23.

“Oh my goodness. If my eyes don’t deceive me, those two just over there…….”

“You didn’t know? It’s been all the talk lately.”

“Only three months after it happened? Could the lady have been waiting all this time just for the engagement to be broken?”

“Who knows. But she is the lady, after all. Ruling as the presumptive crown princess for over ten years, and then immediately turning to Cardier? Bolder than I imagined…….”

As Rosetta and Cardier passed a little closer by, the young noblewomen who had been casually gossiping suddenly flapped their fans and stifled their laughter. Their awkward change of topic was merely an added bonus.

Having experienced the same situation about ten times while circling half the ballroom, she no longer even felt hollow laughter rising. After all, the one they so diligently criticized was ‘Lea,’ not her.

For the first time, Rosetta felt relieved that Cardier was by her side. Had he not been there, she would’ve been stopped every three steps with a barrage of curious questions. The noble ladies’ gazes were no more than mildly ticklish—almost cozy—so she could simply ignore them. But their tongues were the most fearsome weapons of all.

As she glanced around, using Cardier as a shield, a long trumpet blast rang out not long after. It was the signal that members of the royal family were entering. She curiously stretched her neck to sneak a peek at the crown prince and his fiancée. The prince was reasonably handsome, but certainly not a man so extraordinarily beautiful that a woman as lovely as Lea would give up her life for him.

Then again, if she had fallen for looks alone, she wouldn’t have chosen the crown prince over Cardier. And if she’d merely coveted the title of crown princess, she wouldn’t have resorted to suicide out of despair…… So the prince must have some exceptionally remarkable personality traits.

Was it because she had scrutinized everything too thoroughly? She absentmindedly turned her head toward the direction of a gaze she felt, only to lock eyes directly with the crown prince. For a moment, his pupils widened, then his expression slowly filled with something close to shock.

“……What? He looks like he’s seen a ghost.”

Ros muttered dryly, tilting her head. Lea’s attendance was common knowledge—why was he so surprised? Momentarily distracted by the surrounding situation, Rosetta jumped when the emperor suddenly burst into loud laughter.

“Now then, let’s skip the tiresome speeches and start the ball instead!”

At those words, the small sounds of the orchestra tuning their instruments ceased. The nobles began to move outward in a circle, clearing a large open space. The formal ball was about to begin.

“Our turn now.”

Cardier, hiding his left hand behind his back, extended his right hand toward her with a slight bow. Placing her hand on his, she was led by him to the center of the ballroom.

Five couples were chosen to lead the first waltz. Judging by the outrageously expensive materials of their clothes, it seemed like they’d been selected strictly by rank, cut cleanly from the top.

Rosetta and Cardier stood side by side next to the crown prince and his fiancée. She could feel people’s stares prickling her skin.

Well, what an entertaining spectacle this must be. If she weren’t one of the dancers herself, Ros would’ve gladly paid extra just to watch this thrilling scene.

Anyway, after dancing the waltz as practiced, she planned to quietly slip into some corner and leave. Of course, first and foremost, she needed to find a suitable patsy—or rather, a fiancé—to finally end these exhausting social events once and for all.

“Focus.”

Cardier whispered softly as she drifted into other thoughts. Whether it was a warning that the waltz was about to begin, a cheerful orchestral melody began to flow at nearly the same moment his words reached her. Simultaneously, her body spun abruptly, as if half-dragged.

“What……”

It was rather sudden, but thanks to weeks of practice, she barely managed to keep her balance. Not only did she avoid losing balance, she even managed to appear graceful—thanks to Cardier’s firm hand supporting her waist.

She spun once in place, in rhythm with the music, then returned smoothly into Cardier’s arms. As she stumbled slightly on a complex step, her hand accidentally gripped the front of his uniform, causing brief sighs to erupt from various corners. Cardier smiled faintly and gently corrected her posture.

At that moment, Rosetta understood the hostile gazes of the women in high society—and a few of the men. After all, Cardier was precisely the kind of man anyone would desire.

Under the dazzling lights of the ballroom, he shone especially bright. His face, flawless to the point of defying even minor personal preferences, aside—his tall frame of 19 decimeters (about 190 cm), his broad shoulders befitting a naval officer, and the firmness beneath his crisp uniform suggested tightly defined, sculpted muscles underneath.

