Chapter 79
Once the endlessly chatty Luisa got off, the carriage fell quiet. For some reason, it felt unusually slow today, as if time itself was dragging.
A fight, she had said. Even if he claimed to be unharmed, I couldn’t help but worry. I wouldn’t be able to calm down until I saw him with my own eyes.
As soon as I stepped down from the carriage and entered the palace, the first person to greet me was the butler, Murray.
“Hello, Mr. Murray.”
“Greetings, my lady.”
“Is His Highness in his office?”
At my urgent question, Murray made a slightly troubled face.
“Well… His Highness will be staying at the hotel for a while due to work.”
“Oh. I see.”
My voice slumped with disappointment after having been so hopeful.
“Did you have something to say to him…?”
“No, no.”
Eyla quickly waved both hands to say it was nothing. It wasn’t like she had anything specific to say. She just wanted to see him.
“But the atmosphere in the palace feels different.”
The once quiet and solemn palace now had a lively air to it.
“Preparations for His Highness’s birthday masquerade ball this weekend are in full swing.”
“Ah, that makes sense.”
“It must feel a bit chaotic, no?”
“No. I like it—it’s nice to see the palace full of life for once. You must be busy, so go ahead with your duties. I’ll be in the art room painting for a while before I head back.”
“If you need anything, call for me.”
“Oh—by the way, I finished the oil painting for the portrait, but it’ll take a long time for the paint to fully dry. It needs to be kept in the shade for quite a while, so please make sure no dust touches that area when cleaning the studio.”
“Of course, my lady.”
Murray answered calmly to reassure her.
For the next few days, she went back and forth between the academy and Grenville Palace, half-hoping she would bump into Franz by chance.
She painted the Grenville gardens and forests, and on some days she found herself wandering aimlessly in front of the chain hotel Franz owned in the city center.
But despite her expectations, not once did she run into him. It was absurd, considering how frequently they had encountered each other before.
That’s when Eyla realized—it would never happen unless Franz deliberately came to find her. Somehow, that realization stung.
As her longing piled up, the masquerade drew ever closer.
* * *
On the day of the masquerade, Betty was busy from dawn. Normally, Eyla would have complained endlessly, but today she raised no objections, allowing Betty to unleash her long-suppressed talents without restraint.
After soaking in a rose petal bath and receiving a full-body massage with luxurious oils, it was already afternoon. The grooming process, which felt endless, was finally coming to an end.
“I feel tired before I’ve even gone to the ball,” Eyla murmured, sitting dreamily in her dress while Betty styled her hair.
“This year’s birthday banquet is meaningful to you as well, my lady. I want you to look your absolute best.”
Eyla flushed as if Betty had read her heart.
“Thanks to you, I’ll shine the brightest tonight. I really love it.”
She laughed shyly after saying it, embarrassed by her own words.
“It’s surprisingly embarrassing to say things like that. How do other ladies say it so easily?”
“You should have more confidence. Honestly, are you lacking in beauty? In wealth? In ability? You’re the number one bride candidate. There’s a reason His Highness likes you.”
“His Highness likes me? Why do you think that?”
Betty didn’t hesitate even for a second.
“It’s not what I think—it’s how it looks.”
“What do you mean?”
“Exactly what I said. From what I see, His Highness likes you. It’s in his eyes. Eyes don’t lie.”
“No way. You must be seeing it wrong, Betty.”
“I’m not. If you don’t believe me, compare the way he looks at you with how he looks at others. Also, when you painted his portrait—you captured his eyes exactly as you saw them, right? Warm, soft… gentle. That’s not the gaze of someone without feelings. The moment I saw it, I thought—‘Ah, that’s it!’”
Suddenly, Eyla’s heart wavered. Come to think of it, it wasn’t entirely baseless.
His Highness was generally kind to everyone. His voice was gentle, his lips always curved gracefully—but his eyes remained cold and indifferent. At the beginning, he had looked at her no differently.
She didn’t know exactly when that cold gaze started to warm. She remembered how he saw through her feigned illness the day after the Rose Festival and how hurt she’d felt by the frost in his eyes then—so perhaps the change had begun before that.
But that vague hope was still hard to trust.
“He’s just being kind because our relationship has gotten better. That’s all.”
She wanted to cut off even the faintest expectation. If not, her heart—which was already pounding—might burst.
