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Chapter: 21
Late at night, the carriage stopped in front of the Malik House. Marcus, who had been anxiously waiting for Prince Ian, ran straight to it.
“What kind of expression is that? Did something happen?”
Ian returned even faster than Marcus had expected.
However, the cheerful, ecstatic look he had worn when leaving the princess’s garden was gone. His expression as he stepped out of the carriage was subtle, almost unreadable.
Marcus, silently following behind Ian, finally spoke up after noticing the prince’s demeanor.
“Your Highness, what happened?”
“…Humphrewood and the Baroness?”
“As for Humphrewood, measures have been taken, so they won’t be gossiping recklessly. Lady Warfield and Miss Dorothy were immediately guided to the lounge, and once the commotion settled, they were sent back to the hotel.”
“Good work.”
“There was an uproar about who the lady holding Your Highness’s hand was. If we want to prevent tomorrow’s newspapers from making a big fuss, we’ll have to stay up all night… But Your Highness…”
This wasn’t it.
Marcus stopped mid-sentence, realizing there was a more important issue.
“The person hiding in the garden was Miss Natalie Daus, wasn’t it? What did you do?”
Finally stopping in his tracks, the prince turned to Marcus. His face suggested he was asking the obvious, and Marcus held his breath, half-expecting the worst.
“What could I do? I heard everything.”
“Everything… really?”
“Yes.”
“Then I’ll see her immediately.”
“You’re being too reckless.”
“Your Highness, you’re being far too nonchalant. Saying that, what am I supposed to think? Anyone who hears this would assume I’m going to assassinate her.”
Marcus had been thinking only of a minor threat, a signed secrecy agreement, and keeping her from stepping foot in Dwan again.
Ian shrugged at Marcus’s protest.
“She’s not dangerous. In fact…”
The corner of Ian’s mouth twisted subtly.
It was nothing like three years ago. She seemed like someone who had decided to do nothing at all.
The girl who used to wear her fear like armor but couldn’t hide her resentment—the girl who spoke her mind despite her anxiety—was gone.
Facing someone who restrained every emotion, thought, and instinct in each moment…
“…I was frustrated beyond words. I caused a little mischief.”
When leaving Charlotte’s garden, he had intended to explain everything politely.
Yet those dark, wavering eyes made his heart beat uncomfortably.
“Cannot say it has nothing to do with the royal family.”
Charlotte’s words buzzed in his ears.
Why did his heart care so much now? Was it because of that pitiful face or Charlotte’s words?
‘Sympathy… and a bit of responsibility.’
The prince quickly defined this unknown emotion.
“It was at a gentlemanly level, so there’s no need for that expression. I’ll treat her properly next time.”
“…Next time?” Anxiety crossed Marcus’s face.
“So… you’ve properly silenced her, right?”
“Yes. What choice does she have? She’ll just have to marry me.”
“…Excuse me?”
“There’s nothing to do once I’ve heard everything.”
Marcus prided himself on being a competent aide, capable of handling any sudden situation. Yet recently, he seemed to act foolishly more often—especially when Miss Natalie Daus was involved.
“Who’s marrying whom?”
A sharp voice came from behind them. It was Charlotte, who had been left alone dealing with the ball guests after Ian suddenly disappeared.
Leaning against the window, Ian silently swirled his drink before speaking.
“I like Natalie Daus.”
“…Excuse me?”
“She will be my bride. The more I think about it, the more perfect she is.”
“Oh… I see.”
Marcus, about to ask what he meant by “perfect,” calmed himself after hearing the rest.
“In what way?” Charlotte asked quietly.
“Regarding personal scandal, no one in the kingdom compares.”
The young baroness’s name was a living disgrace to the elder nobles.
“And she knows what she wants.”
It was a contract marriage that would end in divorce in a year. Everyone knew the kingdom treated divorced men and women poorly.
Becoming a princess because her parents told her to might have seemed like a dream, but could a young lady really accept divorce a year later?
Ian needed a lady who would willingly marry—and divorce—on her own terms.
Seeing her struggle at the ball for her brother’s sake, it was clear the baroness simply wanted her family to return to a normal life.
“First… I’ll find a proper match for my sister. Everything else can follow gradually…”
He could fulfill what the baroness wanted more efficiently than anyone else.
