The bitter cold passes, and the season of green buds sprouting arrives. A time when life buried in white snow awakens from slumber and greets a new beginning.

Coinciding with this period, the empire was abuzz with festivities to celebrate the birth of the rising little sun.

Every street was filled with the chatter of boisterous people, and a procession of splendid carriages streamed endlessly towards the imperial palace. It was a scene befitting the birthday celebration of the next sun of the Rododo Empire, which ruled the eastern continent.

This grand banquet, where so-called heavyweight figures from around the world gathered in one place, did not have such a pure purpose as merely celebrating someone’s birthday.

It was a massive negotiation venue where politics and diplomacy were exchanged between countries, and cultures were interchanged.

For this reason, attendance at the banquet was mandatory for all nobles of the empire. This was also true for the empire’s one and only Grand Duke and Grand Duchess.

“I’m uneasy.”

Wearing a long navy suit that reached his knees, Boreas stood in front of the mirror, smoothing his fully exposed forehead.

Watching him leisurely retie his cravat, there was someone frowning beside him – it was Hans, the worrisome and nagging aide. More precisely, the man named “Hans Demeter Awin” pounded his own chest at Boreas’s behavior, which seemed to have completely forgotten last year’s incident.

“If you’re so concerned, I’ll send word that you’re unwell and unable to attend.”

Hans was a capable and intelligent aide, so he must have known it was impossible to express an intent to not attend at this point. Nevertheless, voicing the impossible meant he was that worried.

Boreas neatly ignored the constant grumbling from beside him, only offering a light response when he heard the final desperate cry of “What if the same thing as last time happens again!”

“I’ll be back.”

Boreas put on snow-white gloves and stepped into the hallway.

The Grand Duke entered the landing, followed by his aide who fretted and continued to speak while chasing after him.

“What are you doing there?”

Fareld Son, the secretary of the Grand Duke’s household, who had been watching the two bickering as they came down the stairs, let out a quiet sigh, understanding the situation above.

“Sigh.”

It wasn’t unreasonable for the aide to be making such a fuss. Anyone working at the Grand Duke’s residence would try to stop him if they recalled the incident from half a year ago.

Half a year ago, the Grand Duchess, at the peak of her madness, displayed all sorts of unseemly and vicious behavior at a ball attended by high-ranking nobles, dragging the honor of the Adrian family through the mud.

For instance, overturning tables at a banquet hosted by the imperial family, or shouting while drunk.

The scene where everyone gasped when she poured wine on the head of some lady called Fritten is probably still vivid in the eyes of that dried pollack-brained Hans.

Although she had somehow calmed down recently, many in the Grand Duke’s household were still afraid of her.

Conversely, they sympathized with the Grand Duke to that extent. Even though he was the very person who had been insulted, bundled together with his wife’s misdeeds, he seemed to have forgotten it all already.

Fareld Son clicked his tongue and expressed quiet regret.

How dense can he be? Someone so thorough in work occasionally shows softness in strange areas.

The stranger part was that ‘those strange areas’ were, nine times out of ten, all related to Her Grace.

A foolish man who just gets hit when the woman beside him throws stones like that.

Fareld Son, erasing the relationship of superior and subordinate and viewing him purely as a fellow man, had defined him as such. Because the Grand Duke had never once held the Grand Duchess responsible no matter what trouble she caused.

He hadn’t even casually issued a warning. He just silently cleaned up the messes beside Her Grace.

Even when they fought… well.

It should be a situation where they argue with each other, but can you really call it a fight when one side just unilaterally pours out resentment?

Clearly, the Grand Duke becomes infinitely generous only towards his wife.

‘If only you’d do half of what you do for Her Grace to me. I’d carry you on my back.’

While I get scolded like catching mice, as if I’m some fried rice. Fareld grumbled complaints he wouldn’t be able to voice out loud anyway, then continued his thoughts.

Anyway, look at today as the closest evidence. After getting burned so badly at the last ball, he still tries to take care of Her Grace.

