chapter 53
“Lady Clotilde, I don’t want to ruin the mood in a place like this, but…
Will you allow me the right to stand by your side?”
Damian Belderte.
His lifelong nemesis—since the day he was born—was standing under the chandelier, shining brilliantly.
This can’t be real.
Here? Now? Damian appears here?
Wearing the most immaculate uniform he had ever seen on him.
Looking like a noble who belonged more perfectly than anyone else in this grand, glamorous ballroom.
He walked—no, glided—through the pack of nobles blocking the way, straight-backed and elegant.
He even passed Polyus without a single difficulty and approached Melanie.
Melanie’s eyes widened, almost sparkling, as Damian appeared before her—like she had just been rescued. Her cheeks flushed.
“Tower Master?”
“Even if there were rumors about a marriage arrangement, I know it could feel like a burden.
So I am saying this now—here, formally. Give me the right to be your fiancé.”
It was like a scene from a fairy tale.
People nearby breathed out small gasps of admiration.
But Polyus didn’t feel admiration—not even close. His mouth hung open, breath shaking.
“H-Hukh…”
His mind felt like it was drifting away.
It was as if a beast had walked into the shelter he considered safest.
No escape.
No power.
Just deep, suffocating helplessness.
And in this moment, Damian shone at Melanie’s side like the hero of the story.
Without question, it was the most horrifying moment of his life.
* * *
Damian stared straight at Josephine as he spoke.
“Lady Clotilde has never been lonely. Because I have always been beside her.”
“M-Master of the Tower? Why are you—here…?”
“I said it before—only mistresses are foolish enough to blame others. I heard you once threw yourself at Polyus while he was still engaged. Seems you two are cut from the same cloth.”
Josephine staggered back.
But Damian did not stop. His words were sharp as blades.
“Did you leave your brain somewhere? Then again, picking up trash someone else already threw out… suits you, I suppose. Even escaping that man seems to be in order of intelligence.”
Polyus exploded.
“Damian! What the hell do you think you’re doing?! Calling my mother—and Josephine—”
“You shut up. You’re a dumped man. Don’t act even more pathetic than you already do.”
Damian, unlike the brutality in his words, approached Melanie with surprising care.
Everyone present could see it clearly:
Damian was treating her with respect—deep, obvious importance.
“I prepared a ring. But in a situation like this, all I can ask is for you to stand beside me. I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine. As long as you’re here… I’m fine.”
Melanie smiled softly at him. Then she looked at the nobles.
“You heard him, didn’t you? My fiancé seems… displeased.”
“Ahem…”
The young nobles quickly backed away from Melanie.
Polyus panicked.
W-wait—then what am I supposed to be?
He stuttered, scrambling to save the situation.
“R-Right! As Damian’s brother, I was only trying to… manage the situation. I—I just want Melanie to be happy. Yes. Haha…”
Didn’t Melanie still like him?
Why was she only looking at Damian?
Why wasn’t she looking at him?
Why was she leaving him?
Polyus felt like his mind was unraveling.
He wished it was a dream.
But reality was cold—and no matter how many times he blinked, it didn’t go away.
He forced a smile, pretending to be a decent person.
Inside, he was rotting.
And the crowd—far from helping—was delighted by the drama.
“Young Lord Polyus Belderte, is it true you wish Lady Clotilde happiness?”
“Didn’t you get furious last time, when she was seen with the Tower Master?”
Melanie simply watched him—expression unreadable.
The Melanie from before—the girl who used to adore him, whose eyes told him everything she felt—that Melanie wasn’t here anymore.
Damn it. If only Damian wasn’t here, Melanie would be at my side!
Grinding his teeth, Polyus tried again to wrap things up.
“…My blessings are sincere. Besides, I—I also have someone I love. Josephine! Yes! Hahaha!”
Of course no one believed him.
Even Polyus didn’t believe himself.
But dignity was all he had left, and it was crumbling fast.
“O-oh…”
And now everyone turned to look at Josephine.
She was still a marquis’ daughter, once the darling of society.
But right now?
She was Melanie Clotilde’s replacement.
And he—he—was the one saying it.
Why is she marrying him just to be treated like that? She’s still technically of lower status since she’s illegitimate…
She hated Lady Clotilde so much—was she really that desperate to beat her?
Josephine didn’t need them to say it aloud.
She could feel it.
Polyus had just declared his love for her in public…
and it only filled her with humiliation.
“G-goodness…”
“So the Lady of Ingda is going to marry Young Lord Polyus?”
Polyus quickly jumped in.
“Yes! We’ll be engaged! Right, Josephine?”
“……”
Nobody gasped in admiration this time.
Nobody called it romantic.
Josephine’s face flushed red—not with joy, but rage and shame.
I was supposed to receive his proposal while everyone envied me—
Especially that wretched Clotilde!
All the fantasies she had, all the imagined triumph—gone.
How did I become the one who picks up what she threw away?!
I was supposed to steal—not scavenge!
She had planned to push Melanie emotionally, make her choose a fiancé quickly.
Clara Martis said nonsense beside her, but one thing was clear—Melanie had moved on from Polyus.
But she didn’t expect this—for Melanie to throw Polyus away, and for Josephine to look like she picked up the leftovers.
“Two engagements, in the same night…”
“But…”
They didn’t finish the sentence, because everyone already understood.
Josephine wanted to refuse.
But it was too late.
Too much had been done, too many eyes were watching.
She clenched her teeth hard, then shut her eyes and nodded.
“Yes. I… will marry Polyus.”
There was no going back.
Their business ventures were already tied together.
Josephine tried to keep a proud expression.
At least Clara Martis must be sick with jealousy.
Whenever Josephine tried to be alone with Polyus, Clara always barged in like a dog chasing scraps.
Now, Clara would have to watch her marry him.
Wow, the Tower Master is serious? Does he actually like Lady Clotilde?
Lady Clotilde sounded like she agreed calmly, but maybe it wasn’t just an agreement?
But Clara—while staring at Melanie and Damian—thought instead:
Ah, so Lady Ingda and Polyus are only NOW engaged?
Wow, what a pathetic comparison!
She barely stopped herself from snickering at Josephine.
In any case…
“Haha! We have all found love—please congratulate us!”
Polyus desperately raised his voice, trying to control the atmosphere, trying to salvage his dignity.
Even though there was no love left between him and Josephine.
“Congratulations on the engagement!”
“Be happy!”
No one meant it.
* * *
When the crowd finally dispersed, the two who had seemed “loving” only moments ago completely snapped.
“Josephine, why did you make those young nobles gather around Melanie?
And meeting with my mother—what was that?!”
“You make it sound like I bullied innocent Lady Clotilde and you’re scolding me for it.”
Josephine scoffed.
“In the past, you always clung to me, saying I was the only one on your side, complaining about everything Lady Clotilde did.”
‘Josephine… you’re all I have left.
If even you abandon me… I might die…’
Polyus’s face hardened as the memory returned.
Josephine smirked.
“Feels different, doesn’t it? Seeing Lady Clotilde doing just fine—even without you.”
