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Chapter 16
A Promise Bound by Honor
“Are you going to dance?”
A poke at his side brought Leopold back to his senses.
But he still didn’t move.
The cadet beside him, puzzled, whispered after hearing from someone,
“The man standing there — that’s Duke His Grace, Leopold’s father.”
The others recognized the woman standing next to the Duke, and in an instant, they all understood the situation. Their faces turned sympathetic as they exchanged glances.
Then, one of Leopold’s friends, Martel, boldly crossed the ballroom and offered his hand to Renée, who stood beside the Duke.
The Duke gave a faint smile of approval, and the two began to dance.
But when the music ended, Martel didn’t return Renée to the Duke — he led her straight to Leopold instead. With a triumphant smile, Martel patted Leopold on the shoulder.
“Introductions can wait till later.”
The next melody began — grand and elegant.
With trembling hands, Leopold wrapped his arm around Renée’s waist.
Renée rested one hand on his shoulder, the other clasped his, and smiled softly up at him. Her smooth forehead, framed by neatly pulled-back hair, made Leopold’s heart ache — and swell with joy all at once.
“I’ve never seen you like this before,” she said.
“Do I look strange?”
“No. You look… amazing. I might just fall for you all over again.”
“I’m the most handsome cadet here, right?”
At his playful tone, Renée let out a small laugh. Leopold gazed into her eyes, smiling, and murmured like a song:
“You are the most beautiful woman in the world. Of course, that’s not why I love you. But it is the truth.”
Renée chuckled softly — but tears welled up in her eyes. Bowing her head quickly, she whispered,
“I’m sorry, Leopold, I…”
“Shh. You’re supposed to be dancing with me.”
Leopold drew her a little closer, whispering at her ear,
“For now, let’s just think about this — just us, please…”
His voice, thick with emotion, trembled. Hearing it, Renée faltered — her feet stopped, and she slipped away from his arms.
Leopold took her hand and walked her toward the Duke, whose blue eyes gleamed like ice. A suffocating silence followed, until the Duke’s calm voice broke it.
“Leopold Kairus Bayar Reinarche. You’ll inherit my title, become the next Duke of Bayar — and one day, take the imperial throne. A splendid future. You’ll have everything… except the woman you love.”
Leopold clenched his fist. A chill ran through his whole body.
“I won’t stop you from keeping one pleasant memory before you marry. Until the next semester begins, I won’t forbid you from seeing Renée. She’s already agreed.”
But when Leopold saw Renée’s trembling shoulders and the way her jeweled earrings quivered under the light, he swallowed his fury and forced out his words.
“Did you threaten her?”
The Duke smiled — calm, almost amused.
“I’ll give you time to come to terms with it. It’s the best decision for both of you. But, Leopold…”
His voice turned cold, almost ghostly.
“If that ring in your pocket — if you so much as give it to Renée — you’ll never see her again after tonight. If you run, I’ll find you. And I’ll have her executed before your eyes.”
Leopold froze, horrified.
The Duke leaned close and whispered with a thin smile,
“I swear it — on my honor.”
The ballroom fell utterly silent.
Two direct members of the imperial family attending a cadets’ spring ball was shocking enough — but now, the Duke and his son stood face to face, arguing over a single woman.
After a long, tense pause, the Duke’s son reached into his pocket and handed something to his father.
The Duke smiled, took it, and left the ballroom.
Moments later, Leopold turned back to the guests, his face serene — almost too serene.
Realizing that nothing dramatic seemed to have happened, people began to relax, chatting and dancing once more.
But Leopold’s fellow cadets, who knew him well, exchanged grim looks.
“That idiot’s about to explode,” one muttered.
They watched the pair standing hand in hand — Renée and Leopold — with sorrow.
The Duke himself had intervened in a forbidden love.
All that was left were two young lovers stripped of their future.
Leopold could no longer smile or dance.
He quietly took Renée’s hand and led her out, past the crowds, out of the ballroom.
Behind them, faint whispers trailed: the crown prince, the woman, the Duke, the lovers…
They walked down an unlit corridor. Only the sharp tap-tap of Renée’s heels echoed in the dark.
When they finally stepped outside the main building, Renée stopped and said softly,
“I should go home now.”
“If I let a pretty girlfriend like you go home alone, all sorts of bad men will try to bother you. How could I just watch that?”
At his teasing, Renée smiled faintly.
Just as he always did when visiting her home, Leopold grinned — that bright, spring-like smile — and held her hand as they passed through the academy gates.
The music from the ballroom faded.
The voices of the crowd grew distant.
They soon reached the main street, lit by lampposts. Cafés had set out tables and chairs under the warm spring sky. People sipping wine or champagne, others smoking, all turned to watch the striking young couple pass by.
Renée, wearing a light spring coat over her gown, clutched the lapels and lowered her head. She could almost hear the murmurs — Why is a woman like that holding the Crown Prince’s hand?
When she began to waver, Leopold noticed instantly.
“Your shoes hurt, don’t they? Should I carry you?”
His gentle, boyish tone made her laugh and shake her head.
Still worried, Leopold knelt right there in the middle of the street to check her shoes.
And at that moment, tears began to fall from his eyes — because he remembered what he had meant to do tonight.
To kneel before her and offer her that ring.
Seeing his tears, Renée knelt too, whispering,
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Leopold.”
“What are you sorry for?”
“I knew it would end like this… A woman like me, with a man like you—”
“A woman like you? Don’t say that, Renée.”
Leopold’s voice sank low and firm.
“If you’re about to start pitying yourself for being unworthy of loving me, stop it right now. Whatever you’ve done, whoever you’ve been with — none of that matters to me.”
“No. If you ever learn what kind of woman I was, you’ll despise me.”
“Renée Martin. The woman I know is not like that. And I’ll never regret loving you.”
“What do you even know about me?”
“Oh, I know you quite well. Want to hear?”
“…Tell me.”
Leopold held her and gazed off into the distance.
“You love summer, but you can’t stand the heat. Your apple pies are the best in the world. And judging from those awful romance novels you read, you have a terrible taste in books.”
Renée burst into tears — then laughter. Leopold laughed with her, softly.
He drew a deep breath and whispered,
“You’ve never once told me you love me… but I know you do.”
He cupped her tear-streaked face in his hands and met her eyes.
“Right? I’m right, aren’t I?”
Her trembling brown eyes overflowed with tears.
Sobbing, she nodded.
“Say it, Renée. Please… say it.”
Clutching his collar, she looked up — his gray eyes, filled with tears like hers, met hers.
And as though caught in a rainstorm, both of them trembled. Leopold pulled her tightly into his arms.
Renée held onto his neck, leaning into him as if dancing. His hand stroked her back tenderly — and she made a decision: just once, she would be selfish.
There would never be another beautiful summer. So for this one season, she would love him with all her heart.
The man who had given her the most radiant summer of her life.
“I love you.”
At her confession, Leopold smiled through tears.
Renée whispered quickly, almost breathlessly:
“I love the letters we exchanged, the countless train rides I took to see you. I love everything you’ve ever done to me. I love everything about you…!”
In the next instant, her feet lifted off the ground.
Leopold had swept her up into his arms and spun her around right in the middle of the street.
He twirled her in circles until her laughter rang out.
Laughing together, they pressed their foreheads together.
Then Leopold suddenly grabbed her hand.
“Renée! No time — the last train leaves in five minutes!”
“What?!”
Without another word, he lifted her again and ran — toward the station platform.
