Chapter 104
Even while William was holding Iskan back, Jared couldn’t bring himself to move for quite some time. It was only when William seemed on the verge of losing his grip on Iskan that Jared snapped out of his daze and hurriedly descended the platform.
“Wait a moment. About that spice tax we discussed last time…”
William shot his younger brother a glare as he once again struggled to restrain Iskan. But despite his brother’s effort, Jared still hesitated, unable to step any closer to Aisha. The courage to approach her finally came only after he caught sight of her lips forming words to Ian.
Don’t come.
Even though Jared knew her gaze had deliberately avoided him, seeing those words on her lips felt as if his heart had dropped straight into the pit of his stomach. His heartbeat pounded in his ears, fast and uneven. It was guilt.
The rumors about the Marquis and that illegitimate girl only spread because of the Marquis’s past behavior. If he hadn’t left an opening, do you think such gossip would have spread so easily about a man already engaged?
Jared tried to tell himself—as William often did—that there was no need for him to feel guilty. That the fault lay entirely with the Marquis, who had become entangled with an illegitimate daughter while already betrothed. But Jared couldn’t shake the truth: introducing Helen to his father had only fanned the flames of the gossip linking Helen and Ian. More than that, it was undeniable that Aisha must have been hurt by it all. That fact alone weighed too heavily for him to dismiss his guilt.
The Marquis is one of the most sought-after bachelors in the Empire. If someone were to steal him away, it would only be fitting that it be you, wouldn’t it? Otherwise, wouldn’t the Count feel slighted?
Remembering those late words from his brother, Jared had nurtured a flicker of hope. And when he saw Aisha turn Ian away, he seized the chance without hesitation and asked her to dance. Regret swiftly followed—how shameless of him—but when Aisha placed her hand in his, that regret was swept aside by expectation.
“…It’s been a while since we danced together.”
“Yes. The last time was at the New Year’s banquet. Well over half a year ago now.”
Gazing at her lace-gloved hand, Jared was reminded of the very first time he had danced with Aisha. Back then, it had been spring—warm from sunlight rather than firewood—and for the first time in over five years of quietly watching from afar, he had held the hand of his first love.
It feels… a little different this time.
Slipping an arm around her waist, Jared noticed that Aisha felt nothing like the nervous girl she had been at their first dance. That day, she had worn a soft lavender dress, stiff with tension as she accepted his request. But tonight, she stood before him radiant in a bright yellow gown, smiling with ease. Jared swallowed hard as his eyes lingered on her lowered lashes and the corners of her lips, faintly curved upward.
…She’s still beautiful.
To him, she seemed unchanged despite the years. He could still see the girl in a white debut dress with an orange blossom crown, her cheeks flushed as she beamed at the guests. At twenty-one, Jared had been struck senseless by her. His heart had raced faster than during training, his legs had trembled—and yet, unable to move, he had stood rooted in place, imprinting the image of his very first love into his heart.
Now, just as then, Jared feared Aisha might notice the pounding of his chest. His gloved hand grew hot and damp, and he worried that his face must be as red as his hair.
But outwardly, Jared appeared perfectly composed. Oblivious to his turmoil, Aisha tilted her face up with a playful smile and broke the silence.
“What brings Your Highness to ask me for a dance today? Don’t tell me, like last time, it’s only because Her Majesty the Empress or His Highness the Crown Prince forced you to?”
“I didn’t ask you because I was forced!”
Her teasing made Jared stiffen and raise his voice a little too sharply. Startled, Aisha faltered mid-step and nearly lost her balance as they turned.
Jared quickly steadied her with his arm, pulling her back upright. Bowing his head, he muttered an apologetic whisper.
“Did I startle you? Forgive me.”
“It was my clumsiness. I should thank you instead, Your Highness.”
Seeing his downcast expression, Aisha shook her head quickly. Jared, looking into her smiling face, hesitated before speaking again.
