Chapter 8
The Duke and the Princess
The Duke and his attendants all stopped walking at once.
“Y-Your Highness, the Princess…!”
The Duke’s men turned around and froze in shock.
No one had expected the Imperial Princess to suddenly appear here of all places.
But even so, not one of them looked pleased to see me.
Their eyes didn’t show respect or courtesy for their master’s fiancée — they looked like they had just spotted a dangerous stalker.
‘Well, I can’t blame them. Considering what the original Eve was like…’
The men hesitated, then quickly bowed.
“Greetings to Her Highness, the Princess.”
And at that moment, the black-haired man at the front slowly turned around.
My favorite novel, The Flower of Tragedy, never had any illustrations.
Only the heroine appeared on the cover; the male lead and other characters were left to the reader’s imagination.
The author’s vague descriptions — “handsome,” “extremely handsome,” “a face like a sculpture” — didn’t exactly help me picture him clearly.
But they did repeat one thing again and again: the Duke was the most beautiful man in the world.
‘I expected him to be good-looking, but…’
His hair was black as the night sky, and his eyes shone with a deep violet glow.
His face was flawless — so beautiful it almost didn’t seem real.
‘He’s ten times… no, twenty times more handsome than I imagined.’
Now I understood why the author kept emphasizing his looks so obsessively.
The gray marble pillars, the snow-covered garden beyond the corridor, and the tall man standing against that pure white backdrop — it was like a painting come to life.
He didn’t even have to move; just standing there made the whole scene look like a magazine photo shoot.
And seeing him up close, I could completely understand why Eve had fallen so madly in love with him.
‘Though it’s not just his face that’s impressive.’
He was a brilliant commander who had won countless victories and ruled the northern territories of the Empire with absolute power.
‘And strong enough to threaten even the Emperor himself.’
Even to me — someone who barely understood politics — it was obvious that if the Emperor couldn’t destroy this man, he’d always remain a danger to the throne.
As I stared at him, the Duke began to walk toward me.
A faint flicker of irritation crossed his perfectly sculpted eyes.
Then he gave a polite bow.
“Your Highness.”
His deep voice carried a calm authority.
“What brings you here?”
He didn’t sound angry, which surprised me — I had expected him to yell.
But that was the only courtesy he showed.
Though his tone was polite, the cold, violet eyes clearly said: If you don’t have business here, leave.
I caught myself staring blankly at his face before shaking my head quickly.
“Your Grace, the Duke.”
I stepped forward, holding out the bouquet I’d brought from the temple garden.
“May I offer you a gift — the flower of the Sacred Tree?”
Before giving it to him, I gently brushed the white bud at its center.
Between the soft petals was a small, folded piece of paper — a hidden note.
Right now, there was only one person I could possibly ask for help.
Two people would suffer most from Eve’s death: Eve herself, and this man in front of me.
And in the current situation, the Duke was the only one powerful enough to oppose the Emperor.
If I wanted to survive, I needed his help.
‘But I can’t just tell him everything outright — not here.’
The capital was full of eyes and ears loyal to the Emperor.
If I made even one suspicious move, it would be reported immediately.
Still, no one would think it strange if I asked the Duke to accept a flower.
After all, the old Eve constantly chased after him, always begging him to accept her gifts.
‘Even if she always got rejected…’
The Duke’s gaze dropped to the bouquet in my hands.
He studied it carefully, like I was trying to sell him something suspicious.
“There’s no hidden meaning,” I said quickly before he could refuse.
“I just wanted to apologize.”
“Apologize?” he repeated, his voice low and smooth — too smooth.
“Yes. I was terribly rude to you before, and I wanted to make amends.”
He tilted his head slightly.
“Are you referring to the incident at the Sabillenga ball,” he asked evenly, “where you threw a glass statue at the person beside me? Or perhaps when you mistook my aide for a woman, pulled her hair, and attacked her?”
“…”
The original story barely mentioned those incidents.
Apparently, the real Eve was even worse than the book described.
“…All of them,” I admitted, trying my hardest to look sincerely remorseful.
But the Duke’s violet eyes were cold and skeptical. There wasn’t a hint of belief in them — only polite contempt.
I bowed my head deeply.
“I’m truly sorry. I won’t bother you again.”
“I see,” he replied coolly.
“When you said that a month ago, you showed up at my training ground three days later — but very well. I’ll believe you this time.”
His words sounded polite, but the message was clear: Go home.
I hurried to speak before I lost my chance.
“I donated my jewels to the temple and received this flower in return,” I said. “It’s a flower of blessing and good fortune. Soon, when—”
“I don’t need it,” he cut me off sharply.
“I accept your apology, but please give the flower to someone who truly needs its blessing.”
His tone was calm and formal, but his eyes left no room for argument.
The flower of the Sacred Tree was a symbol of luck and divine favor — even an Emperor would have gladly accepted it.
But this man refused it without hesitation, without even letting me finish my sentence.
‘Wow… he really hates me.’
I could feel it — that deep, unmistakable disgust.
He didn’t even bother hiding it anymore.
And honestly, he had every reason to hate her.
The foolish, selfish princess who had forced him into an unwanted marriage.
The same princess who had publicly fasted and thrown tantrums to make him agree.
And from his point of view, she was also the Emperor’s daughter — the daughter of his greatest enemy.
Why would he ever want to marry her?
Especially when she was known to be shallow and ill-tempered.
‘Yeah… no wonder he hates me. Anyone would.’
As I stood there speechless, the Duke inclined his head slightly and turned to leave.
“Then, I’ll see you on our wedding day.”
He started walking away again, clearly done with the conversation.
‘No—!’
Panic rose in my chest.
‘I have to get this flower to him. I have to!’
Before I could think, my body moved on its own.
I rushed forward, cutting in front of him to block his path.
His attendants froze, looking startled.
The Duke stopped and stared at me in disbelief.
“What are you doing?”
“Our conversation isn’t over yet,” I said firmly.
Good thing Eve had a reputation as a stalker, I thought grimly.
Otherwise, anyone else doing this would’ve been called insane.
“Please, just listen to me for a moment.”
The Duke’s patience finally seemed to reach its limit.
His handsome face twisted with irritation and disbelief.
“…Ha.”
He let out a short laugh — not an amused one, but the kind you make when you can’t believe someone’s nerve.
Then he walked toward me again.
I didn’t even have time to move before he closed the distance between us.
He stopped so close that I could feel his breath.
A faint musk — warm, masculine, and intoxicating — filled my senses.
“Your Highness,” he said quietly.
But there was no warmth in his eyes.
The sharp violet irises gleamed like a predator’s.
It felt like he could see straight through me.
I instinctively tried to step back — but he caught my arm.
Leaning close, he whispered coldly into my ear, his voice low and deadly:
“If you bother me one more time, I’ll snap that pretty neck of yours.”
“…!”
My hand trembled before I even realized it.
