CHAPTER 45…………………………….
. It Makes No Sense (2)
“Wait a moment.”
Just as they were about to enter, the duke stopped in his tracks and lifted his hand to Anje’s cheek. The warmth of his touch made her flinch, but only for a second before she spoke.
“Is there something on my face?”
“No, that’s not it.”
The duke leaned close to her ear, a mischievous smile tugging at his lips.
Then—before she could react—the soft brush of his lips landed on her cheek.
Anje nearly jumped out of her skin.
It wasn’t a kiss—it felt more like she’d been slapped. She clutched her cheek, glaring daggers at him, while the duke failed to suppress his laughter. Then, gesturing discreetly toward Hildegard, he murmured,
“Doesn’t she look far too calm over there? I was hoping she’d get at least a little irritated.”
If anyone’s irritated, it’s me, Anje thought sourly. Can I file this as workplace harassment?
Even after some time had passed, her cheek and ear still felt hot.
Half-watching the dancers’ dazzling performance, Anje absently touched the exact spot where his lips had brushed against her skin.
Throughout the entire banquet season, the Duke of Side had been constantly busy. So why, of all nights, was he sitting calmly beside her now?
He had thrown her into confusion, yet sat there as serenely as if nothing had happened—how utterly annoying.
“I said it didn’t mean anything…” he muttered, but Anje was the only one left feeling restless and unsettled.
Still stewing over the unfairness of it all, she turned her gaze and accidentally met the eyes of Countess Franchet.
Realizing belatedly that she was still rubbing her cheek like an unschooled girl, Anje quickly dropped her hand.
But the countess only smiled warmly and gave her a kind nod, unbothered.
Anje offered a polite smile in return and looked back toward the stage—only to lock eyes with Lady Shasha on the opposite side, who was also smiling at her.
Huh? What’s this about?
Now that she noticed, most of the young ladies nearby weren’t even watching the stage—they were staring at her.
Frowning in confusion, Anje barely registered that the dancers’ performance had ended and the First Empress was stepping onto the stage.
“At last, the moment you’ve all been waiting for,” the Empress said brightly, accepting a sheet of paper from the chamberlain. A maid beside her raised a velvet cushion high, revealing a glittering tiara.
Anje inhaled sharply.
If I’d known that was the prize, maybe I would’ve tried harder.
She had done her best—truly, by heart and hand, in both this life and the last—but still, she couldn’t help but feel a pang of regret.
Maybe I should’ve focused on my own prospects instead of giving advice to others.
As she imagined the tiara glittering above Hildegard’s head, Anje exhaled a sigh.
Regret aside, thinking of all the bright-eyed girls who had listened to her counsel made it hard to feel too sorry.
It’s already done. Too late now.
The Empress, drawing out the suspense, unfolded the paper with deliberate slowness. Her eyes widened in surprise, and then a playful smile curved across her graceful face.
“This banquet celebrates the first spring since the end of the war,” she said cheerfully. “While preparing for it, I hoped—especially for the houses that fought bravely for the Empire, like the Duke of Side’s—that they’d have good fortune.”
Then her gaze flicked toward Anje.
“Perhaps my wish came true. This year’s Lady of the Year is from the House of Side.”
Anje’s eyes widened. No way…
“Miss Anje Beaufort. Please come forward.”
For a moment, Anje thought she must have misheard. That couldn’t possibly be right.
“Miss Anje?” the Empress prompted again.
It wasn’t until the duke nudged her shoulder that Anje snapped back to her senses and hurried onto the stage.
“I hear this is your first banquet,” the Empress said with a teasing smile as she placed the tiara on Anje’s head. “To debut and win Lady of the Year all at once—what an extraordinary young lady you are.”
The Empress ignored the emperor’s disapproving glare behind her. She had her own share of grievances against him, after all.
Anje Beaufort…
The Empress tried to recall the name Beaufort, then gave up, adjusting Anje’s hair around the tiara instead.
