Chapter 51
“What are you muttering about?”
“Adrien.”
With a long sigh, the Grand Duke spoke his name. The wild emotions that had surged up like a fit finally calmed, and he regained his composure.
Thanks to Adrien, the Grand Duke managed to grab hold of the thread of reason again. Shocked that an unfamiliar feeling had almost made him lose control, he hurried to steady his breathing.
“If you stare that openly, people will notice,” Adrien whispered, keeping his voice low so others wouldn’t hear.
“Notice what?”
“Sir?”
Adrien blinked several times at the Grand Duke—who was asking others to explain his own emotions. Did he still not realize how he felt?
It was absurd, but Adrien didn’t feel like being kind enough to spell it out. He, too, hadn’t completely given up on Eilene yet.
So he covered it with a half-joke.
“Oh, it’s obvious. Your hostility toward His Majesty.”
“Everyone knows that already.”
“Not like this. There’s a difference between feeling it and showing it on your face.”
The two bickered back and forth.
Because their voices rose a little, Eilene noticed them—and so did others nearby.
“Oh my, that’s His Grace the Grand Duke and Sir Run,” someone said.
“Seeing them together, I guess the rumor about a marriage talk with House Run was true.”
“They’re both so gallant—what a handsome pair.”
The ladies blushed and chimed in one after another.
Handsome beside handsome certainly had a multiplying effect; attention naturally focused on them.
Anyone would think those two were the ones with a marriage arrangement, Eilene thought.
There was no point saying the Grand Duke was good-looking—everyone knew it—and Adrien’s features were quite well-balanced too. Maybe not a classic “stunning beauty,” but definitely attractive; preferences would differ.
And wow, rumors sure travel fast.
Even just hearing there had been a marriage talk between Navien and the Grand Duke bothered Eilene. Only recently had she clearly realized that the unnamed feeling she’d been carrying was jealousy.
The Grand Duke was the same. Seized by fierce jealousy, the swordsman had momentarily lost his sense of proportion.
The only person here who fully grasped both of their feelings was Adrien.
Tch. What a headache.
They say you can’t hide love; other people might figure it out before you do yourself. If it got out that the second in line to the throne was in love with the Emperor’s fiancée? That could spark a civil war.
This is all for Eilene’s sake, Adrien told himself.
So he deliberately stuck to the Grand Duke’s side—part bodyguard, part watchdog.
He really shone when the Emperor and Eilene began to dance.
Every ten seconds, Adrien had to stop the Grand Duke. The man’s hand kept drifting toward his sword hilt. Adrien grabbed his hand, spoke to him, even popped food into his mouth to distract him.
People gave them strange looks, but he couldn’t stop.
Only after those tense five minutes did Adrien finally feel released from the task.
“I’m going to ask Eilene for a dance as well,” the Grand Duke said.
“Your Grace, please hold back.”
“Why?”
And here I thought I was free… Adrien groaned inwardly. One more obstacle remained.
He pressed a hand to his forehead, seized the Grand Duke’s arm, and forcibly steered him into a quiet corner away from people.
“Sir Run, why are you constantly getting in my way?”
“Really, Your Grace? You know exactly why. What if Eilene slips and can’t control her expression? You know His Majesty’s personality.”
Everything Adrien said—from the first to the last word—was correct, and the Grand Duke’s rebellious urge went limp.
Just as Adrien said, Emperor Kyle was sharp and sly. He would notice even the smallest change in Eilene, and once suspicion sprouted, he would hound the target relentlessly until satisfied.
The Grand Duke swallowed the bulldozer-like urge to push forward. It was all for Eilene. He exhaled his pent-up agitation with deep breaths.
“…All right.”
“Wise choice.”
Adrien patted his shoulder to comfort him. Having loved someone unrequitedly for a very long time, he understood the Grand Duke’s feelings as a seasoned senior in love.
But misunderstandings about their “friendship” were starting to spread. Not far away, a couple of ladies were watching.
One lady widened her eyes at Adrien pushing the Grand Duke around, then nudged her friend’s side and lowered her voice.
“Hey, look over there.”
“Hm? What?”
“Don’t they seem… involved?”
They stared openly. The Grand Duke, of far higher rank, wasn’t angry at Adrien’s rudeness. He just nodded obediently like a well-trained dog.