“Even if she doesn’t meet all the conditions, I’ve already heard everything. I can’t erase her memory, and keeping watch on her until death would be too troublesome.”
Charlotte silently thought that perhaps he should just assassinate her, but she didn’t voice it.
“Good. It’s better this way. Seeing her act will ease this frustration.”
Ian raised the crystal glass he had been twirling and downed the drink in one gulp, murmuring while looking out the window.
His unusually talkative, lively demeanor left Marcus momentarily speechless.
When Charlotte looked at her brother with pleading eyes, she too was simply lost in watching him.
Charlotte, quietly observing Ian’s expression, finally spoke.
“…Yes. Come to think of it, he’s right.”
“Princess?”
Marcus couldn’t understand why even the princess encouraged such impulsive, reckless decisions.
“Ian has no choice but to marry Miss Natalie Daus. Since I’ve heard everything, it can’t be helped. It’s partly our fault for speaking in such an open space, isn’t it?”
Ian, still gazing out the window, nodded slowly as if to agree.
Charlotte subtly shifted the topic.
“Hmm. Catherine clung to me crying. She said she must have made me angry because none of the candidates she picked pleased you.”
“Of course, those ladies were all excellent.”
“I’ll tell her that.”
Marcus suddenly wondered if calling the most troublesome young lady “excellent” really suited the term.
Charlotte abruptly turned to him.
“But why did you invite Miss Natalie Daus?”
“Didn’t you tell me to send an invitation to the Warfield household?”
“I meant Miss Dorothy. If it were Miss Natalie, would you even want her back in Dwan? Not every woman wants to be invited to a ball or find a husband.”
Marcus realized his second mistake.
“…Ah…”
A faint sigh escaped him. According to the princess, this entire fiasco was caused by his mistakes. His face went pale instantly.
“This is why gentlemen… commit such foolish errors. The Baron family must have been in quite a predicament thanks to you.”
“I’m sorry, Your Highness.”
“But… you did well. I like it.”
As Marcus bowed deeply, Charlotte whispered just enough for him to hear.
‘Did I hear that right?’
He looked at the princess in confusion. To his surprise, she winked one eye and smiled. He had no idea what it meant.
“This isn’t a dream.”
Looking blankly at his tear-stained face in the mirror, he lowered his gaze to see the hem of his once-beautiful crimson dress now dirtied with mud. His neatly pinned hair was half undone, and only a few decorative flowers remained in it.
Hours ago, he had prayed in front of this mirror that nothing would happen. Clearly, there was no god in this world.
“Otherwise, why does this always happen to me?”
Exhausted, Natalie slowly sank to the floor, reflecting on the prince’s last words from the carriage:
“In three days, there will be a ball at the Duchess Horace’s residence. It’s said to be the highlight of the social season.”
“If you want to make a deal with me, take the carriage I sent. Your mother and sister can come too.”
“Starting with being invited to the Duchess’s ball, your sister’s life will change significantly.”
The prince seemed to know everything about her. She was too embarrassed and humiliated to respond.
“How unlucky.”
“Then make a wise choice. I look forward to seeing you at the Duchess’s in three days.”
“Really unlucky.”
The prince gave her a three-day grace period, but there was no need to hesitate. The answer had already come.
“If you do nothing, nothing will change. But you do seem to want to improve, even a little.”
At that moment, the devil, sometimes more beautiful than an angel and speaking in the sweetest voice, had spoken to her. Ian, Duke of Balderma, was exactly that.
At that moment, a commotion arose down the corridor.
Her mother and Dorothy had apparently returned early from the ball. The disturbance likely prevented them from enjoying the ball fully.
Biting her lower lip, Natalie rose to her feet.
“Natalie? Are you here?”
Bang, bang! The Baroness knocked urgently on Natalie’s door. She hurriedly opened it.
“What happened? Why is Prince Ian here…?”
“I’ll need to extend my stay at the hotel.”
“What?”
“I’ve been invited to Lady Horace’s ball. In three days.”
“What…?”
The Baroness was too shocked to speak, and Dorothy, standing behind her with a displeased face, covered her mouth in astonishment.
“You’ll need a new dress, Dorothy.”
Upon hearing Natalie’s words, tears of joy began streaming down Dorothy’s face. Seeing her long struggle, Natalie drew a quiet breath.
“Let’s go to the boutique early tomorrow.”
Natalie whispered with a faint smile.
