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Chapter – 19
The moment Rosemary and Bihan entered the ballroom, everyone’s gaze turned toward them.
Although it was a birthday masquerade ball with no designated protagonists—so no one’s arrival was announced—and although they wore masks that made it impossible to tell exactly who they were, it felt as though a spotlight had been cast solely on the two of them.
Bihan had said that silver hair was common at masquerade balls, but the dazzling silver hair of the House of Kaisers was not something that could be imitated with dye.
His silver hair, his upright posture, and the face that could be glimpsed little by little beneath the mask. Everyone who saw him thought of Kaisers, yet no one could be certain—because of the lady standing beside him.
The duke had never escorted anyone before. And now, that very duke was appearing while escorting a lady—not at an imperial ball, but at a masquerade celebrating a marquess’s daughter’s birthday?
What was more, no one could even guess who that lady was.
A black dress that was surely the work of the capital’s finest atelier, adorned with a beautifully crafted purple sapphire necklace and matching earrings.
Following her delicate shoulders and neckline upward was jet-black hair decorated with purple jewels.
Everyone admired the face hidden behind the mask, yet no one could think of who she might be.
“Lady Eblie.”
“Yes—yes?”
“Do you happen to know who those people are?”
Naturally, people gathered around the hostess of the ball, Lady Eblie Gron.
As the star of the ball, Eblie Gron had the responsibility of knowing all the attendees. Yet no matter how she recalled the invitation list she had memorized so diligently, she couldn’t think of anyone who matched the pair who had entered together.
And no matter how she thought about it, someone with silver hair that handsome even with their face hidden was…
“Could it be Duke Kaisers…?”
“No way. The duke escorting a woman? It’d be more believable if Princess Lucia brought along someone dressed up to look like Duke Kaisers.”
“Shh. If the princess hears that, we’ll be in serious trouble.”
“This is why it’s a masquerade ball. But still, I really can’t guess who that lady is.”
“Did you see the necklace? Could it be a family heirloom?”
“You’re right—it looks like one. If jewels like that had gone up for sale recently, it would’ve made headlines. I’ve never seen anything like it before… Aren’t all the links diamonds?”
“I’m most curious about the dress. Which atelier is it from?”
“Could it be Madame Charlotte? You’d have to wait at least a month to get a dress from her atelier…”
The murmurs around Eblie Gron gradually quieted. The subjects of their conversation were approaching to greet the marquess’s daughter.
Eblie Gron struggled to hide her troubled expression as she ran through the list again and again in her head.
No matter that it was a masquerade ball, it would be unacceptable for the host not to recognize her guests. She would surely be summoned and scolded by the marchioness the moment the ball ended.
“Lady Eblie Gron.”
At the polite greeting, Eblie grasped her skirt and bowed to return the courtesy.
“Happy birthday.”
“Thank you. Um…”
Miss? Madam? While Eblie hesitated even over the proper form of address, Rosemary pulled her into a familiar embrace and whispered,
“Ah…”
“Eblie.”
“Huh…?”
“It’s been a while.”
Startled, Eblie pulled back and looked into the other woman’s eyes.
At masquerade balls, guessing identities by hair color was meaningless, so she had focused only on dresses and jewelry. She hadn’t even thought to look at the most important clue—the eyes.
Clear, softly glowing lavender eyes. As far as Eblie knew, there was only one person in the entire empire with eyes like these who would call her so familiarly.
“Rose…!”
“Shh.”
Smiling brightly at the stunned Eblie, Rosemary took a gift from her small clutch and handed it to her.
“I couldn’t send it separately, so I brought it to give you in person.”
“Rose, how did you even get here…? Your health—are you okay? I never expected this at all…”
“I’m fine. Thank you, Eblie. I’m happy I could come to your birthday ball.”
“Rose…”
When Eblie’s eyes began to glisten with tears, Rosemary hugged her tightly once more.
They had exchanged letters and reassured each other that all was well. Pretending to be sick in person would have been even harder, so she had cut off visits altogether.
If her friend learned the truth about her lie, that friend, too, would have to lie to others about her condition. She didn’t want to burden anyone like that.
She had planned to keep pretending to be ill only until after the story’s protagonists reached their happy ending. It wouldn’t take that long, she thought, so meeting again afterward would be fine.
