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Chapter 51
A major announcement is coming?
“I hope Miss Damia will celebrate with me too.”
Whatever her scheme was, Drury’s deep blue eyes sparkled with life.
“So hurry and take a rest. Your complexion is really bad.”
“I’m really fine.”
“I’ve prepared a room at the end of the hallway. It’s a guest room, so you can rest comfortably.”
“Miss Drury, I…”
“The door handle is decorated with camellias, and the inside is filled with flowers. I really want you to see it.”
Her tone was endlessly gentle, yet her eyes said clearly: refusal was not an option.
‘She’s planning something.’
As Damia tried to think of a suitable excuse to slip away, Romie, who had been waiting in a corner, came into view.
“……”
Romie was pale, trembling from her fingertips to her shoulders. It was the complete opposite of her usual cheerful self.
If left alone like this, she might actually collapse.
“I’ll just go for a bit. You seem a little dizzy.”
In the end, Damia nodded obediently.
Drury’s eyes narrowed slightly, as if satisfied.
“I’ll tell the orchestra not to start the dance until Miss Damia returns. Especially for you.”
“Thank you for your consideration. I’ll be back soon.”
Damia smiled calmly and led Romie away.
“Oh my, Miss Drury is really kind. Truly befits today’s star.”
“She looks even more beautiful today. Congratulations on coming of age.”
As Damia stepped back, a crowd of nobles gathered around Drury.
She stood in the center, smiling gracefully.
“I’m sorry, Miss. I’m probably only causing trouble by following you.”
“No, it’s fine. Are you feeling okay?”
“Yes. I don’t know why, but whenever I see Miss Drury, I feel nauseous and short of breath…”
Damia leaned forward to wipe Romie’s sweat.
“Ugh…!”
Romie quickly covered her mouth. Damia tried to support her, but Romie waved her hands and stepped back.
“I really can’t… I-I’ll just get some fresh air! Please rest first!”
Without waiting for a reply, Romie dashed toward the garden.
Damia shouted that she would go too, but Romie didn’t look back.
‘Could it be that seeing Drury brought back some bad memories?’
Left alone, Damia rubbed her tense shoulders.
Walking down the corridor, she saw the antique door with a camellia-decorated handle—the guest room Drury had boasted about.
Since the party had just started, the corridor was quiet. Likely no one else was inside.
Damia slowly stepped into the room.
‘Huh?’
Although it was daytime, the interior was pitch black. Thick blackout curtains completely blocked the sunlight.
It wasn’t just dark—the air inside was heavy and damp, pressing down on her entire body.
‘I can’t breathe.’
She sensed no immediate danger, yet instinct screamed a warning.
Damia staggered toward the window. She wanted to open the curtains and let fresh air in immediately.
She didn’t care about Drury’s flowers or decorations.
Her priority was clearing this suffocating, alien air.
“Heh.”
Then, somewhere, a laugh echoed, as if scratching the inside of her throat. Goosebumps crawled down her spine.
‘I’m not alone here, am I?’
She remembered Drury’s insistence that she take a rest.
She hadn’t expected any accidents at the coming-of-age party, but perhaps she had been too careless.
Damia froze and stepped backward. Her hand reached for the door handle—
“Disturbing me and now leaving without even a greeting?”
The voice was lazy yet authoritative.
When she turned her head, she saw the silhouette of a tall man.
“…Young Viscount?”
His face was shrouded in darkness, making it hard to see. Yet something about him felt oddly familiar, and Damia whispered instinctively.
The man let out a low, rasping chuckle.
“Viscount, huh. That’s a rather novel title.”
In an instant, he closed the distance between them. His cold gaze pierced Damia.
“….”
Even though he hadn’t done anything yet, Damia felt frozen, as if standing before a predator.
It wasn’t Cassian. Up close, it was clear why she had mistaken him before—his build, scent, and presence were completely different.
Moreover, he seemed to be blonde.
The room was so dark, and strands of hair fell over his forehead, hiding the color of his eyes.
“…Who are you?”
Her voice trembled horribly. The man tilted his head and smiled faintly.
“I never imagined anyone in the Empire wouldn’t recognize me. That’s quite disappointing.”
The faintly mocking voice made Damia swallow dryly. Her mind started spinning.
‘Why did Drury spill wine on me? It couldn’t have been an accident.’
Her dress hadn’t been stained, and she hadn’t suffered any major embarrassment.
Drury had gained nothing from that commotion…
‘Could it be that the whole thing was meant to lure me here?’
With everyone distracted in the hall, no one would notice whatever happened in this secluded room.
And of course, Cassian was in the West. It was the perfect timing to act and cover it up discreetly.
“I’ve heard about the young lady. I was rather curious.”
The man slowly brushed his gloved hand over Damia’s cheek.
Damia, eyeing the door for an escape route, froze.
“Excuse me, but I have no idea who you are. I don’t find it pleasant for you to touch me like this.”
Among the guests, no one had a lower rank than Damia, so the same likely applied to the man.
Yet, the sudden touch made irritation rise faster than fear.
The man laughed loudly, not in annoyance, but like a child who had discovered an interesting toy.
“You’ll soon regret saying that.”
‘What nonsense?’
Damia was about to snap at him, but he suddenly swept the curtains aside.
Shhhhhhh!
The sharp sunlight pierced the eyes accustomed to darkness.
“Helping you regain your senses isn’t a bad idea.”
He muttered something incomprehensible and flung the window wide open.
A gust of wind blew in, carrying a strange, overpowering scent, even from a distance.
The same dizzyingly sweet, slightly pungent scent she had smelled from Drury.
“Why are you opening the window all of a sudden?”
“Hm, a bit impatient, aren’t you? You’ll find out soon enough anyway.”
By the time Damia’s eyes adjusted to the light, the man slowly turned around.
Backlit, his blonde hair shone dazzlingly.
The first thing visible in the dim light was his eyes.
Golden eyes, the same color as his hair, startlingly vivid.
They were unmistakable signs of the Velotea Imperial family.
“…Your Highness, the Prince.”
Gentle drooping eyes contrasted with sharply raised eyebrows.
Features delicate as if carved from heavenly fire.
Beautiful enough that any angle would earn admiration.
She had never met him in person, but knew his face well from portraits.
The First Prince, Vasili Velotea.
Heir apparent by birth and ability, widely rumored to be appointed Crown Prince soon.
‘Why is the Crown Prince here?’
Even for a prestigious family like Soro, it was unimaginable for the First Prince to attend a young lady’s coming-of-age ceremony.
“I apologize for my rudeness, Your Highness.”
Damia hadn’t expected to meet the Prince. Survival required an immediate apology.
She hurriedly bent her knees, and he studied her silently for a moment.
Then a chuckle, followed by him extending a pale hand. Damia instinctively stepped back.
But behind her was the door. No further retreat.
“….”
The man reached over her shoulder. Trapped in his embrace, she felt her breath catch.
Click.
The sound of the door locking echoed sharply through the room.
