chapter 10
“It’s the lady’s first official appearance in society!”
From the moment Eatrice announced she would attend the Empress’s birthday celebration, Cassie had been in a flurry. After learning that Eatrice had previously skipped her debutante ball, Cassie had begun preparing even more fervently, gritting her teeth in determination.
“At tonight’s birthday banquet, the most dazzling presence will be none other than Lady Eatrice!”
“The star of tonight’s banquet is Her Majesty the Empress,”
Eatrice corrected firmly, but Cassie Goldriver was far beyond hearing reason.
“Just wait! I’ll make sure you shine more beautifully than anyone!”
Eatrice could only sit there awkwardly, watching the fire in Cassie’s eyes. In truth, Eatrice had a different goal.
‘Since it’s the Empress’s birthday celebration, His Highness will definitely be there.’
Ever since dreaming of his death again, her heart hadn’t been at ease.
‘Rationally, I know he’s still safe in the Imperial Palace.’
The rebellion hadn’t started yet. It was still fifteen years before Headon would incite Second Prince Vincent to stage a coup.
“By the way, crimson suits you so well. The Duke certainly has an eye for beauty.”
Cassie beamed as she held up the dress Eatrice would wear.
On the morning of the birthday banquet, a large purple box—one Eatrice had never seen before—was placed before her.
“It’s from Duke Kaidel.”
Mel, the butler, had personally carried it in. A thick silver ribbon wrapped the box, embroidered with the name of a renowned designer—one so exclusive that even Eatrice, who didn’t know much about fashion, had heard the name.
“It’s an apology for last time, and a congratulatory gift for being invited to the Empress’s birthday banquet. Please accept it, my lady.”
“Did the Duke say that himself?”
Sitting at her vanity, Eatrice asked while peering down at the box. Mel only smiled kindly, giving no clear answer.
“Of course not. That was just something you said to be considerate, right?”
“But my lady, even if he didn’t say it outright, I’m sure the Duke feels the same. He personally commissioned the dress.”
Mel hastily explained, but it made little difference. Eatrice slowly untied the ribbon and lifted the lid.
As she opened the box, a deep floral scent wafted out. It was one of the designer’s signature touches.
The box had been lightly perfumed so that upon opening, the wearer would associate the dress with a pleasant impression.
“Just tell the Duke… thank you.”
Eatrice said flatly. As soon as Mel left the room, Cassie pounced like she’d been waiting all day, ready to dress Eatrice.
The results were exactly what Cassie had dreamed of.
“You look just like a snow rabbit!”
Cassie clasped her hands to her chest, overwhelmed with emotion at her handiwork.
“I’ve never heard that before.”
Eatrice gave a faint, awkward smile. In her previous life, people had called her “the cursed white snake with red eyes.” But she didn’t want to disturb Cassie with such unpleasant memories.
“Everyone must be blind. White hair and pomegranate-colored eyes—perfection! I know it’s my work, but this is a masterpiece!”
Eatrice gently touched the crimson accessory pinned to the back of her hair. Despite being a finely-crafted jeweled flower, it wasn’t heavy.
“How are the shoes? Comfortable?”
“Yeah.”
She lifted the hem of her matching crimson dress slightly to check her shoes. They had higher heels than usual but fit perfectly.
Cassie continued fussing over her hair until just before Eatrice boarded the carriage. In the end, she loosely tied her hair at the back, securing it with the floral accessory, and let the rest cascade down.
The deep red dress made her silver hair stand out like snow on velvet.
“You look good.”
A deep, low voice sounded above her head.
It was Duke Kaidel.
It had been such a brief moment that Eatrice wasn’t sure if he’d actually looked at her or just said it in passing. Either way, it didn’t matter to her.
“You heard that, right? Just like the Duke said—my lady looks like an angel!”
Cassie was near fainting from joy after hearing his compliment as he climbed into the carriage.
Behind Cassie, flushed with pride, Headon appeared. His younger sister Muriel must still be away in the countryside, as he was alone.
When his eyes met Eatrice’s, he quickly looked away, seemingly embarrassed by a past memory, and hurried into the carriage.
Eatrice chuckled softly at his timid behavior before climbing in herself.
“The House of Bellanel has arrived!”
As the loud voice of the herald echoed through the banquet hall, flower petals rained down around them.
From the second floor of the multi-tiered hall, luxurious petals fluttered like snow, obscuring vision.
Tall crystal chandeliers on every pillar reflected light, making the hall glow as if under the sun despite being indoors.
‘The Emperor must really adore the Empress to celebrate this extravagantly.’
The Emperor wouldn’t be attending due to illness.
Perhaps to prevent negative gossip among the nobles, the palace had spared no expense in the celebration.
‘He never held such a lavish birthday party for His Highness Adrian.’
