1.
‘Wouldn’t it be fine for me to just go back home now?’
The Imperial banquet, held to celebrate the victory in the Kifren War, was blindingly magnificent. The sheer scale of it was overwhelming, and standing alone against the wall, failing to receive a single dance invitation, only deepened her sense of isolation.
Harriet looked around, gauging the room to see if she could slip away unnoticed.
Her uncle, Viscount Listerwell, was nearby, but he was busy parading his son, Aston, before various acquaintances, desperate to make an impression. He spared no glance for Harriet. Even if he hadn’t been occupied, it was unlikely he would have spared her a thought.
‘Where are my aunt and Bella?’
Her aunt was nowhere to be seen. In all likelihood, she had already retreated to a side room with the other ladies, kicked off her shoes, and settled into a comfortable gossip session.
Harriet scanned the groups of young men one last time. Bella would be there.
Sure enough, Bella was surrounded by a dense circle of admirers, flanked by her usual retinue of friends.
‘Typical of the Golden Rose of Genoa.’
Harriet tightened her jaw, forcing a neutral expression to mask the sneer that threatened to break through.
Did those men have any idea what lay behind that angelically bright smile?
Having confirmed that the Viscount’s family was preoccupied with their own social climbing, Harriet turned toward the exit.
But at that moment, the room plunged into pitch black.
“Huh? What is this?”
“Is it a power outage?”
The crowd around her surged in confusion, their voices sharp with alarm. They were clearly as bewildered as she was, though surely not as flustered as Harriet, whose escape plan had just been derailed.
Soon, an Imperial protocol officer shouted over the murmur.
“Please stay calm! We will turn on the emergency lighting shortly!”
The servants, apparently prepared for this, quickly lit oil lamps. As the conductor signaled for a violin performance to fill the void, the soft, amber glow transformed the chaos into an intimate, atmospheric scene.
The guests, now relieved, realized the true nature of the darkness.
“Ah! This must be the brooch-pinning event!”
“I’d heard it was a new trend at recent banquets, but I didn’t know the Imperial Family would adopt it, too.”
“Since the war is over, I suppose they’re encouraging us to find our partners. Ho ho ho.”
Secretly pinning a brooch to a lady’s dress had become the height of romantic confession.
A lady would spend the blackout imagining the owner of the pin she held, only to face either joy or crushing disappointment when the man approached her days later to say, “I’ve come to retrieve what I entrusted to you.” Naturally, as the world rarely catered to such dreams, disappointment was far more common.
“It’s also quite the spectacle to see whose dress collects the most pins.”
“Won’t that young lady Bella be in first place again?”
Harriet, bracing herself against the careless men rushing past, let out a soft, dry laugh.
‘She’ll pretend to be modest, weighed down by all those trinkets. And she’ll likely ruin the dresses of the girls standing near her, too.’
The men wouldn’t have an easy time of it either. Bella was charming to the gentlemen who courted her, but she drew a razor-sharp line with those who dared to be too bold.
‘If it were me, I’d at least shed a tear in gratitude.’
Harriet clicked her tongue.
If someone were to pin a brooch to her dress, she would marry him—provided he didn’t have any glaring defects. What did a minor flaw matter if it meant ending her existence as a dependent in her uncle’s home?
But no brooch would ever find its way to her.
“Oh! Who is that?”
“Eek!”
Shrieks of feigned shock and coquettish delight erupted throughout the hall. Avoiding the spectacle, Harriet let out a shallow sigh and waited for the light to return.
Five minutes passed in the stifling, bustling dark. Finally, the chandeliers overhead flickered and burst into a blinding, steady radiance.
The band resumed their piece, and the room dissolved into a flurry of activity as ladies began checking their hemlines for the results of the hidden confessions.
Harriet was about to slip away when a voice cut through the air behind her.
“Oh my, Harriet! What is that?”
Bella, who had been across the hall when the lights went out, was now standing just a few paces away, pointing at Harriet’s skirt.
