Chapter 10
“What did you say?”
Dahlia snapped out of her thoughts and quickly lifted her head. Ulysses gently wrapped his arm around her shoulders again, speaking in his usual kind tone.
“I said we should go inside. The night air is chilly. Come now, Dahlia.”
“…Yes.”
Dahlia entered the ballroom almost as if she were being escorted in. However, Ulysses couldn’t stay by her side for long. Many young nobles were eager to speak with the crown prince of the Empire.
“Dahlia. Wait here for a moment. I’ll return soon.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
Dahlia let him go, trying to show she wasn’t worried. Almost immediately, the small group who had at least treated Dahlia kindly under Evelyn’s pressure began swarming around her again.
“Lady Hebe, it’s been a while.”
“Oh, Lady Mish.”
“I was just about to tell you—Lady Evelyn has gotten engaged.”
Lady Mish whispered behind her hand.
“To none other than the Marquis Celestian. After all that fuss about how only His Highness would do, and now she’s flipped sides so quickly.”
“Exactly. And poor Lady Hebe was the one who suffered.”
Dahlia simply smiled at their gossip without joining in. Her lack of participation in their backbiting made the ladies impatient, and they were just about to say something further when—
“Dahlia, I’m sorry to keep you waiting.”
“Your Highness.”
Ulysses returned after finishing his greetings and came to her side. The ladies, startled, quickly stepped back, and Ulysses clicked his tongue.
“What were they saying to you?”
“Nothing important, Your Highness.”
“That’s a relief, then. Come, shall we dance?”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
Dahlia took his hand and stepped into the center of the hall. But neither she nor Ulysses could focus on the dance. Dahlia’s mind was in turmoil.
Raphael Celestian, the Marquis. She hadn’t expected him to be Evelyn’s fiancé.
‘He doesn’t even seem better than me in any way.’
Ulysses, too, wore a puzzled expression. Raphael had always been a background figure in social circles. Yet tonight, he stood out just as much as Evelyn did.
Ulysses had to admit—when dressed up, Raphael was handsome. But it was a completely different kind of handsome compared to himself. Not the type of face Evelyn should have liked.
Meanwhile, Dahlia couldn’t hide her disappointment either.
‘…I thought we were similar.’
She had looked into Raphael after returning home. A marquis, not particularly poor, yet modestly dressed, with a kind hand that offered her a handkerchief, and earnest eyes.
He seemed like a respectable, likable man. Of course, it wasn’t love. Dahlia already had Ulysses.
But the moment she learned he was Evelyn’s fiancé, it felt like being hit in the head with a hammer.
“Evelyn, I brought you a drink.”
“Perfect timing. I was just getting thirsty. Sharp as ever.”
Dahlia turned her gaze toward Evelyn and Raphael, standing not too far away, inseparable.
The way Raphael looked at Evelyn—those eyes were nothing like when he’d seen Dahlia in the street. They were unmistakably the eyes of a man in love.
Evelyn’s eyes were a bit different. The obsessive love she once had for Ulysses had been replaced by something else, and it actually looked better on her.
‘Does she like Raphael more than His Highness now?’
Dahlia had never seen Evelyn with such a healthy expression in her eyes. No one could claim it was a fake engagement now.
A twisting discomfort bloomed in Dahlia’s chest. Her expression darkened, and only after the dance ended did Ulysses seem to notice.
“Dahlia, are you feeling unwell?”
“…No. It’s just a bit stuffy in here. I’d like some air.”
“Shall we go to the terrace, then?”
Dahlia shook her head, declining his offer.
“It’s fine. Your Highness must be busy. Besides, I don’t want to start any rumors.”
Not knowing her true feelings, Ulysses was touched by her thoughtfulness and agreed to let her go.
Dahlia opened the curtain to the terrace and stepped out alone, her smile disappearing the moment she was away from the crowd.
Even in the cool night air, her chest still felt tight.
“…So annoying.”
Dahlia leaned on the railing and let out a deep sigh, her head bowed low.
“Lady Hebe.”
“…!”
Startled by the voice calling her name, Dahlia spun around. It was Evelyn. How rude—coming in when someone else was already there.
Dahlia had always felt that money and status didn’t necessarily equal refinement—Evelyn was the perfect example of that. Of course, she couldn’t show what she was thinking, so she bowed politely.
“Pardon me. I’ll give you some space.”
But as she tried to walk past, Evelyn stretched out her arm, blocking the exit.
“…My lady?”
Dahlia looked up at her in confusion. Evelyn, unusually composed, asked with a smirk:
“You said you were annoyed. What’s bothering you?”
“…!”
“Hmm? I asked what’s bothering you.”
Dahlia felt her heart sink. Had Evelyn heard her muttering to herself earlier?
No one had ever seen her like that before. And to be caught—by Evelyn of all people—it made her want to flee.
But wait.
‘Why should I run away?’
Her gaze sharpened. Evelyn always cornered her, and Dahlia always backed down. Even though Dahlia had already won Ulysses.
She raised her head.
“Lady Hebe. Did you not hear me?”
Evelyn stepped forward, cornering Dahlia against the terrace railing.
‘Those eyes again.’
That look of disdain. Dahlia hated Evelyn’s arrogant gaze. Anger surged within her, and she clenched her fists as she asked,
“Do you think I’m some kind of joke?”
“What?”
Evelyn’s eyebrow twitched. Normally, Dahlia would’ve flinched and trembled in fear—but not this time.
With no one watching, Dahlia spoke up.
“If you’d lied and said you no longer loved His Highness just to get his attention, I would’ve understood. But now you’re suddenly engaged?”
“You don’t like that I’m engaged?”
“No, I don’t.”
Evelyn’s eyebrow twitched again, this time clearly in anger. Dahlia pressed on, her eyes welling with tears.
“If you were just going to give up on His Highness so easily, why did you torment me in the first place? Is love just a game to you?”
“…”
Evelyn didn’t respond. Dahlia began listing everything Evelyn had done to her.
“When you tripped me on purpose… when you scratched the jewelry and made me pay for it… I endured it all because I knew how deeply you loved His Highness—”
“Hold on.”
Evelyn interrupted. Dahlia, who had been recalling her past grievances, looked displeased. Evelyn glanced at Dahlia’s red nose and snorted.
“You endured it? Didn’t you go running to His Highness to tattle on me every time?”
With arms crossed, Evelyn pointed out the contradiction in Dahlia’s words.
“…”
Dahlia froze, eyes wide, momentarily forgetting to breathe. The Evelyn of the past would’ve just screamed and yelled—never made sharp observations like that.
Dahlia quickly looked down and muttered,
“…You’re mistaken, my lady.”
“Oh really? So the wrinkled hat was also my imagination?”
“…!”
Dahlia flinched. Evelyn smirked triumphantly. She looked at Dahlia with a pitying expression and gently lifted her chin with a slender finger, speaking in a coaxing tone.
“Come on, it’s just the two of us. How long have we known each other? Why don’t you show me what’s really going on inside?”
Dahlia couldn’t say anything.
She found Evelyn ridiculous—and terrifying. But usually, the ridiculousness outweighed the fear. Right now, though, fear was winning.
Still in a pleasant tone, Evelyn continued, as if enjoying Dahlia’s trembling state.
“Well, sure, I did do most of that. But the hat meant for His Majesty—did I ruin it? No, that hat was perfectly fine.”
“That was just a misunderstanding, and His Highness—!”
“Then why didn’t you correct his misunderstanding?”
At some point, Evelyn’s smile vanished completely.
