“Lord Callinan’s heart has grown cold.”
A silence as sharp as cold water being poured over one’s head fell upon the terrace. Lylaina could no longer sit still. Rising from her seat, the princess spoke with uncharacteristic firmness.
“Lady Hazel Luxan, that’s enough. What is the meaning of this insolence? This is my gathering. Do you take me for a fool?”
“I beg your pardon, Your Highness.”
Hazel bowed deeply. Beside her, Rabian’s complexion had turned almost white. She couldn’t even lift her teacup. Before anyone could gauge Dianther’s expression, Hazel spoke again.
“But, Princess Lylaina, I assure you I would never dare treat Your Highness with such disrespect.”
“Then what would you call this? You speak of the Grand Duke’s finances, of Dianther’s fiancé—do you not find that inappropriate?”
“As for that, I have no excuse to offer Lady Dianther. My behavior was indeed discourteous.”
Her quick admission only left Lylaina more unsettled.
What on earth is she trying to do? Is this some sort of twisted game?
Though Lylaina and Hazel Luxan were neither close nor estranged—just acquaintances within the social sphere— Lylaina had never heard of Hazel behaving like this. In fact, Hazel was known to have many admirers among the nobility. For someone like her to act this way…
Lylaina bit down on her lip.
Whatever the reason, if she failed to contain this situation now, it would surely tarnish her dignity as a princess. She knew that subtle rivalries and social skirmishes were common in noble circles, but her mother had always advised her not to intervene personally. Still, to sit idle amid this chaos was unthinkable.
She had thought she was ready—after the success of the royal tea party—to host her own small gatherings under the royal name. But when faced with this kind of turmoil, she still had no idea how to act.
“Then what—”
“I only wished to tell Lady Dianther something important, even if it meant taking on the role of the rude one. If Your Highness will permit, I will see this through myself. It’s fine if I’m the only one to be hated.”
Before Lylaina could answer, the sound of laughter broke through the tension. It was Dianther’s—light as a sigh, yet unmistakably edged. Lylaina’s gaze immediately turned toward her.
“Your Highness, I apologize for showing you such an unpleasant scene. Still, I would ask your permission to finish this conversation with Lady Hazel Luxan.”
“…Will you be all right, Dianther?”
“I’ll be fine, Your Highness.”
Dianther’s calm, unwavering tone left Lylaina no choice but to nod.
Dianther turned her gaze toward Hazel. Hazel met it without hesitation. Even now, those water-colored eyes were impossibly serene and graceful—so beautiful it almost felt unfair. Beautiful enough that one might feel the urge to ruin them.
Dianther spoke slowly.
“Very well, Lady Hazel. If you have something to say, then say it plainly. This isn’t a very elegant scene for the Princess to witness.”
“Ah, Lady Dianther, that sounds almost hurtful. Despite my tone, I’m here to help you, you know. I admit my way of speaking was impolite, but surely you understand why.”
Girls like you—those who live with flowers in their heads—need to be shaken awake. Otherwise, you never learn.
Hazel smiled sweetly, her eyes curving like crescent moons.
“The first assumption I made was false. That was entirely my mistake. I lied. If you were to swear never to see me again because of it, I’d deserve it. How could I possibly suggest that the Grand Duchy of Aspania, capable of feeding all of Martina for a year, would ever face financial strain?”
“Then what you mean, Lady Hazel, is that you said that only to emphasize your second assumption?”
“As expected—you’re quite perceptive. So very clever.”
The sarcasm in her voice was unmistakable. The faint smile on Dianther’s face disappeared. With it went every trace of warmth—her expression now cold and immaculate, as if sculpted from frost. Lylaina thought that in this moment, Dianther resembled the Grand Duke more than ever. There was something about her presence—her quiet authority—that froze words on one’s tongue.
“So, Lady Hazel, your second claim… is that my fiancé has lost interest in me. You might as well have said it outright instead of dancing around it. Are you afraid of my reaction?”
“Afraid? Of you? No, Lady Dianther, it’s you who should be afraid—unless you truly prefer to live inside your little delusion.”
Hazel sighed and shook her head, as though lamenting some great misfortune.
