Chapter 65
The outdoor ballroom was set up by opening the Imperial Garden. Around a grand three-tiered fountain, tables with desserts and cocktails had been placed here and there.
White selix flowers, like clusters of snowflakes, draped around the garden’s edges, while small lamps strung between trees glowed softly.
At the arched garden gate adorned with lavender, the chamberlain checked the names and identities of the party guests.
When Eleanor approached with her hand resting on Sinclair’s arm, he announced their names and families aloud.
“Lord Sinclair Tess, heir to the Duchy of Tess, and Lady Eleanor Stikov of the Stikov County!”
The crowd’s gaze shifted to them. Opening fans in haste, people huddled together and whispered, and Eleanor smiled bitterly.
She could already guess what they were murmuring. It would be no different from the gossip rags that had printed a special issue that very morning.
“Shall we go to Lydia first?”
“Alright.”
Eleanor had no intention of staying by Sinclair’s side the whole ball, so she decided to escort him to Lydia and began searching the hall with her eyes.
The male lead should go to the female lead.
But before she spotted Lydia—who must have already arrived with Vincent—someone else entered her line of sight.
Not by her will, but by theirs.
A young lady she had never seen before suddenly approached her.
A beautiful lady with golden hair and eyes like red roses. Looking at those delicate, elegant features, Eleanor thought:
‘She looks… like Sinclair?’
As if reading her thoughts, the lady spread her feathered fan and smiled sweetly.
“Hello, Lady Stikov.”
“Oh—yes, hello.”
Her voice was high and delicate, like a songbird’s. Eleanor was flustered that a complete stranger had come up to greet her.
Who is she, and why to me?
Her question was soon answered.
“I am Clara Tess of the Duchy of Tess.”
Eleanor’s eyes widened. No wonder she resembled Sinclair—she was his younger sister.
She had heard of her, but this was their first meeting. Eleanor’s social circle wasn’t wide, so she tended not to know those outside her own orbit. And unless it was Sinclair, there was no reason for her to ever encounter the Tess family.
“Clara, what are you doing here?”
Sinclair sounded displeased, clearly not welcoming his sister’s sudden appearance. Clara only smiled gently at him.
“I was curious, brother.”
At her soft, respectful tone, Eleanor thought of Stella. Her friend would never use such gentle language—she would just call her brother by name, not “dear brother.” The difference was stark.
To think someone could speak to their own sibling with such mildness and grace. If Stella ever tried, she’d probably bite her tongue instead.
“What were you curious about?”
“I wanted to see who it was you gave up being my partner for.”
At that, Eleanor glanced unconsciously at Sinclair. She had assumed he chose her simply because no one else was available. But if Clara’s partner spot was empty, surely it was his duty as her brother to take it.
Suddenly Eleanor felt as if she had stolen Clara’s rightful place—though it wasn’t even a desirable one. If she had known, she would have gladly yielded.
“I thought you were going to meet another Lady Stikov.” Clara’s eyes curved like half-moons. “I didn’t realize this Lady Stikov was the one.”
Her words carried layers of meaning, none of them pleasant. Eleanor chose not to dwell on them.
Sinclair frowned down at his sister. Tall and slender, she still had a delicate build, smaller than his but taller than Eleanor.
“Clara.”
His low voice was a warning, telling her to stop and step back. But she tilted her head innocently.
“Still, brother, isn’t it true you like Miss Lydia?”
Clara peeked at Eleanor, covering her smile with her fan.
“My apologies. It was rude to say such a thing in front of another Lady Stikov.”
Her transparent, captivating gaze turned on Eleanor.
“Please forgive my rudeness, Lady Stikov. I only just turned of age this year and haven’t shaken off my childishness.”
Clara had just turned eighteen. Eleanor, three years her senior, couldn’t bring herself to be harsh toward the Duke’s daughter and her partner’s little sister.
So she smiled and waved it off. If she acted too coldly, Clara would simply gain a reputation for being heartless.
“It’s fine, Lady Tess. I suppose I made you lonely by being Sinclair’s partner. I’m sorry.”
She even apologized for taking Sinclair from her. A girl already saddled with rumors must have found it difficult to yield her brother to another woman.
“No, it’s fine. I’m an adult now—I must stand on my own. If I keep leaning on my brother, what would people think?”
Clara swept her eyes around before adding,
“Besides, with so many watching my brother, it wouldn’t do for me to cause strange rumors.”
She said it in a pure, innocent tone, but her words pricked Eleanor’s conscience.
“Clara Tess.”
Seeing Eleanor’s expression darken, Sinclair stepped forward, frowning more sternly than before.
But Clara only smiled coldly, beautifully.
“Don’t get worked up, brother. It looks unseemly.”
“So you came here not to greet me, but to scold me?”
“Of course not.”
Clara shook her head lightly, as though the idea was absurd, while gazing at the two of them with disarmingly kind eyes.
That false warmth reminded Eleanor of someone else.
‘Would I ever treat you that way?’
That same lofty, falsely kind air. Clara was less practiced, but still similar. And to see the younger generation wield the same tactics left Eleanor with a bitter taste.
In short—Clara did not look kindly upon her.