“As I said that time…”
Don’t misunderstand. It wasn’t thoughtless when I asked you to dance. I wasn’t watching you… or rather, I was, but… I mean…
He faltered, just as he had back then, when he had failed to give her a proper answer.
The truth is, then and now, I’ve liked you so very much. That’s all there is to it.
The confession burned on his tongue, but Jared forced it back down. He already knew what her answer would be.
Hadn’t I promised myself to let go when she became engaged to the Marquis?
Back at the Marquis’s estate, when he’d fought childishly with Ian and collapsed, had Aisha ever once looked back at him? Later, the letter she sent—couched in careful words—had been clear in its meaning. And most recently, when they met on the balcony, hadn’t she immediately begged him to leave before Ian arrived?
Whether intentional or not, I’ve already caused her harm. I can’t go further. Whatever the current state between her and the Marquis, this would be wrong.
The memory of Aisha’s cold lips whispering don’t come toward Ian resurfaced. And so Jared swallowed his words. No matter what was between them now, she was still betrothed, and his confession would only burden her further.
“I’m sorry.”
“…Pardon?”
“I’m truly sorry.”
“Your Highness, what do you—”
Unable to explain his feelings, Jared thought instead of Helen and bowed his head in apology. Aisha blinked at him, confused, but he couldn’t elaborate. With a bitter expression, he simply closed his mouth.
“It was an honor to dance with you today.”
The short piece came to an end. Jared bowed with perfect courtesy to Aisha, who looked back at him wide-eyed in puzzlement. Flustered, she quickly lowered her own head in return.
“Well then…”
“I’m afraid I was too late. I thought the first dance would naturally be mine.”
Just as Jared was about to take his leave, a large hand suddenly thrust itself between him and Aisha.
Turning, Jared saw Iskan, having slipped free from William’s restraint, grinning broadly as he extended his hand to Aisha. Dressed in the traditional garb of the Kingdom of Asta—crimson robes, a black turban adorned with gold—his flamboyant attire made him stand out all the more.
“It seems His Highness is unfamiliar with imperial etiquette. A gentleman should wait until a lady’s partner has withdrawn before making a request.”
Jared, usually calm, bristled at the interruption. He had disliked Iskan from the beginning. Different culture or not, the man had six wives already, and yet he dared covet the woman Jared cherished. The thought alone made Jared itch to cut him down where he stood.
“And yet His Highness lectures on etiquette?”
Unlike Jared’s scowl, Iskan tilted his head back lazily, his triangular golden earrings chiming with a mocking jingle.
“What did you say?”
“To seize a chance by relying on another’s help—without decorum—is unbecoming, both as royalty and as a man.”
He trailed off, nodding toward the platform where William stood. When Jared turned, his brother shrugged, his expression practically shouting that he had done his best.
Shame burned across Jared’s face. He knew Iskan was right: without William’s help, he would never have secured Aisha’s first dance, perhaps not even dared to ask her at all.
Musicians struck up the next tune, and couples clasped hands across the floor. Jared glared at Iskan, but in the end he looked away and gave Aisha a small nod.
“…Lady Aisha, I shall take my leave.”
“Yes, Your Highness. It was an honor.”
Aisha, clearly uneasy about the tension between the two men, curtsied again. Jared’s green eyes lingered on her, filled with forlorn light, before he turned away.
“As expected, your popularity is astounding. Even the men of the Empire know beauty when they see it.”
The moment Jared disappeared, Iskan clasped Aisha’s hand without asking. Unlike the graceful melody before, the lively tune demanded quick steps, hands interlocked tightly.
“Now, forget the man who’s gone, and keep your promise. One dance with me.”
Aisha’s eyes flicked once to Jared’s retreating back, but Iskan leaned in close, his face brushing hers. His hot breath against her ear made her recoil slightly.
But before she could protest, the music surged, and with firm strength Iskan pulled her closer against him. Though the closeness was uncomfortable, Aisha had given her word—and the dance had already begun—so she moved her feet in silence.
