Chapter 9: If You Wish, I Could Fill You With My Thoughts
The banquet was now in full swing, but the hall buzzed with more gossip than ever. All eyes were still on the unexpected new competitor — Kiara.
“Why brag about once being sick? If she couldn’t attend before, that’s the end of it!”
“Oh, my poor daughter… to think she must compete against a woman like that!”
It wasn’t only the mothers who were bitter. The young ladies themselves — the official participants — were sharp with hostility.
The Rose Contest was no trivial game. Each debutante had prepared for years, some even for a lifetime, to showcase their talent on this stage. For those from lesser families, this was the one chance to change their fate.
And the Emperor himself presided over it.
So Kiara, suddenly entering as a new rival, was like a thorn driven deep into their side.
She was beautiful, mysterious, and already the center of attention — which made her even more hated.
The contest was supposed to be fair: all the girls went through months of tough preliminaries. Yet here she was, allowed in without any of that.
“Ha! Doesn’t she know the judges’ scores include our votes too?”
“Yes, her arrogance will cost her.”
The participants’ resentment spread like a dark cloud. Their opinions carried weight in the scoring — so surely this would hurt her chances.
But through all the whispers, Kiara remained calm. She looked untouched by the noise, as if it had nothing to do with her.
“Are you nervous?”
The question came from the only person at her side — Duke Eugene Russell. Everyone else had avoided her after she confronted the Emperor, but Eugene remained close.
Kiara only smiled. Nervous? After all her years waiting for this moment? No, perhaps only a faint thrill.
“And if I were nervous… how would you help me relax?”
“Hmm…” Eugene tilted his head thoughtfully. Then he slowly took her wrist in his large, calloused hand, the hand of a man used to a sword. His thumb brushed her skin.
He leaned close, his deep voice a whisper at her ear:
“I know many ways to ease tension. Shall we step away for a while?”
His hand slid lazily along her waistline, hidden from others’ eyes. He remembered well how her body curved, how her pale skin flushed beneath his touch.
Kiara’s lips curved faintly.
“…So instead of easing tension, you plan to create more?”
“If you wish.” His smile was sharp and cold.
“I could fill you entirely… with thoughts of me.”
Kiara glanced at him sideways with feigned annoyance, then turned her head away.
From across the hall, Huerion stared at them, eyes fixed, unblinking.
Kiara felt his gaze but pretended not to notice, focusing elsewhere. She knew full well — ignoring him would only drive him mad with frustration.
“The next, the third participant — Lady Marie de Pourbong, performing The May Waltz by House Arbon.”
Seven contestants had been chosen through the preliminaries. Each one was outstanding in some art — usually dance or song, the most dazzling talents.
Marie spun across the hall, her red dress blooming like a flower.
“How stunning, even more than in the preliminaries!”
“Yes, she’s radiant.”
The judges, noble ladies of high standing, nodded in approval.
One by one, the other contestants displayed their skills — mostly dances and songs. One girl even embroidered roses across a vast five-meter cloth, but most chose music.
Still, repetition dulled the crowd’s excitement. Too many similar acts made the judges weary.
The next girl would need extraordinary talent to capture attention now.
“The sixth contestant, Lady Marlene Savoia Clotilde of House Clotilde. Her performance: singing A Last Farewell to Love.”
At that name — Clotilde — Kiara’s eyes flickered. Not at the girl’s face, but at the family name.
The contestant stepped forward gracefully, her hair a deep blue that shimmered like a lake in sunlight.
It reminded Kiara of a past she had once cherished.
Elise… what do I do? Father says he’ll acknowledge the courtesan’s child as his daughter. What should I do? If he casts me aside…
The young lady began to sing. Her voice was pure, clear, like church bells at dawn. The audience fell into awe.
Her name is Marlene. That’s the name Father always promised he’d give to his daughter…
The hall filled with her song, so beautiful some said it was as if a goddess had descended.
But Kiara only heard weeping — the voice of her former friend who had once betrayed her in desperation.
Elise… forgive me. I just wanted to live, even if it meant abandoning you…
Kiara closed her eyes briefly, haunted by the memory. But when she opened them, there was no knife in her thigh, no tears on her cheeks — only herself, reborn as Kiara, clad in black hair and a dress that suited her new self.
She fixed her gaze on the singing girl.
So, you must be her younger sister… the courtesan’s child. The one the Count acknowledged.
For a moment, their eyes met. Marlene quickly turned forward again, but Kiara caught it — the brief falter in her gaze.
Did she recognize me?
As Elise? Or as Kiara?
But the song soared on, unshaken. It filled the hall like snowfall over a quiet winter landscape.
When it ended, the applause was thunderous.
“Incredible!”
“I never thought I’d witness such a performance outside the opera house. Truly the pride of her family.”
Lady Marlene bowed gracefully, her name now on everyone’s lips.
The seventh contestant who followed, shaken by pressure, stumbled repeatedly. Her mistakes only made Marlene’s brilliance shine brighter.
“Surely the crown will go to Lady Clotilde this year.”