‘When did she get over here?’
Harriet, startled, followed Bella’s finger.
Pinned to the hem of the modest dress she had tailored for the night was a ruby brooch—elegant, vibrant, and undeniably expensive.
“W-what is this?”
Harriet froze, her eyes wide, as Bella stepped closer.
“Someone must want to confess to you! Looking at such a deep red ruby, they must be a very passionate person, don’t you think?”
“Huh? T-that’s impossible…”
“Is there no one who comes to mind?”
“No! Not at all. They must have mistaken me for someone else. It was pitch black, after all.”
“No way, that’s impossible! Harriet, you are truly so humble.”
Bella laughed, a sound like glass beads hitting a floor, and tapped Harriet on the shoulder. Her laughter acted as a siren, drawing her friends and admirers into a tight, judgmental circle around them.
The gazes directed at Harriet were cold, sharpened by skepticism.
“How interesting. Who on earth could it be? The man who desires Miss Harriet Listerwell.”
“Well, tastes do vary, I suppose.”
“Is this a matter of taste? It’s a matter of reputation.”
Each word was tossed out like a jest, yet aimed with the precision of a dagger.
Harriet, as she always did, chose to play the fool. She had no one to defend her, and there was no profit in a retort. Instead, she unpinned the ruby to examine it.
The size of the stone alone was worth a fortune, but the intricate platinum setting and the quality of the surrounding diamonds were even more impressive.
‘The style is a bit dated. Which suggests the owner is likely quite old.’
That made sense. No man of her own age would have the courage—or the desperation—to pin his heart to her sleeve.
He was surely past his prime, perhaps a widower. He might have grown children, or perhaps he carried some secret, disabling vice.
‘But he does seem to be wealthy.’
To carelessly pin a brooch of this value to a dress in the dark meant the man had money to burn.
Then that was fine.
Harriet steeled herself. If the owner of this brooch hadn’t made a mistake, she would accept his proposal without hesitation.
She wouldn’t even blink if a man of fifty stepped forward to claim it.
Even a mercenary marriage, a transaction of wealth for youth, was more than she could reasonably hope for.
“It’s a lovely brooch. Who could the owner be? I did see a few gentlemen wearing ruby brooches today…”
Bella’s prattling brought Harriet back to reality. The crowd was already racking their brains, whispering about who might have been wearing such an ornament.
Harriet didn’t want Bella to see the desperate hope flickering behind her eyes.
“No, it really must be a mistake. I should keep it safe and return it. It looks like a very valuable item.”
“Hmm, if that’s the case, why not pin it to your chest just in case? If it really was an error, wouldn’t you want to give the owner a chance to notice it?”
“Huh?”
Bella’s logic was sound, but Harriet hesitated. If it was a mistake, how mortifying would it be for them both if she stood there, wearing a token meant for someone else?
As Harriet wavered, Caroline, one of Bella’s circle, let out a sharp, jeering laugh.
“It seems Harriet wants to hoard the brooch, and we’ve spoken without thinking.”
“N-no, that’s not it!”
Harriet decided to pin the brooch to her bodice as Bella suggested.
She no longer cared about the potential humiliation. Her reputation was already in tatters; it couldn’t possibly get any worse.
“Would anyone recognize it at this distance?”
“Of course. But I believe you are in for a romantic confession. Our Harriet is so kind and cute, after all!”
Bella hugged her tightly.
To any onlooker, it would appear to be an affectionate moment between cousins. Harriet gave a strained smile and gripped Bella’s arms, holding her back. She would have preferred to shove her away, but for now, the pretense remained.
“Bella, you are the one who is so kind. Your parents, too.”
“That’s true. If it were me…”
“Hey, what are you all saying? If we go on like this, what does that make Bella?”
Bella smiled, radiating a practiced, modest light before her friends, who had no room in their hearts for anyone but her.
“What am I? It is you all who have far too high an opinion of me.”