Roselia froze at Klaus’s sudden question.
What on earth was he babbling about?
Blinking in bewilderment, she swallowed her anxiety and asked cautiously, “W-why do you ask that?”
At first, he had only brought it up as a pretext to see Roselia more often, intending to test his own feelings as a man. However, seeing how visibly nervous Antonio was, a strange, dark emotion welled up within him—a sudden, goddamn urge to make the man angry, to make him jealous.
“Because I’m interested.”
The tone was indifferent, as flat as a demand for a debt repayment, but the weight of the words made Roselia gasp.
She had endured this entire ordeal to rewrite the fate of the original Roselia, who was destined to die after being toyed with as the Duke’s woman. If it came to this, had all her efforts been in vain?
With her internal alarm bells screaming, she blurted out the first thing that came to mind in her desperation.
“That won’t do!”
Klaus’s brows furrowed in confusion at her firm refusal.
“Why?”
“Because… that… that is…”
Klaus waited patiently for her to finish.
Pushed to the edge of a cliff, Roselia finally squeezed her eyes shut and forced out, “Roselia has a lover.”
She bit the inside of her cheek, keeping her eyes tightly closed. Regret washed over her a second too late, but she reasoned there was no refusal more absolute than this. The priority was to sever the Duke’s interest, no matter the cost; she simply needed to escape this immediate crisis.
However, upon hearing her answer, Klaus stared at her intently, his brow tilting in displeasure.
“A lover, you say? You have a lover, and you’ve just sat by and watched her live like that?”
Klaus, assuming Roselia was still working in a tavern, asked coldly. And what of that crumbling house, anyway? He was certain that if he were her lover, he would have dragged her out of that squalor immediately.
Roselia met his suspicious gaze and continued, her tone as blunt as she could manage.
“We made promises when we were young, so he is currently living far away. But regardless, we have promised each other a future. A lover is a lover.”
It was a plausible enough lie to conjure a phantom man. Klaus remained stiff, his skepticism unwavering.
“When exactly were these promises made?”
“When doesn’t matter! Roselia’s heart is what matters! My younger sister has no intention of ever meeting another man while that lover exists! No, she won’t!”
At her firm declaration, Klaus stared at her steadily before the corners of his mouth suddenly curled upward.
“If there’s no guard at the castle gate, isn’t it fine to just break on in?”
Roselia’s eyes widened at the metaphor. Was he implying that since there was no goalkeeper, he felt free to shoot?
Stunned into silence, she quickly regained her composure and shook her head.
“T-that’s clearly trespassing!”
At her indignant protest, Klaus folded his hands and asked calmly.
“Do you dislike me showing interest in Roselia?”
“Of course I do!”
At her immediate response, Klaus regarded her with a meaningful expression.
“Why? Given my status and appearance, I shouldn’t be lacking in any regard, should I?”
Is he actually bragging about himself to her face?
Despite the arrogance of the words, his expression wasn’t boastful; he looked so serious, as if stating an objective, realistic fact, that Roselia was left dumbfounded.
“What kind of older brother would be happy about his sister being held hostage by a debt collector?”
“A hostage… well, perhaps the sister’s opinion might be different?”
“Roselia would share my opinion!”
At her unwavering assurance, Klaus fixed his gaze on her.
“Why are you so disgusted by it?”
“I told you a moment ago. As her brother…”
“Is there no other reason?”
Roselia stared at him, puzzled by the sudden turn. He was watching her intently, as if waiting for a different answer.
“Another reason?”
As she looked at him, confused, he suddenly brushed his bangs back, avoided her gaze, and changed the subject.
“Never mind. My business with you is done, so you may leave.”
Roselia stood there blankly, bewildered by the shift.
“I said you may leave. Did you not hear me?”
At his cold tone, she finally came to her senses, bowed her head, and turned to leave. Even as she stepped out into the hall, she tilted her head in confusion.
Only after the door clicked shut did Klaus frantically run a hand over his face.
“Haah…”
What kind of words had he been hoping to hear?
He felt only more confused because he could guess exactly what reactions and words he had been fishing for.
Hadn’t he been drawn to Roselia?
The attraction he felt toward her was certainly intense, undeniable. What baffled him was that he felt a similar, conflicting reaction toward someone he absolutely should not be feeling such things for.