“That’s enough. Return now.”
Sinclair’s tone grew cold, but Clara showed no sign of yielding.
“And you, brother?”
“My partner is right here.”
Meaning he would remain with Eleanor. Clara turned softly, like a bird tilting its head, and looked at Eleanor.
“Do you really need to keep my brother with you, Lady Stikov?”
The rebuke stung. Eleanor hadn’t planned to cling to him, but being told so outright triggered a strange sense of guilt.
Grinding his teeth, Sinclair answered for her.
“Clara, stop being rude. Staying with one’s partner during the ball is natural.”
“You won’t be going to Miss Lydia?”
Caught in his sister’s clear-eyed stare, Sinclair faltered.
“That’s…”
“Then may I ask why you two became partners in the first place?”
A silence fell between the three. Eleanor thought this was the right moment to excuse herself. She couldn’t hold on to him any longer—not when even his sister was trying to separate them.
After all, she had only meant to deliver him to Lydia anyway. She opened her mouth to say so—
“Because she’s Lydia’s sister.”
Sinclair spoke a beat earlier.
Lydia’s sister.
Eleanor froze as her blood turned cold. Clara shot her a glance, then stepped closer to her brother.
He, too focused on handling Clara, failed to notice Eleanor’s pallor.
“…That’s all. Because she’s Lydia’s sister.”
“And what does that matter?”
“Because if not me—she’d be all alone.”
“So what you mean is—”
Clara’s lips curved into a radiant smile, just as flowers seemed to bloom around her. She had already caught the sight of Eleanor paling.
“That you took pity on her—Lydia’s poor sister—so she wouldn’t be left out?”
Though harsher, it was the plainest way to phrase what Sinclair had implied. At that, Eleanor quietly withdrew her hand from his arm.
“Clara, watch your words.”
Sinclair bristled, but Clara folded her dress hem neatly and bowed toward Eleanor.
“I apologize. Please forgive my careless tongue.”
“…Very well.”
Eleanor accepted weakly. She had no wish to fight with a stranger, nor to reject such a polite apology.
Clara’s satisfied smile flickered briefly before she straightened.
“I’ll take my leave then. I wouldn’t want to risk further offense.”
Having achieved her purpose, she departed gracefully.
“Until next time, Lady Stikov.”
“Yes, Lady Tess.”
Clara retreated with the poise of a stage dancer. Once she was gone, Sinclair pressed a hand to his forehead with a sigh.
“Don’t mind her. Tess pride is too high.”
“I know, Sinclair.”
That his sister had played the villain to protect the honor of Tess was obvious.
Which only proved how harmful Eleanor’s presence was to him. Next to Lydia, she was worthless.
For the “extra sister” to stand at the hero’s side was far too presumptuous. To be scolded by a girl three years younger only made it clearer.
Eleanor laughed bitterly to herself.
She had already planned to leave Sinclair with Lydia, but now the bitter taste in her mouth was stronger.
“Let’s find Lydia.”
Still, since he had sacrificed his reputation for her, she managed a polite smile.
Seeing it, Sinclair’s brows twitched. It was the same smile she had always worn before Oklamara—the smile before everything changed.
‘Why now?’
He didn’t realize how much his careless words had wounded her. Nobles often told convenient lies, after all.
And as the future Duke of Tess, Sinclair had spoken contrary to his heart countless times. This time, too, his habits betrayed him.
“You—”
“Isn’t that Vincent over there? Looks like Lydia’s with him.”
But Eleanor didn’t know, nor would she care.
The simplest, safest thing to do was what she had intended all along—put the hero back at the heroine’s side.
This was Beiren.
The stage of the original story, centered around Lydia.
It was not a place where Eleanor could ever claim anything of hers.
“Come, Sinclair.”
She smiled once at his bewildered look, then walked toward Lydia. He had no choice but to follow.
As they neared, Sinclair suddenly realized his blunder—but far too late.
“Lydia, there you are.”
“Big sister! You came with Sinclair?”
“Of course.”
Eleanor, hiding what had just happened, smiled serenely.
Lydia, sipping cocktails with Vincent, offered her one as well. Eleanor declined softly.
“I’m going to see Stella. Stay here with Sinclair.”
“Shouldn’t you two stay together as partners?”
“It’s fine. Nothing will happen tonight.”
She had dressed plainly to avoid attention, and she did have a nominal partner—enough for excuses if needed. Sinclair didn’t need to be tied to her.
“Alright. See you later.”
“Yes.”
Her role was finished. She had guided the hero to the heroine.
After exchanging farewells, Eleanor glanced at Sinclair to say goodbye as well.
But he was staring at her strangely, then turned away with irritation.
“I’ll go.”
“Mm.”
As she began to leave, he caught her wrist.
“Come back for the first dance.”
The first dance was always with one’s partner. Since Eleanor was his, they were expected to share it.
She only smiled faintly.
“I won’t be dancing. So dance the first with whomever you wish.”
“….”
“I’ll be off.”
He didn’t answer, but Eleanor assumed he understood and turned away.
Sinclair watched her figure disappear into the crowd, his expression tangled with conflicting thoughts.