“Come on. Do you think His Highness is the type to act that way just because he’s grown friendly? Would he look at his male friends that way? That would be weird…”
“But His Highness doesn’t like me. He said so.”
The biggest reason she kept hesitating was the memory of that day in the plaza.
“Then he simply doesn’t realize his own feelings.”
“…”
“My lady, I’m not forcing this. If you still don’t believe me, just watch carefully tonight. If he can’t take his eyes off you, or if he gets jealous of other men—then there’s no doubt!”
“As if.”
“I’m telling you, trust me. I may have no experience, but my theory is flawless. No man gets jealous over someone he doesn’t like. Jealousy is the truest human emotion. And if someone like His Highness loses himself to jealousy—that’s the end of the story! Right?”
The more she listened, the more Eyla found herself hoping. She tried to suppress the fluttering feeling, but it refused to be tamed.
She had hesitated for so long, but today—she wanted to be brave. If their feelings were truly mutual, then tonight—she would confess. That she liked him.
Confidence welled up inside her. She hadn’t even confessed yet, but it already felt as if she had gained the whole world.
* * *
The grand hall of Grenville Palace was overflowing with guests attending the prince’s birthday celebration. Amidst the dazzling dresses and elaborate masks, all eyes were fixed on the star of the evening—Franz.
Gold embroidery adorned the sleeves and collar of his deep blue uniform, and the gold epaulettes on his shoulders glittered so brightly they could blind. The perfectly fitted ceremonial attire embraced his frame without a single crease.
Even a mask couldn’t conceal his commanding presence; people openly stole glances at him. Some whispered that even in rags, his presence alone would outshine all others.
Franz responded politely to each guest who approached to congratulate him, but all the while his gaze roamed the hall. Among the familiar masks, the face he sought had yet to appear. Without realizing, he glanced toward the entrance again.
“Expecting someone?”
Frederick asked with a smirk—more like stating a fact than a question.
Franz gave a small, dismissive laugh as if telling him not to tease.
Just then, a stir spread from the entrance. Curious, people craned their necks to see.
The refined nobles frowned at the sudden commotion, but the buzz didn’t settle. Instead, people began to part way, and silence fell over the hall.
All eyes fixed on a woman emerging from the crowd. She wore a gown so white it dazzled the eyes.
The bodice was adorned with crystal beads and pearls that shimmered under the lights. The layered tulle skirt billowed gracefully. It was a dress both pure and enchanting. Her mask and fan were also white, matching perfectly.
She stepped lightly toward the center of the hall. Her skin was pale as if made of light, her waist so slender one could span it with two hands, and her neckline curved elegantly—enough to make the onlookers gasp.
When she lowered the fan covering her lips, a shy smile bloomed like a flower. That single expression sent shockwaves through the hall.
Her innocent, noble beauty stirred the desires and nerves of every man present. The brighter she shone, the more the men’s throats tightened, their curiosity turning into thirst.
She was clearly someone no one recognized, which only fueled the speculation. Whose daughter was she? Which family did she belong to?
Masquerades technically forbade revealing names or rank, but everyone in noble society usually knew who was who anyway—which was why most wore similar masks.
Without realizing, those surrounding Franz stepped aside. The woman stopped before him.
“Happy birthday, Your Highness.”
The faint scent of fresh flowers and the voice that spoke those words made Franz’s eyes widen in shock.
“….”
Good heavens. Eyla?
The woman watched his blue eyes widen and smiled gracefully before lowering into a deep curtsy and rising again. Her posture—perfect, unwavering—stole his breath.
Her beauty—both familiar and strangely foreign—was enough to dazzle him. It had been a long time since he’d felt such excitement.
“Thank you. But calling me ‘Your Highness’ at a masquerade—makes the mask rather pointless, doesn’t it?”
“Ah…”
Behind the mask, Eyla’s eyes widened in embarrassment. It had slipped out naturally because he was unmistakably Franz—but she wondered if she had just breached etiquette in front of everyone.
“Anyone could recognize His Highness.”
“You can’t hide your presence with just a mask.”
People chimed in warmly, defending her, and Eyla let out a quiet sigh of relief.
“May I ask the lovely lady’s name?”
No one used their real name at a masquerade. He knew that—and yet he asked.
After a brief pause, Eyla answered,
“Please call me Juliet.”
Juliet. He rolled the name on his tongue, savoring it. It reminded him of a peaceful day long ago.