He was on the verge of going insane over a sensation he couldn’t even fathom.
“Dammit, get a grip.”
Muttering to himself, he pressed a hand to his forehead and leaned back in his chair.
His broad shoulders, left alone in the vast, quiet study, looked lonely that day.
* * *
Three days passed in the blink of an eye.
It was the day of the Laphelios Delegation Welcoming Banquet, which Ikelia had been singing about for weeks.
Closette and Roselia were on their way to the Imperial Palace in the ducal carriage, dressed in Laphelios-style gowns gifted by the Crown Princess. Outside, countless carriages of nobles invited by the Imperial couple lined the path to the palace.
“My goodness, Roselia. It seems like every noble in the Empire is gathered for tonight’s banquet.”
Closette pressed herself against the carriage window, pouring out her admiration at the endless parade of finery.
Roselia let out a heavy sigh.
“I don’t think I’m in a position to attend, really.”
“What are you saying! You are a guest of honor invited by Her Highness the Crown Princess, aren’t you?”
“But I can hardly be considered a noble anymore.”
At Roselia’s dispirited voice, Closette retorted with a pout.
“What does lineage matter? If you received an invitation, you’re the same guest as anyone else.”
Roselia smiled faintly at the blunt words, finding some comfort. She had once thought Closette merely a haughty young lady, but the girl often spoke with a maturity that belied her age. Perhaps it was because she had grown up starved for the affection of her family that she had hardened so quickly.
As her thoughts reached that point, Roselia’s heart grew heavy, and she smiled even more brightly at her companion.
“You will be the most beautiful woman at the banquet tonight, My Lady.”
It was an honest sentiment, but Closette replied with a mischievous smile.
“Roselia, you have no idea how beautiful you are today.”
Roselia looked down at her own attire with a blank expression. The gown was accented with emerald jewelry around her neck and wrists, which had previously been bare. Unlike the voluminous artificial blonde hair she usually wore, her wig was elegantly pinned up in the Laphelios style.
The long, white neck and rounded shoulders exposed beneath the updo, decorated with emeralds that perfectly matched her eyes, made her stand out. Unlike the proud expression on Closette’s face, Roselia felt exposed and self-conscious, merely stroking her arms with a listless expression.
“Is the Duke coming separately?”
At her question, Closette replied bluntly.
“It seems he has already gone to the Imperial Palace to greet the delegation.”
Klaus was busy with his personal affairs, but as one of the three highest-ranking aristocrats, he surely had matters involving the Imperial family beyond his business.
As the carriage slowed to a halt, it was their turn to disembark. With the coachman’s escort, they stepped out.
Perhaps because it was a banquet welcoming a foreign delegation rather than a simple party, the path to the banquet hall was blindingly magnificent. As they stepped onto the red carpet, shimmering under the evening lights, and moved toward the grand entrance—
“Lady Closette?”
At the familiar yet unpleasant voice, both turned their heads.
Jucid, dressed in a flamboyant red gown, was laughing while covering her lips with a folding fan. She had been absent for a while, but it seemed Delmont Jucid had finally decided to grace the banquet with her presence.
“It’s been a while, Lady Jucid. Is your waist feeling any better?”
The memory of the past, when she had been kicked in the side by Closette and sent flying, caused Jucid’s face to flush red with resentment. However, having been caught acting in a manner unbecoming of a lady, she was in no position to argue and could only fume inwardly.
While Closette scoffed, Jucid regained her composure and spoke with feigned nonchalance.
“It seems you didn’t bring the ‘Il Domestico’ along today?”
Jucid’s gaze then shifted to Roselia, who stood beside Closette.
“And this young lady is…”
“She is my friend.”
Seeing Closette’s defiant expression—a look that dared her to challenge it—Jucid frowned and scanned Roselia once more.
“There shouldn’t be a noble lady I don’t know. I suppose she’s from a family of low-ranking nobility?”
“What does lineage matter? Roselia is a guest officially invited by Her Highness the Crown Princess.”
At Closette’s bold words, Jucid’s eyes widened in genuine surprise.
“Her Highness the Crown Princess, you say? How unexpected. But…”
Jucid suddenly narrowed her eyes and scanned Roselia’s face.
“It is certain that this is my first time seeing this face, yet she looks strangely familiar.”
Roselia felt a chill run down her spine.