“It’s such a pity, really. I only wanted to help. But, oh, it’s so hard to speak when one’s heart is too soft.”
Her hazel-brown eyes shifted from Dianther to the maid standing behind her. Dianther’s temporary maid, Lucy, flinched as their gazes met. Hazel’s eyes widened in feigned surprise.
“Oh my, Lady Dianther. Now that I think about it, that maid of yours isn’t here today, is she?”
“What are you talking about?”
“The maid you’re always seen with. I heard you’ve grown quite fond of her—that you treat her very well. Almost like a friend, in fact. What a ridiculous rumor. A noblewoman calling a servant her friend? Unthinkable.”
“I fail to see the point of this conversation.”
“Do you really? You don’t know why I’m bringing this up?”
“No.”
“How unfortunate…” Hazel murmured behind her hand.
“In that case, I suppose I’ll have to play the villain for your sake.”
Her eyes curved prettily again as she said,
“Lady Dianther, you really ought to keep a tighter rein on your servants.”
“What are you—”
“If you make it so easy, of course a lowborn maid would find it tempting to toy with your fiancé. Right there, under your own roof.”
“…What did you just say?”
It was Princess Lylaina who demanded the clarification.
“I told you, didn’t I?”
Hazel said, tapping her silver knife lightly against her plate.
“The flowers at your mansion that day were so very beautiful.”
Her laughter rang, bright and cutting.
________✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧𓉞___________
“…Sister, what’s wrong?”
“…”
“Sis…”
It felt like I was drowning again, head shoved beneath the surface. The world that had once been so kind to me was turning back to its cold, blue-tinted self. A color that wasn’t warm—only piercingly cold. My fingertips began to numb. My body stiffened, as if frozen.
Then, a hand touched mine.
Arthur’s. His worried eyes met mine, and the warmth of his palm chased away the chill that had wrapped around my heart.
Only then could I breathe again.
“…Arthur.”
“Sis, are you okay? Does it hurt somewhere?”
“I’m fine. Sorry… Did I scare you?”
“No. I’m just glad you’re okay.”
“Arthur, can you stay here for a bit? Just a moment, all right?”
“Why? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing serious. I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere, okay?”
“Mm…”
After repeating my request several times, I finally got him to nod. I ruffled his hair before standing up. When I looked back, he was still sitting obediently where I’d left him. He was ten now—old enough not to get lost—but in a crowded place like this, it would be easy to lose sight of one another. I didn’t want to ruin his day. So I hurried on.
Toward the shadow that had lingered at the edge of my vision—toward the place it had slithered into like a snake.
“Haa… haa…”
My breath came ragged as I pressed a hand to my knee. I’d run so hard, yet somehow lost him. His trail vanished somewhere along the way.
I lifted my head. The narrow, winding alley before me was a maze—the kind of place I’d never entered before. The sliver of sky above looked like torn fabric.
Maybe I should just go back. Arthur’s waiting…
“What are you doing here?”
“…!”
The voice came from behind me. I spun around. My heart was pounding—whether from the run or from the dread rising inside me, I couldn’t tell.
“…Canton.”
“Amel. So you were looking for me. How surprising—you actually came to find me first.”
“Hah. You saw me at the park earlier. If I hadn’t come, you would’ve approached me anyway. Even with Arthur right there.”
“Haha. You’re quick. I like that.”
Louizar Canton grinned, hands shoved casually in his pockets.
“But quick wit isn’t everything. You need to think too. You talk about Arthur so much—it’s annoying.”
“What…?”
“Don’t say his name in front of me.”
His tone dropped to a whisper.
“You’ll just make me want to do something bad.”
You bastard.
My fists clenched so tightly my nails dug into my palms, sharp enough to draw blood. But I barely felt it.
Louizar Canton stepped closer. I stumbled backward, forcing strength into my trembling legs. I needed to get away—but behind me was only a dark, dead-end alley. The main street lay beyond his shoulder.
Hopeless. I wasn’t fast enough, nor strong enough, to shove past a grown man. There was no way out.
Still, I lifted my chin and glared at him, forcing my shaking voice to hold steady.
“Try laying a finger on my brother. You’ll regret it. You won’t get a single coin of what you’re owed.”
