble who loved books and learning.
To her, he was an infuriating man who wouldn’t shed a single tear even if stabbed.
They had grown up together and once been close—almost like friends. A time when everything felt natural and obvious. Even the marriage arrangement made by their fathers hadn’t bothered her then.
But not anymore.
Their relationship had soured after she carelessly touched his books, and their engagement had become nothing more than a fragile agreement waiting to break.
He glanced up at her presence, then returned to his book.
Haah.
Look at that coldness.
I was stupid to expect a warm greeting. Wasn’t he the one who practically declared war over a single damaged book?
Angelina regretted coming, but she had no way to turn back.
She was the one who had shouted that she never wanted to see him again.
“Lo-ong time no see.”
She forced the words out.
Alexei lifted his head.
“What do you want?”
“Well…”
Slowly, gently. Ask for help.
“Can you lend me some money?”
“…What?”
“You’re the only person around me who has money—or at least who can lend it.”
At that, Alexei closed his book with a sharp sound.
It seemed she had touched not his emotions, but his irritation.
“Why do you need money?”
Angelina explained everything that had happened that morning.
The scandalous article in the tabloid. The threatening letter from Madame Kelt. And the ruined dress.
“…That’s what happened. So I need money.”
“Where is the newspaper?”
“I don’t have it.”
Alexei summoned a servant to fetch it. Angelina glared at him as she waited, watching the clock complete a full cycle.
And the man who refused to leave his desk.
“If you’re going to refuse, just say so.”
“I never said I would refuse.”
“So you’ll lend it?”
“I never said I would lend it either.”
“Are you joking?”
“No.”
Angelina stood abruptly, snatched the letter from the desk, and turned away.
“Thanks for your help. Sorry for coming uninvited.”
She shouldn’t have come at all.
Before she could even look back, she was stopped at the door.
Alexei stood there, blocking her path.
“What is it now…?”
“I’ll help you.”
His face remained as cold as ever.
“So wait.”
“Let’s have dinner together.”
“…Fine.”
It was already evening.
* * *
Only after finishing her meal did Angelina realize how improperly she had behaved. She glanced at Alexei’s plate—it was still untouched.
“Did the chef change? It doesn’t taste like before.”
“The chef changed twice. The current one is good with chicken dishes.”
His dry reply made her earlier embarrassment fade, replaced by irritation.
“So? How are you going to help me?”
“Read the article first.”
“It’s not even a big amount for you. Just lend it nicely.”
“Can you pay it back?”
That hit the mark. She fell silent.
A servant brought in the tabloid.
“Is this the dress from Madame Kelt?”
“No. I wore a different dress that day.”
Alexei folded the newspaper.
A brief silence followed.
“The royal family must maintain distance from the public. Scandals are not beneficial.”
“I just enjoy social activities. I can’t control reporters sticking to me like shadows. And I’m not even part of the royal family yet.”
“Not yet, but soon.”
“Why me?”
“Because you’re my fiancée.”
Was he drunk?
She shook her head. He didn’t look like a stone—but almost like he was seeing double.
He must have had too much wine.
“I think it’s time marriage talks begin now that we’re adults.”
She gave up on that thought immediately and drank more wine.
“You think that engagement is still valid?”
“Isn’t it?”
“It’s basically been broken for seven years.”
“It was never officially broken.”
For a moment, Alexei looked less like a man and more like an ugly stone.
“And still… there is absolutely… no way… no possibility… that we will ever get married.”
Angelina dropped her head onto the table.