Eatrice’s stomach twisted bitterly.
It was true. The Emperor had always favored the Empress and the Second Prince over Adrian.
That bias had stemmed from ugly rumors that circulated before the Empress’s death. The Emperor’s obvious favoritism was one reason the Imperialist faction, once loyal to the former Empress, hesitated to fully support Adrian.
‘That’s why birthdays like this were never held for His Highness.’
In fact, the Emperor treated Adrian’s birthdays like a nuisance—issuing a short statement, then ignoring it altogether.
Likewise, Adrian rarely appeared at official events.
‘But he’ll attend today. It’s the Empress’s birthday.’
Empress Nersia had always tried to keep the peace between the noble and imperial factions.
Not wanting her son Vincent to be at odds with Adrian, she had personally written the invitation to him.
Eatrice moved through the crowd, standing just beside the red carpet, waiting for him to appear.
“His Highness Prince Adrian Blaine Roanest enters!”
But…
Even as the herald cried out again and again, Adrian did not appear.
The herald’s increasingly awkward announcements were followed by heavy silence. In the end, they moved on, and the Empress entered first.
Her face betrayed visible shock and disappointment upon seeing the empty seat meant for Adrian. But she quickly concealed her feelings with graceful composure.
Still, the noble ladies had already begun whispering.
“Tsk tsk. I expected this. Her Majesty must be so heartbroken. To keep the birthday celebrant waiting, and then not even show up!”
With rumors spreading that she’d personally written him an invitation, Adrian’s absence looked like a direct snub.
“He’s known for never appearing at official events, but to not even show his face…”
The noblewomen buzzed. Eatrice listened closely.
“It’s disgraceful! The First Prince is even less visible than the ailing Emperor. Even if he disliked the Empress, this is too much.”
“Maybe he’s actually sick!”
“Which means… those rumors might be true? About the madness?”
Madness!
Eatrice flinched at the word.
Others gasped as well, quickly covering their mouths with fans.
“They say it’s gotten so bad he roams the royal forest at night.”
“The Empress tried to suppress the rumors, but how long can they hide a mad prince?”
“That means the next Emperor will surely be Prince Vincent.”
Eatrice bit her lip, refusing to believe the rumor.
‘That’s absurd!’
He couldn’t possibly be insane. He never had been.
‘Before the regression, he was perfectly sound in body and mind.’
There was no madness lurking behind his kind purple eyes. The idea was unthinkable.
‘It’s just a filthy lie. That rumor about him going mad.’
It had to be nothing more than slander.
“Let the banquet begin,”
The Empress forced a smile and tried to calm the atmosphere.
‘Why?’
Even as the soft music began and the mood lightened, Adrian did not appear. Eatrice felt deeply unsettled.
‘Skipping this banquet is the same as declaring hostility toward the Empress.’
Adrian wasn’t foolish enough to make such a political misstep—especially with the Empress’s faction so strong.
After a long while, Eatrice finally rose from her seat and decided to return to the estate. There was no reason to stay any longer.
“Do they usually park the carriage this far away?”
As the sun dipped below the horizon and she wandered into the forest, Eatrice realized she was lost.
The palace grounds were different from what she remembered before her regression, and the surrounding darkness didn’t help. She’d rarely visited the Imperial Palace in her past life, and now the gloom was disorienting.
“The palace forest is always vast and dark.”
She sighed. Going alone without even a lamp had been a mistake.
Still, once she got out of the forest, the moon would light the way.
DONG—DONG—DONG—
The bell from the palace tower tolled the hour, marking the sun’s complete set and the moon’s rise.
As the clear chimes echoed through the quiet woods, Eatrice began walking again.
Then she heard something else.
A faint sound of metal clashing.
No matter how it was buried beneath the bell chimes, she could hear it clearly.
“The sound of swords clashing.”
The words slipped out before she realized. It was a sound most familiar to her ears.
Instinctively, she ran toward the source. She clutched her dress, lifting it as her heeled feet pounded the ground.
The instincts of a knight called her toward the battlefield. As they always had.
CLANG—
She spotted a dagger on the ground amid some bushes and grabbed it without hesitation. A corpse lay nearby, but she had no time to care.
CLANG!
Not far off, the sickeningly clear ring of metal slicing through air cut through the silence.
A sword glinted under the moonlight, striking down from above. The target barely dodged in time. A spray of blood followed, but it didn’t seem fatal.
Eatrice narrowed her eyes, analyzing the fighters. At first glance, there were three.
‘No… four!’
Three attackers were circling the fourth like predators. The one surrounded was noticeably smaller in build.
It was a boy.
Realizing this, Eatrice didn’t hesitate. She hurled the dagger from her grasp.
SWOOSH— A killing intent sharp enough to pierce the forest itself shot straight toward the enemy.