“The mood between them is kind of heated.”
“You see it too, right? They say he refused a marriage talk with Navien—what if he actually loves her brother?”
“Oh my!”
Right then, Adrien was patting the Grand Duke’s shoulder. It looked very affectionate.
“Isn’t it true? Look how tender that touch is.”
“Maybe it is. They say handsome men are either crazy or—well.”
The ladies whispered on.
The music stopped, and the nobles who had been dancing moved back to the edges. By the master of ceremonies’ announcement, the Emperor was about to speak.
Curious about what the announcement would be, Eilene stood quietly at Kyle’s side and waited. Once the hall settled, Count Livingston, the chief chamberlain, addressed everyone.
“Tonight’s party has been prepared by His Most Noble Majesty for his fiancée, Lady Cowet. For the final part of this event, His Majesty has arranged gifts to present to the lady. Please enjoy.”
At his signal, the doormen threw open the doors leading to the back. Maids and attendants filed in like a parade, each carrying a gift.
“Wow…”
“What magnificent presents!”
They piled jewels, dresses, rare fabrics, and all sorts of costly items in the center of the hall. The nobles couldn’t stop gasping at the splendor. Eilene, completely surprised by the unexpected spectacle, widened her eyes at the glittering treasures.
“Your Majesty, what is all this?”
“I prepared them because I wanted to give them to you, Eilene. They are my devotion.”
The Emperor smiled, pleased to see the gifts reflected in her eyes.
What woman, he thought, dislikes shiny things?
He was sure that a barrage of wealth would make any noblewoman yearn and cling.
“So many… how could I…”
Feeling burdened, Eilene trailed off. The Emperor leaned close and whispered into her ear.
“To tell the truth, half of these came from Count Livingston’s own purse.”
“What? Why?”
“I hear the chamberlain’s son behaved rudely to you. I was going to cut out the wretch’s tongue, but after much begging, we settled on having him contribute to these gifts for you.”
“Oh.”
When Eilene looked up, mouth slightly open in surprise, the Emperor smiled with pride—as if asking, I did well, didn’t I?
In a trembling voice, she said slowly, “Thank you, Your Majesty.”
“It’s nothing.”
Two sentences filled Eilene’s mind:
‘So the Emperor heard the rumors,’ and ‘He avenged me.’
This male lead truly knew how to seize a person’s heart.
Even Eilene—who knew this was not pure feeling but an attempt to win favor—couldn’t help being shaken. It felt like he had found the exact itch and scratched it; the precision made her shiver.
So this was the plan from the start, thought the Grand Duke, watching with displeasure from afar.
To hold such a grand party and even a public gift ceremony—clearly the Emperor had a deliberate goal.
He wasn’t planning a wedding; he was painting the surface to look good. The real goal was shaping public opinion.
People would be swept up by his tactics and praise his tenderness. Seeing him devoted and generous to his lover, he would become the ideal man in the eyes of many women. Step by step, he’d launder his image into that of a virtuous ruler.
The aim was obvious.
In the end, what the Emperor wanted was not Eilene the person, but Lady Cowet the fiancée.
The Grand Duke felt both anger and a strange relief. It was infuriating that Eilene’s true worth was being ignored—but if there was no absolute reason she had to remain in that position…?
Lost in these tangled thoughts, he passed the rest of the party quietly. Only after confirming Eilene returned safely to the ducal residence did he head back to his own quarters.
The next day, I sat in a chair and stared blankly at a corner of my room. That morning, all the gifts the Emperor had presented at the party were delivered to the duke’s estate. Jewels, dresses, fabrics, expensive ornaments—piled up high.
“Goodness. Look at all these presents.”
“Oh my, my lady. You must be so happy!”
The household staff clapped with delight. A fiancée loved by her betrothed is supposed to be happy. But with my complicated situation, I felt deeply uneasy.
Yesterday, the Emperor gave me two gifts:
One was things. The other was revenge. Forcing that obnoxious Count Livingston to cough up his wealth—yes, that was refreshing. But I couldn’t be simply happy about it.
What on earth is the Emperor thinking?
I can’t shake the feeling he’s decided to win me over on purpose. Why, unlike the original story, is he not pushing me away but drawing closer? I had no way to know his true intentions.
Then something else happened that backed up my hunch.