“Rose, there’s so, so much I want to tell you. Mother checks all my letters, so there’s so much I couldn’t write properly.”
That went for Rosemary as well. But today was Eblie’s birthday ball. Ironically, there was no one busier or more unable to enjoy the event than its main character.
“Eblie. You have a line of guests waiting behind me.”
Eblie, looking crestfallen, squeezed Rosemary’s hand. Rosemary smiled and squeezed back.
“I’ll send you an invitation soon, Eblie.”
“Really?”
“Yes. How about staying over at my place that day? If the marchioness allows it.”
“I’d love that. I really would.”
Ah—only then did Rosemary remember Bihan, whom she had left standing quietly to the side.
“Oh, and this is—”
“Bihan Kaisers, Lady Gron.”
“Gasp…”
At Bihan’s formal introduction, Eblie clung tightly to Rosemary and looked up at him, then belatedly caught herself and offered a proper curtsey.
“Ah—hello, Your Grace. Thank you for accepting the invitation.”
Though she had sent the invitation out of courtesy due to his business ties with her father, she had never imagined the duke would actually attend.
And not only that—the Duke of Kaisers’ first partner was her own friend. How could she not be shocked?
“Happy birthday.”
“Th-thank you.”
Eblie’s gaze returned to Rosemary.
Next time she met Eblie, she would probably have to explain this mysterious partner first.
“Happy birthday again, Eblie.”
“Thank you so much, Rose. Seeing you is the happiest thing that’s happened today. Ah—um, this is a secret, right?”
“Well… people might give you a hard time, so it’s fine if you tell them.”
“No. Saying it’s due to Father’s connections will be enough. Come say goodbye to me before you leave, Rose. Promise?”
“I will.”
As soon as they stepped away from the crowd, Rosemary looked at Bihan. He had been staring at her intently for a while now…
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“…I didn’t realize you were so close with Lady Gron.”
“I have a few close friends. I haven’t seen them for almost two years, so I suppose I felt especially sentimental.”
“I see.”
“…?”
“…She called you ‘Rose.’”
“Ah… that’s my nickname…”
Rosemary studied Bihan’s expression. Though half his face was hidden by the mask, there was something about it…
‘It’s embarrassing enough to ask my father for help to begin this work. I can’t burden others as well.’
‘Others… is that so…’
It was like the expression she had seen at their first meeting—the one she had thought looked dejected.
“…Lord Bihan?”
“Yes, Rosemary.”
Without realizing it, she had stopped him. Just a few steps ahead was the center of the ballroom, where people were dancing, and the music playing was one she particularly liked.
So, without thinking…
“…Would you like to dance?”
The moment she asked, she bit her lip. As far as she remembered, the novel never once described Duke Kaisers dancing.
He hadn’t even danced with Iclet—so why had she…?
And yet, strangely, she felt the urge to comfort him, and the words slipped out before she could stop herself. Comfort the duke…?
Even thinking it sounded absurd. After all, Bihan Kaisers was someone who seemed flawless from childhood, someone who had never needed comforting.
“…Rosemary.”
“Ah, if it’s uncomfortable, it’s fin—”
“It is a request I wished to make first.”
“….”
“May I have the honor of your first dance with me?”
Bihan bowed politely and extended his hand. As if enchanted, Rosemary placed her hand atop his and accepted the dance.
Was her mask hiding her expression well enough? She must look utterly confused.
In the softly flowing music, Bihan’s arm carefully encircled her waist. He had said it was his first dance, yet his movements were as natural and skilled as if he had done this countless times. Their joined hands, their closeness. Their feet crossed and glided to the rhythm, tracing gentle circles.
“Rosemary.”
“Yes?”
“Do you know…”
“What is it?”
“That this truly is my first dance?”
“…What?”
“I have never attended a debutante ball where dancing was mandatory, nor before or after that have I ever danced with anyone.”
“….”
“Thank you for becoming the partner of my first dance, Rosemary.”
Rosemary drew in a sharp breath. For a moment, it felt as though all sound had vanished.
Protagonist.
Hearing that word from someone who was, in truth, one of the story’s protagonists felt strangely overwhelming—hot and unreal.
