CHAPTER 45……
‘This is the first time I’ve ever seen such a dazzling place.’
Wearing a neat black dress, the woman seated at the chair swallowed nervously, her throat bobbing slightly.
Unlike her calloused hands, her face was rather delicate. Even now, she couldn’t quite believe how she had ended up in a place like this.
The offer she had received was so good that at first she suspected it might be a scam. But after checking the guarantee of identity, that didn’t seem to be the case either.
The requirement was nothing special. All that was needed was a pair of blue eyes. Could anything really be this simple?
Her gaze swept across the lavishly decorated room. She had heard that places like this existed, but seeing one for herself made her heart race wildly.
Perhaps, for the first time in a long while, she might get to enjoy a proper meal. Her blue eyes sparkled with anticipation.
The door opened, and women who seemed to be maids entered. She clenched her fingers tightly in nervousness, but one of the maids offered her a kind smile.
“Please put on this mask.”
She accepted the white mask that was handed to her. It was large enough to cover her whole face except for her mouth, with only two holes for vision.
A strange chill ran through her, but she obediently put it on. Following the maids, she took careful, tense steps.
“This is the room.”
The maid leading them spoke gently as they arrived before a large double door. The instant it opened, the sight before her made her gasp.
Meanwhile, like poison seeping into a stream, a secret rumor was spreading quietly throughout the capital’s high society.
It was said that Cordelia Vichen, who had gone missing after the Vichen ducal family announced she would publicly accept marriage proposals, had reappeared in the Aischfein territory.
That alone was not particularly shocking, since that land was governed by none other than the late Duke Vichen, Isaac Vichen.
But a few days after the news spread, someone claiming to be Cordelia’s envoy appeared at the duke’s manor where her suitors were gathered. The letter he carried contained only a few short lines:
“If there are any who truly wish to propose to me, come to Reuchel Castle in the Aischfein territory. I will be waiting.
– Cordelia Vichen”
Though embarrassingly short and utterly lacking in flourishes, the response was explosive.
Not only the suitors who had already gathered but also many other men rushed into carriages and urged their drivers onward toward Reuchel Castle. It took less than a week for them to arrive.
In the grand annex hall beside the castle, the men assembled. They ranged from boys of about sixteen to men past forty, diverse in both age and attire.
“So, the young lady has finally decided to marry.”
“She did put it off long enough. Isn’t she of quite an age now?”
“Seems even that proud young lady couldn’t ignore the passage of time.”
Though their numbers weren’t yet great, the crowd was growing by the hour. After all, the prize at stake was immense.
A marquisate, and a beautiful noblewoman on top of that—whoever was chosen would gain it all. Outwardly the mood seemed genial, but underneath, the competition among the men crackled like sparks.
“Still, is the lady not going to show her face even once? What a poor way to treat her guests.”
Many murmured in agreement.
“Just seeing her face would give us strength. A pity.”
“I heard Lady Kallia is here too, yet she hasn’t appeared. Strange.”
“Are you perhaps aiming for the countess instead? Hard to believe her beauty hasn’t faded even past thirty.”
“What does that matter when a whole territory is at stake? Besides, she’s a proper, virtuous lady.”
Though unsaid, most suspected the remark was a jab at Cordelia’s rumored affairs.
“Didn’t she go through so many lovers already?”
“They say she’s overly fond of faces. Though with that beauty, it’s not hard to understand—but still, it’s unseemly.”
“What of it? Once married, she’ll have to change. A wife grows obedient enough after the vows are made.”
“Indeed. Isn’t a woman at her most beautiful in the bedroom?”
While others exchanged crude remarks, one man who had remained silent finally asked with a frown:
“Is her beauty truly so dazzling as to warrant all this fuss?”
For a moment, silence fell—then the group erupted in laughter. Someone patted his shoulder.
“So you’ve never seen the lady in person?”
“Seems not.”
Rather than explain that he had lived reclusively in his baron brother’s estate and been dragged here against his will, he brushed it off lightly. The men nodded knowingly.
“No wonder. Men in society fight tooth and nail just for a glance from her.”
“She’s dazzling enough to blind you.”
