Chapter 42
I didn’t like seeing Giles act as if he were a criminal.
I knew that feeling all too well—the alienation that comes when you realize you’ve only been pretending to belong, while in truth you’re still an outsider.
Giles hesitated for a moment, then nodded.
“…All right. Let’s dance.”
We joined hands and took our place among the other couples. They were dancing a waltz.
The waltz—one of the most popular dances in the world. It was said that there was hardly a country where people didn’t dance it, since all you had to do was follow the simple three-beat rhythm.
I had learned to waltz once, too. It was one of the most basic dances.
I remembered practicing hard under the sharp eyes of my dance instructor.
Giles wrapped his arm around my waist, and we began to move slowly to the rhythm.
He was a good dancer. Beneath that military uniform, he really was every bit the gentleman.
At first, as we stepped between the other couples, he had seemed uncertain—but the moment the waltz began, he couldn’t take his eyes off me.
His dark pupils traced my face as if memorizing every detail.
No one else seemed to exist for him anymore.
It was only then that I realized—this was the first time we had ever stood so close, looking straight into each other’s eyes.
“You dance well.”
“Do you like it?”
“Except for the part where you didn’t ask me first.”
He smiled. But like a picture drawn in sand washed away by the tide, that smile soon faded.
He was caught by me—or was it I who was caught by him? I couldn’t tell.
Giles was staring at me, and I couldn’t look away.
It was as if some invisible force was holding me in place.
“Anna.”
He spoke my name in a lower voice than usual.
In his eyes, I saw an emotion burning so fiercely it made me forget to breathe.
Even the music seemed to stop for a moment.
Then he whispered in my ear—
“I love you, Anna.”
I didn’t answer.
It wasn’t the kind of confession that needed a reply.
A storm of thoughts passed through my head.
Should I refuse him?
Should I put some distance between us?
Could I really trust a man like him?
But before those doubts could take root, they vanished.
“I love you.”
With those words, my mind went blank.
And Giles no longer hesitated—he kissed me.
His lips parted mine, soft and deliberate.
It was like that time we played piano together in a quiet corner of the Solzburg estate.
The same… and yet not the same.
His lips were warm—the first true warmth I had ever felt in my life.
My hesitation melted away, and in the end, I didn’t push him away.
Maybe… just this once, it was all right to let myself have this.
Vincent Monaghan sat among the soldiers, looking bored.
His comrades were laughing like drunkards over stupid jokes—and in truth, they were becoming drunk.
There was plenty of wine, and plenty of time.
He wasn’t one for parties.
He would have rather spent this time interrogating more of those Beldam bastards.
They were his enemies—his lifelong enemies.
Hatred. Hatred.
He had engraved the word in his mind countless times.
It had seeped into every part of his being.
Vincent hated Beldam.
Beldam had twisted him until he became what he was now.
He hated them for that—but thanks to it, he had turned into a monster with a heart of steel, able to return their cruelty tenfold.
When at last he’d had the chance to press a branding iron against a Beldam noble’s skin, how satisfying it had been.
Dragging those fallen nobles from their ivory towers and becoming the instrument of their punishment—that was his work.
He had listened to their screams. He had made them beg.
And it was glorious.
To finally do, in reality, what he had dreamed of for years—
What could be more fulfilling?
He wanted nothing more.
He had achieved what he’d always longed for.
He was a vital part of the revolution, his name secure.
As their screams echoed through the underground halls of headquarters, Vincent would hum a tune to himself.
And often, in those corridors, he would run into a familiar figure.
Giles Hessen.
A man wearing the same uniform as he did, but born to a wealthy Beldam landowning family.
Once a captain in Beldam’s national army.
Giles would give him that inscrutable look from behind those black eyes.
Every time, it made Vincent’s skin crawl.
That man—who should have been rotting in a cell somewhere—was instead standing there in uniform, giving orders, calling his name.
“Hessen.”
That disgusting name.
And now he had the gall to play the hero of the revolution.
Every time Vincent saw that polished, aristocratic face, resentment boiled up inside him.
Sure, Giles had captured and executed many Beldam nobles—but he was still one of them.
Giles didn’t know hate.
You could see it in his face—there wasn’t a trace of it.
Hypocrite.
That’s what Vincent called him in his mind.
Aside from betraying his own kind, what made him any different from the rest of them?
He was the one Beldam man Vincent had never gotten to torture.
In a just world, Giles would be kneeling at Vincent’s feet, begging for mercy.
But reality was the opposite—Vincent was the one taking orders from him.
It made him sick.
Instead of joining in his comrades’ meaningless chatter, Vincent scanned the hall, searching for Giles.
He had to be here somewhere.
Whenever there was a gathering like this, Giles usually hid himself away in some quiet corner.
But surprisingly, this time Vincent found him in the very center of the hall.
Giles was dancing with a woman—or rather, holding her close and barely moving.
Vincent fixed his gaze on them.
She wasn’t some random partner brought for appearances—no, this was different.
Because Giles… looked happy.
The Giles Vincent knew was colorless, emotionless—a man without expression.
But now, he was smiling.
He was whispering something to the blonde woman, his face soft in a way Vincent had never seen.
Giles Hessen was happy.
Because of that woman.
Was he in love?
Vincent couldn’t believe it.
Giles Hessen, in love?
The same man who’d always looked half-dead?
Who was she?
Who could possibly make that cold man’s face glow with warmth?
A twisted smile crept across Vincent’s lips.
There was no way he could just sit there and watch.
He drained his glass and silently moved through the crowd.
He wanted to know who that woman was.
No—more than that, he wanted to take her.
If he could humiliate his superior even slightly by stealing her away, it would be worth it.
Vincent stopped at a spot where Giles could easily see him, and watched.
Giles, lost in the woman, suddenly felt his gaze and turned.
For a moment, his movements froze.
As Giles’s once-happy face turned cold, Vincent smiled—slow and cunning.
I saw Giles’s expression turn icy.
His eyes had fixed on something—or rather, someone.
I turned to look where he was staring.
A tall soldier with dull blond hair was watching us.
He was so tall it was easy to spot him even among the crowd.
I leaned close to Giles and whispered,
“Who’s that?”
“Vincent Monaghan. My subordinate. Not someone worth meeting.
If you can, don’t make eye contact and just pretend you didn’t see him.”
I wanted to glance back again, but I obeyed him.
Even that brief moment had been enough—the man’s presence was unforgettable.
He was staring at us with such intensity it made my heart drop.
Giles kept his guard up, and from the looks of it, Vincent wasn’t leaving either.
“You said he’s your subordinate. Why’s he acting like that? You two don’t get along?”
“He’s dangerous by nature—and he doesn’t like me. Looks like he’s trying to start something. We should leave, Anna.”
He took my hand and led me away from the crowd.
But Vincent wasn’t planning to let us go.
A deep voice stopped Giles in his tracks.
“Captain Hessen.”
There was no avoiding it now.
Giles had to face him.
I gripped his hand tighter and turned with him to face Vincent Monaghan.
