“My lady. If it’s not too much trouble, might I ask your name?”


A man with a flushed face approached her. Caught off guard, Roxana could only blink in response. This was a situation she had never encountered in her life. She needed to return alone.


“You came with Lord Russell, didn’t you? To be honest, I haven’t been able to take my eyes off you since then. I’ve been searching for you just to speak with you. I know it is terribly rude to approach you without an introduction, but…”


The man took another step closer. He looked ready to grab her hand and kiss the back of it right then and there. Roxana instinctively stepped back and averted her gaze.


“I apologize.”


“Do you, by any chance, have a fiancé?”


The man asked again, his face clouded with disappointment at her quiet rejection.


“Even so, I would appreciate it if you could at least tell me your name.”


The man scanned Roxana from head to toe. With her soft, flowing blonde hair and mysterious violet eyes, she was a beauty rarely seen, even in the most prestigious of banquets.


“I apologize.”


The moment the man’s gaze traveled from her long, white neck down to her chest, Roxana, having apologized repeatedly, hurriedly turned her back on him.


“Wait a moment.”


Just then, the man grabbed her arm as she tried to pull away. Startled, Roxana reflexively shook his hand off. When she had been in a similar situation not long ago, she had merely been surprised, but this time, a strange chill ran down her spine. Offended by her continued rejection, the man’s face twisted.


“There’s no need to play so hard to get.”


“What do you think you’re doing?”


The moment Roxana furrowed her brows at the man’s tightening grip, a cold voice cut through his words.


“M… Marquess of Russell.”


“I asked you what you think you’re doing.”


Grey eyes stared fixedly at the man’s hand, which was still clutching Roxana’s arm. The murderous intent was so palpable that the man dropped her arm as if burned.


“I, I just thought she was about to fall, so I reached out to steady her.”


He must have lost his mind for a moment, fueled by drink. To dare touch Curtis Russell’s woman—the man before him was a monster who, during his days as a mercenary, had been as notorious as any band of northern barbarians.


“I’m glad to see you’re safe. W-well then, I shall take my leave.”


Realizing that if he got on the wrong side of this man, he wouldn’t even be able to keep his bones intact, the man offered an awkward smile and scurried away.


A hollow, cold wind blew through the space where the terrified man had fled. Of all things, to be seen in such a situation. Roxana let out a deep, internal sigh. Before she could figure out what to do, a chilling remark fell over her head.


“Is this why you coaxed Frey into coming?”


“……Pardon?”


Roxana asked back at the absurd question.


“What are you talking about?”


“You know what I’m talking about, Roxana.”


Curtis smiled thinly and bowed his head. His shadow completely engulfed her.


“Are you trying to meet a man, wash away your status, and become some noble lady?”


“…….”


“I understand. You want to live comfortably, wearing fine clothes, eating good food, and surrounded by maids.”


As the sarcasm continued, Roxana’s initially flustered expression gradually turned calm. That reaction only twisted Curtis’s mood further. He felt like a fool for having desperately searched for her, fearing she might have run into her former fiancé. He even questioned why he had been so frantic to find her. Was it to see her, dressed so beautifully, alone with some man whose name he didn’t even know?


“Aren’t you going to answer me?”


“I gave you an answer before, but if that is what you want to believe, then believe it.”


She would not be swayed. Roxana suppressed the surge of emotion rising within her. Curtis was fickle, inscrutable, and cruel even when he pretended to be kind. He was merely trying to toy with her, much like a cat playing with a mouse.


“So you won’t deny it.”


Curtis sneered and turned around.


“Let’s go. Frey is waiting.”


The banquet was not yet over. Though she wanted to return to the estate this very instant.


* * *


“May the prosperity of the South be eternal!”


“Eternal!”


As the clown’s performance ended, thunderous applause erupted. The Baroness, having finished her toast as the host, clapped twice toward the musicians. As if waiting for the cue, lively music began to flow through the hall. The guests rose from their seats and approached the members of the opposite sex they had been eyeing.


In an instant, the center of the spacious hall was filled with men and women dancing to the music. Naturally, people’s gazes turned toward the Russell siblings, who were rare attendees. Since it was customary for men to ask women to dance, several young ladies hovered around Curtis.