It didn’t matter who her family was. What mattered was that this girl had just publicly embarrassed the emperor.
With that, the House of Side had reclaimed its standing in Ahendel.
“I do hope you’ll tell me someday,” the Empress whispered lightly, “how you managed to win over not only the young ladies your age but also those sly old dowagers.”
With that feathery whisper, she handed Anje the tiara and plaque, then clapped her hands. The surrounding nobles rose as one, applauding.
“Uh…”
What just happened?
Still dazed, Anje glanced toward the exit—just in time to see Hildegard walking swiftly out of the ballroom.
“This is absurd. My lady, you must lodge a formal complaint!”
Grace, hurrying after Hildegard, sputtered indignantly. Hildegard’s lips twisted slightly.
She talked big, but for all Hildegard knew, Grace might have voted for Anje herself.
If even half of those so-called “friends” who fawned around her had actually supported her, this wouldn’t have happened.
She had even gone so far as to send special gifts to certain ladies of influence, using her father’s connections.
But if she made a fuss and drew attention to all that, she’d only make herself a laughingstock.
“To whom, exactly?” Hildegard asked dryly.
“Pardon?” Grace blinked stupidly.
“Who would I complain to, Grace? To Her Majesty the Empress? Or should I go scolding every noblewoman and debutante who didn’t vote for me? Please. Think before you speak—never mind. It’s not worth the breath.”
Her tone made Grace bite her lip.
If her father, Viscount Flett, weren’t so dependent on the Marquis of Crow, she wouldn’t have to swallow such humiliation.
Grace glared at Hildegard’s back, then sighed.
Still, she couldn’t very well switch sides now—to Lady Mariana Side’s camp of all people.
“You’re really just giving up, then?” she pressed.
“Don’t be tedious. Move.”
Waving Grace away, Hildegard started walking again.
“My lady, you can’t just let this go! That vulgar woman becoming Lady of the Year—it’s unthinkable!”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“How can you say that?”
Hildegard stopped, giving her a look of cold pity.
“Lady of the Year is chosen every year. Next year, and the year after that, and the year after that. It doesn’t even depend on marriage.”
Grace hesitated. “You mean…”
“I’m thinking of holding the wedding around autumn,” Hildegard said smoothly. “By then, His Grace’s little bout of caprice should have cooled off. Men are like that, aren’t they? Childish, impetuous—but that’s part of their charm.”
“I just can’t understand how the Duke of Side could fail to see your beauty and grace,” Grace sniffled, eyes misty.
They had walked a fair distance from the ballroom now. Hildegard paused and glanced back.
The sound of popping champagne and laughter drifted faintly through the night.
“It won’t last long,” she murmured. “So she might as well enjoy it while she can.”
Her tone didn’t invite an answer, and Grace merely watched her nervously.
Then Hildegard’s eyes turned sharp. “How’s Count Martin?”
“Oh! That.” Grace’s face lit up as she stepped closer.
“That Algernon fellow’s been quite the obstacle, but it sounds like Mariana’s almost completely fallen for the count. You know she’s been infatuated with him for ages. The moment he appears, she goes all dreamy-eyed.”
Grace giggled, glancing around conspiratorially.
“I heard they’re taking a trip to the countryside next week. A lovely route lined with cherry blossoms, and then a seaside villa where they’ll stay for a while.”
She fanned her face dramatically.
“It’s apparently too far to return in a single day. And wouldn’t you know—something about the carriage breaking down and only one bedroom being usable because of renovations. Oh my, how romantic.”
Grace fluttered her fan with a giggle, but Hildegard merely nodded, silent.
When Hildegard didn’t respond, the smile slowly faded from Grace’s face.
“Be careful not to make any mistakes,” Hildegard said coolly. “I’d hate to have to keep seeing that stupid face even after the wedding.”
“Don’t worry, my lady,” Grace said brightly. “The plan is perfect.”