“And don’t forget, she comes with a title. For those of us without inheritance rights, this is the chance of a lifetime.”
“Vichen truly is something. Even after granting such lands to his daughters, his family remains so powerful.”
“Most of the southern kingdom belongs to the Vichen family, does it not?”
“And they say the duke dotes on his younger sister—seems that’s true.”
Some sighed regretfully.
“Lady Kallia is wasted, though. Her age may count against her, but even now, many ardent suitors pursue her.”
“She says she has no desire to marry, alas… For a woman of such beauty to remain single is a shame.”
“Who knows, she might have a lover in secret.”
“If so, rumors would have spread long ago.”
Their talk was at its peak when suddenly the hall doors opened. Around twenty pairs of eyes turned to see a group of maids enter.
“Are all those who arrived today present here?”
The leading maid asked in a calm voice. Bewildered, they nodded. “All of us?” one man asked.
“Yes. All of you.”
Typically, in such proceedings, a suitor would meet the lady alone. To summon them all together was unusual, but curiosity and formality compelled them to follow.
Perhaps it was the maids’ strict, flawless composure that spread tension through the group as they walked.
They passed through the main castle and stopped before a set of massive closed doors. Standing there was a woman with braided crimson hair.
Her curls glimmered like fire, her skin was flawless white, her nose straight, and her lips as red as her hair. With her sharp features and soft pink eyes, she shone with a grace that could ensnare anyone.
Whispers rippled among the men—it was none other than Kallia Vichen. No one could tear their gaze from her, not even the man who had questioned Cordelia’s beauty.
“I see a few familiar faces,” she began coolly, folding her arms.
“I commend you for arriving so promptly.”
Rather than tell them their efforts were futile, she smiled serenely. For a moment, it was as though flowers bloomed around her.
“Where is Lady Cordelia?” someone finally asked.
“She is right inside,” came Kallia’s simple reply.
At her signal, the maids pushed open the heavy doors. The men at the front stepped forward cautiously—then froze.
Inside stood dozens of masked women in splendid dresses, all turning to face them at once.
“What in the world…?” one man muttered in shock.
The women were of similar height and build. Their outfits varied, but each wore the same mask covering their faces except the mouth, and white gloves. Some held fans or other props.
Along the walls, spaced evenly apart, stood servants in uniforms, brown-haired youths wearing identical masks and black gloves. Their hands folded behind their backs, their heads bowed.
“You seem quite surprised,” Kallia said as she entered behind them. Her words stilled the hall in an instant.
Only then did they realize—the women neither spoke nor moved. The servants too remained silent and motionless.
“As you must know, my younger sister dreams of a romantic love,” Kallia’s clear voice rang out.
“She wishes to find a partner truly suited to her, regardless of status or wealth.”
Cordelia’s scheme, when laid out, was disarmingly simple.
“The condition is this: within the allotted time, choose the one you believe to be Cordelia and bring her forth. You have only one chance.”
The men’s expressions hardened, but Kallia explained with serene composure.
“You may not remove their masks or force them to speak. That would be a violation. You may approach and observe their reactions, nothing more. The hall is under strict surveillance, so I advise against mischief.”
As her words ended, the masked servants along the walls all raised their heads at once, their puppet-like movements sending a chill through the room.
“Only the one who finds the true Cordelia earns the right to propose.”
“Lady Kallia,” one man protested.
“Address me properly. Countess Vichen, if you please. Does your house teach no courtesy?”
“…Countess Vichen. Do you truly believe this makes sense? Without face or voice, how are we supposed to distinguish her?!”
Others grumbled in agreement. Kallia only waited for them to quiet before answering.
“I told you already—she dreams of romance.”
It was they who sought her hand. Why did they act as though owed an easy path?
“She asks for nothing but sincerity, without regard for conditions. Why call that unfair? At the very least, each of you has an equal chance.”
Tilting her head lightly, she spoke with such grace and certainty that none could find a rebuttal.
Then, as musicians in the corner began to play, Kallia opened her fan and stirred the air teasingly, her lips curving into a smile half-hidden.
“Well then, I wish you the best of luck.”
