Chapter 18
Seven of a Kind
“……”
Mikhail’s green eyes trembled in shock. He opened his mouth to say something but quickly closed it when he looked at the Grand Duke.
He must have realized that I had deliberately avoided saying the exact location because of the Duke.
I smiled calmly.
“If that truth gets out, someone will be in trouble.”
I didn’t mention a name so the Duke wouldn’t understand, but the person who would “be in trouble” was, of course, Sorel.
If people learned that an unmarried princess had been secretly exchanging letters with the vice-captain of the Knights, a scandal would explode.
And if her partner was a common-born knight, the uproar would be even worse.
“……”
Mikhail’s green eyes flickered with faint anger.
Of course — from his view, I (or rather, Eve) was threatening him by mentioning Sorel’s name. He must have been furious inside but couldn’t show it openly.
Eve, after all, had always bullied Sorel in the original story — she was the “bad sister.”
“Don’t worry,” I said softly. “If you keep the secret, so will I.”
“How can I—”
“How can you trust me? You already know I’ve kept this secret until now, and you still don’t believe me?”
Mikhail started to argue but then fell silent.
His green eyes wavered with confusion.
And honestly, I couldn’t blame him.
If this were the original Eve, she would have shouted the scandal to the whole palace the moment she found out.
Mikhail thought for a moment, then finally nodded.
“I understand. I’ll keep tonight’s events secret. I swear it on my honor.”
“Thank you.”
His eyes shifted uneasily between me and the Duke.
“I’ll escort you back to your chambers, Your Highness.”
“It’s fine. I can go alone.”
Everyone seemed to want to “escort” me — as if the imperial palace were some dangerous back alley.
But really, the princess’s quarters were only a few steps away.
Mikhail hesitated but soon bowed politely.
“Then, please excuse me.”
I watched his back as he walked away, his figure slowly disappearing down the long corridor.
In the original novel, Mikhail had been the illegitimate son of a nobleman — abandoned by his father and raised by his poor mother.
He had worked since childhood to survive, training to become a knight whenever he had free time.
He was described as a sincere, hardworking man who valued honor and loyalty more than life itself.
In other words, a man so upright that it could be frustrating.
“Impressive,” said the Grand Duke behind me. “You hold a secret that could ruin the vice-captain trusted by His Majesty himself.”
…The arrogance in his voice was clear.
I turned and saw the faint glint of amusement in his violet eyes.
For a brief moment, Mikhail’s image overlapped with his — both tall, handsome men, though their auras were completely different.
‘Come to think of it… those two are…’
Then I remembered — their connection in the original story.
They were half-brothers.
That truth wasn’t revealed until much later in the novel: the male lead, Mikhail, and the sub–male lead, Grand Duke Terence, were born of the same father.
The previous Duke — a notorious womanizer — had forced himself on Mikhail’s mother, a maid, and abandoned her.
Since then, the Duke had kept the truth hidden. No one else knew. Not even Mikhail himself.
His mother, cast out while pregnant, never told anyone who the father was.
I quickly said to the Grand Duke,
“Sir Sheldon is a man of honor. You don’t have to worry — he’ll never reveal tonight’s events.”
I was scared the Duke might silence Mikhail permanently.
In the story, Terence had always disliked him.
He couldn’t stand his illegitimate half-brother — understandable, maybe, but still cruel.
‘Mikhail didn’t do anything wrong…’
His only “crime” was being born to the wrong parents.
He was a man who rose to the rank of vice-captain through sheer effort and talent.
If the male lead died here, the whole story would collapse.
As if reading my thoughts, the Grand Duke asked with a faint, cold smile,
“Are you worried I might kill him?”
“Yes. I am.”
Assassination plots were practically a hobby for men like him — or the Emperor.
They schemed constantly against each other in the original story.
‘Now I really understand why the heroine chose Mikhail over this man.’
Compared to this arrogant, manipulative Duke, the honest and steady Mikhail made a much better husband.
Hardworking, sincere, and kind.
The Duke’s strange gaze deepened as he took a step closer.
“So that’s why you stopped me earlier?”
He meant when I had grabbed his wrist in the hallway.
“I had no choice,” I said. “If you’d killed someone in the palace, the fallout would’ve been huge.”
“Who said anything about killing him?” he replied with cold indifference.
“I only planned to make him faint for a while — the dagger was coated with a tranquilizer.”
“That’s basically the same thing!” I shot back.
A tranquilizer dagger? One wrong move and he’d die!
Even if Mikhail survived, there would be an investigation — they’d find out someone attacked the vice-captain in the middle of the night.
The Duke fell silent, simply staring at me.
His violet eyes were expressionless — a hint of irritation flashed and disappeared.
“…I’ll admit your method was more effective,” he finally said.
Well, at least he could admit that.
“I should go,” I said, sighing. “If we stay here any longer, someone else might find us.”
He didn’t argue, just silently followed me through the corridor.
We walked together down the quiet hallway and out into the covered walkway.
Thankfully, we met no one else.
At the garden path leading to the princess’s palace, we stopped.
“I hope we meet again soon,” I said politely.
The Duke didn’t answer. He simply stared at me for a few seconds, then turned and walked away.
I watched his back disappear into the shadows before finally going inside.
‘What a stormy night…’
By the time I reached my room, I was completely exhausted.
I collapsed onto my bed and fell asleep instantly.
The night sky was pitch black, streaked with the faint glow of the Milky Way.
After leaving the palace, Terence returned home in his carriage.
He stepped down and let out a sharp sigh.
“What a waste of time,” he muttered.
His secret meeting with his fiancée had left nothing but annoyance.
As if he would ever play card games at a time like this.
That talk about “prophecy” was ridiculous from the start.
And yet — something about the princess lingered in his mind.
Maybe it was the way she had looked at him in the dark — strangely composed, quietly confident.
“…Still, I should investigate the Emperor’s side,” he murmured.
Terence made up his mind and walked toward his office.
“Your Grace,” said his butler, hurrying beside him. “Colonel Camion has been waiting for several hours.”
“Camion?”
“Yes, he’s in the lounge.”
Camion had long served as Terence’s right-hand man — loyal and competent.
Terence opened the door and stepped inside.
The men inside — two young officers — quickly stood and saluted.
Camion, a tall man with dark brown hair and reddish-black eyes, bowed respectfully.
“Your Grace.”
Terence started to enter, then froze for a second.
On the table in the center of the lounge — scattered across the surface — lay a deck of cards.
For a moment, he just stared at them in silence.
Then, regaining composure, he stepped forward.
“Camion,” he said flatly. “What exactly are you doing in my lounge?”
Camion gave an embarrassed smile.
“I’ve been waiting two hours, Your Grace. It was unbearably boring. We were just chatting and passing the time.”
The other officers bowed deeply and hurried out, leaving the two men alone.
Terence’s eyes dropped again to the table.
Cards.
He’d just told the princess he didn’t play games — that he had no time for such things.
And now, here they were, waiting for him.
‘Coincidence,’ he told himself.
It had to be.
But even with all his logic, a faint unease stirred in his chest.
Somewhere deep down, a small suspicion began to form.
No way… that ridiculous prophecy… could it actually—