“Marquess, will you not dance? The ladies are waiting.”


A noblewoman sitting to his right spoke to him smoothly. Curtis smiled faintly and quietly tilted his glass.


“I don’t know how to dance. You would be better off dancing with a doll than with a man like me.”


“Oh my. That is a pity.”


The noblewoman, hiding her embarrassed expression behind her fan, turned to speak to someone else. The respite from the tedious conversation was brief, as two more men approached.


“Is this Lord Russell? To what do we owe the honor of the Marquess attending such an event?”


“I’ve been cooped up in my estate, and I feared I might forget all my etiquette and such.”


“Forget your etiquette? Ha ha.”


“As you know, I only have one talent.”


Curtis replied sharply, making a gesture of slitting his own throat. The men, feeling a chill run down their spines, exchanged glances and cleared their throats.


“T-that is…”


Seeing their reaction, Curtis swallowed a scoff. Though he was born into nobility, he had once been driven to the brink of total ruin after being framed for treason. After clearing his name and being reinstated, he had faced much opposition. The reason was his past as the leader of a savage and cruel mercenary group.


However, the most fatal reason was something else entirely. While wandering the country, he had occasionally received requests to invade neighboring territories or ambush the processions of high-ranking guests. Yet, he had never accepted requests that were troublesome or lacked a clear justification. Because of this, there were several lords who held a grudge against him.


“Ahem, that aside, I heard a rumor that a mine was discovered on Lord Russell’s estate…”


“That is correct. I have a few proposals regarding that matter.”


Realizing it would be difficult to build a rapport with him, the men got straight to the point. Listening to them half-heartedly, Curtis fought back a yawn.


He had come here because it was Frey’s wish, but it was tedious and boring nonetheless. He couldn’t understand why people poured so much time and money into such trivial entertainment. His gaze flickered to the left. Roxana, looking troubled, was trying to stop Frey.


“Why don’t you stop drinking and come get some fresh air with me?”


“I’ve hardly had a few glasses. If you want fresh air, go by yourself.”


“But.”


“Are you my mother or something?”


Frey shook off Roxana’s hand and began fumbling across the table again, looking for her wine. Eventually, unable to watch any longer, Curtis snatched the glass from her.


“Frey. Stop drinking.”


“Ah. Brother.”


Frey turned her head, her face already flushed with intoxication.


“You seemed so busy that I thought I wasn’t even on your mind, but I suppose you were watching me after all?”


“Stop drinking and go outside for a moment. It’s not that cold out.”


“If you say so, I will.”


“I’ll be back soon.”


Roxana, supporting the swaying Frey, led her outside. Grey eyes stared intently at their retreating backs.


* * *


Frey had drunk so much wine that she could barely walk straight. Roxana sat her down on a bench outside.


“Why did you drink so much?”


“I don’t know. It just kept going down.”


Frey laughed happily, leaning her head against Roxana’s shoulder. With a resigned expression, Roxana stroked Frey’s hair. Enjoying the gentle touch, Frey muttered.


“I’m never coming to a place like this again.”


“Why? You seemed to be enjoying yourself.”


“It’s not as fun as I thought it would be.”


“Everyone seemed very interested in you, my lady. They spoke to you quite a bit.”


“Pfft.”


At Roxana’s reply, Frey burst into sudden laughter, clutching her stomach. Flustered, Roxana stared at her. Only after laughing for a long time did Frey respond.


“They aren’t interested in me. It’s all because of my brother.”


“Pardon?”


“I’m not a fool, Roxana. People aren’t interested in a blind young girl. They’re likely speaking to this pitiful sister to get on the good side of my brother, whose influence is growing by the day.”


Roxana remained silent at the raw, unfiltered words.


“Something must have happened. Didn’t it?”


“Nothing at all.”


“My lady.”


Roxana called out to the denying Frey in a low voice and took her small hand. Despite the cool air, the skin she touched was warm.


“What happened? Please tell me. I will keep it a secret.”


“……The story.”


At the serious tone, Frey’s face grew increasingly clouded. Roxana waited quietly for her to open her mouth.

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