Of course, attendance at the banquet was mandatory for the Grand Duchess. But if the Grand Duchess didn’t attend, everyone would be relieved rather than surprised.

Fareld wanted to dissuade him too. In fact, everyone in the Grand Duke’s residence except one person was anxiously watching the Grand Duchess’s attendance. The problem was that the only exception happened to be the Grand Duke.

As Boreas finished descending the stairs and approached, Fareld Son put on a smile as if finely drawn.

It was a gentle smile as if he had never thought anything like, I hope Her Grace exercises her outstanding capriciousness and suddenly cancels her attendance.

* * *

At the same time, Selene, adorned with various splendid jewels, stood in front of the mirror and was startled by her own appearance.

She frowned with disbelieving eyes.

“…This looks too strange.”

There was some bizarre clown standing in the mirror.

The layers of powder thickly applied as if oil could be squeezed from her face, the heavily drawn eyeshadow, the hair styled so stiffly her neck might stiffen, and large jewels that didn’t match her frame.

None of it suited her. It was an appearance that would naturally make one’s face scrunch up just from looking at it, with its excessively colorful and gaudy nature.

Selene slowly turned around once to check her condition. Not only was mobility reduced, but her body felt too heavy above all.

As Selene looked in the mirror with a displeased expression, the maids who had helped with her adornment exclaimed hurriedly with pale faces.

“We’re sorry! We’ll bring out more jewels!”

The Grand Duchess wanted to excessively dress herself up every time she went to a banquet. Though they didn’t show it for fear of incurring her wrath, in their eyes, Selene’s fashion sense was, to put it crudely, completely hopeless.

The Grand Duchess’s most prominent physical features were her small and delicate frame, snow-white skin, and petite features. Moreover, her hair was a reddish color that evoked spring cherry blossoms rather than a fiercely burning sun.

However, the fashion she insisted on tended to bury rather than accentuate her strengths. The flashy dresses and strong makeup always looked unnatural on her, who suited a more subtle atmosphere. It was like a strange dish made by throwing in all sorts of delicious ingredients.

But whether she knew this or not, Her Grace always said it wasn’t enough and ordered more jewels to be brought. That’s why the maid shook her head and didn’t properly grasp the meaning of her words until the moment she opened the jewelry box.

“No. There’s no need for that. My body feels too heavy, so let’s remove some accessories.”

The command fell from lips that were too red. As this order was unexpected, the maid forgot her manners and stupidly questioned back.

“…Pardon?”

“This dress also has too much lace and is cumbersome. I’d like to change into a different dress. Could you also wipe off some of this makeup? My face feels stuffy.”

Such words were not likely to come from the Selene Adrian they knew.

The maids, who had been blinking in confusion and unable to hide their bewildered expressions, quickly lowered their gaze and began removing the accessories first.

* * *

Meanwhile, the corridors of the Grand Duke’s residence were bustling with the footsteps of busy servants. Boreas, who had finished preparations first, was having a serious business conversation with his aide.

“Then what shall we do?”

“Canceling an appointment two days in advance, what kind of behavior is that? The attitude is rotten from the start. Handle it.”

“Understood. I’ll relay that to Fareld Son as well.”

His mood, which was already unpleasant due to his dislike for events like banquets, worsened after hearing the other party’s absurd demands. There seemed to be little sign of his frown easing. Hans was pondering how to improve his mood when it happened.

A clear voice settled over the bustling first-floor lobby.

“Did you wait long?”

The moment Boreas turned his head towards the stairs where the voice was coming from, the wrinkles between his deeply furrowed brows began to gradually fade. The scene of a woman slowly descending the stairs was captured in his ash-gray eyes, which had noticeably hardened.

In an instant, the busy space was enveloped in an unfamiliar silence. In the quiet space, Boreas took in the sight of the woman approaching him, one step, two steps.

As in Trafalgar Square, the illusion that time was flowing only for that woman found him again.

Over the faces of those holding their breath, a light dawned as if they had just remembered a fact they had forgotten but should have known. However, for one person alone, it was a fact never forgotten at any moment in life.

Selene Adrian was a beautiful woman.