“……Lea.”

Cardier pulled the momentarily dazed Rosetta a half-step closer. Not close enough to breach social norms, but with an attitude that only possessive men might display. Holding her gaze, he asked quietly,

“What were you thinking about?”

“Thinking?”

“You seemed half out of your senses.”

She’d never admit, even if she died, that she had been spellbound by his face. Awkwardly, she averted her eyes.

Was it the hazy atmosphere of the ballroom, or the overwhelming scent of perfume clinging heavily to her head? It felt different from the hundreds of times they’d practiced breathing in sync in the drawing room. And furthermore—when had this man learned to wear such a distinctly masculine expression?

Unfamiliar sensations began to stir slowly within her. For some reason, she found it difficult to look directly at his face, and her heart fluttered. Ros became acutely aware of the points where their bodies touched.

Cardier’s hand, which had been supporting her waist, lifted slightly and settled lower on her bare back. The rough, warm touch of a man’s hand against her cool skin felt unreasonably hot. Ros exhaled a small, shaky breath. How he interpreted it, Cardier spoke indifferently.

“If it’s uncomfortable, just imagine it’s only the two of us here.”

Her eyes widened. Stupid, clueless bastard, starfish, good-for-nothing.

“……As if that’s as easy as it sounds?”

Cardier let out a small chuckle at her sharp retort. The air ruffled lightly against her forehead, tickling. It had been almost reflexive, so Rosetta quickly added a few words to smooth things over.

“I mean…… well, everyone’s staring at us so openly.”

“Does that bother you?”

“I value my life.”

“……Your life?”

Ros bit her lip until it turned bone-white. Focusing solely on not messing up her steps, she kept blurting out words. How stupid did she intend to become? The situation was already suspicious enough—she needed to be more careful. Yet once she slipped up, her old verbal habits kept spilling out unbidden.

Rosetta stammered through a flimsy excuse while avoiding his gaze.

“I mean…… you know, among nobles, honor is as precious as life. Something like that. Right?”

Cardier looked down at her for a long moment with a puzzled expression, then chuckled softly.

“I know.”

It was impossible to tell whether he believed her excuse or not. If she’d known it would come to this, she should’ve paid closer attention to how the nobles spoke in casual tones when learning from Madam Falmont. Then again, considering how she used to sprinkle curses into every third sentence, her current state was already extremely refined and elegant.

Cardier gently brushed his thumb across her chin, pulling her from her thoughts.

“Try to smile a little more brightly.”

“……Was my expression odd just now?”

“No. Just……”

He slightly furrowed his perfect brow, as if even he didn’t understand himself. Of all the ways she’d seen Cardier since she’d awakened, this was the one that resembled her memories the most.

“I want to see you looking happy.”

Before she could even ask what he meant by that, the violin played its final note—the first waltz had ended. Instantly, other nobles began pairing up and flooding onto the dance floor. Amid the chaotic commotion, Rosetta stepped back toward the wall, supported by Cardier.

Her feet, unaccustomed to the unfamiliar heels, were growing increasingly sore. She wished she could just rip off this damn dress and have a glass of rum—then she’d want for nothing. Rosetta’s eyes flickered hungrily toward the strong liquor some of the men were downing. Cardier followed her desperate gaze, then opened his mouth in disbelief.

“Thirsty?”

“Dying.”

Her tone was almost like, ‘Damn it, hand it over now.’ Cardier looked worried about leaving her alone, but as Rosetta’s desperate eyes remained fixed on the whiskey another man was casually drinking, he sighed briefly, as if resigned.

“I’ll bring you something to drink. ……Alcohol, I mean.”

At that moment, the glow behind Cardier looked like the halo of an angel painted in a saint’s portrait. Rosetta was so moved she nearly offered a prayer of gratitude to the heavens. For nearly a month, she hadn’t even tasted alcohol—except for a few sips of a couple of wines.

“So stay put. Don’t go anywhere.”

“Got it. I got it.”

She grinned, showing her teeth. She waved him off with unusual enthusiasm, even waving her arm.

And just as she was left alone—

“I was wondering when you’d finally be by yourself.”