Chapter 1
At the Height of Spring
Betting pools sprang up throughout every social club.
To think people were vulgar enough to gamble over the union of the two most noble families in the Stern Empire. It was absurd enough to make one laugh in disbelief, yet that was exactly how things were unfolding.
Leaning against the terrace railing in the middle of the night, Leonardo von Devonshire brought the cigarette loosely held between his fingers to his lips.
For a moment, he silently watched the white smoke drift away like a sigh before a snickering voice sounded beside him.
When he glanced over, it was Fabian — one of the pathetic friends who had jumped into the betting pool.
“So? What are you thinking?”
“About what?”
“Don’t pretend you don’t know. Your Grace, the fastest calculator in all of Stern.”
Fabian wiggled his eyebrows playfully as if to say, Why act clueless when you already know everything? It was irritatingly smug, but Leonardo only scoffed lightly.
Divorce.
They were not even married yet, and already people were talking about divorce.
One of the stars of the betting pool, Leonardo took another deep drag from his cigarette.
The union between the Devonshire family and the Rosenberg family was the hottest topic of this social season. No — had there even been an event in the past several years that delighted gossipmongers this much?
He could confidently say there had not.
That was how ridiculous the situation was.
Ridiculous that he himself was involved. Ridiculous that this whole situation existed at all.
Of course, throughout their long history, the two families had alternated between being the closest of allies and bitter enemies. So even if they reconciled temporarily through a political marriage, it would not have been especially strange.
Still…
Their relationship was terrible even now.
“Give us a hint.”
That was when Fabian pressed again. Dietrich and Reiner, who had been quietly listening nearby, joined in with comments of their own.
“Hey, hey. Divorce isn’t easy, you know. The legal procedures are a nightmare.”
“But this is none other than Duke Leonardo von Devonshire. He already has a record.”
“That was a broken engagement.”
Correcting the misinformation with a short reply, Leonardo flicked away the long ash from his cigarette.
He considered taking one more drag, but instead crushed it into the ashtray and casually swept his gaze across the night garden beyond the terrace. A few silhouettes could be seen slipping away from the ballroom to enjoy secret rendezvous in the darkness.
Maybe he should have taken one last puff.
For some reason, it felt as though bitter smoke was rising through his throat.
The ballroom. The night garden. Men and women sharing laughter. And then Ariel and Valentin. Those overly close cousins who looked unnecessarily perfect together.
Leonardo’s eyes narrowed at the irritating memories that surfaced one after another. Yet the moment after, all traces of darkness vanished from his expression as he straightened himself.
Adjusting the lapel of his already immaculate tailcoat for no reason at all, he turned toward the ballroom where the melody of the waltz was nearing its end.
“You are planning to divorce eventually, right?”
Fabian’s persistence sparked sudden irritation within him.
He had confidently bet expensive jewels on the outcome, yet apparently he was anxious after all. Since it looked like he would keep pestering him until he got an answer, Leonardo generously offered a response.
“If necessary, someday.”
It was not entirely wrong.
This was merely a political marriage arranged to satisfy the Queen and further Devonshire’s interests. If necessary, there was no reason he could not end this relationship just as he had broken off an engagement after only six months.
Fabian brightened immediately at the hopeful answer.
“When? Next summer? Or even sooner?”
So next summer must have been the deadline for the bet.
Leonardo stopped walking as calculations unexpectedly formed in his head.
Resort business rights. Railway reconstruction projects. Construction schedules and funding plans for each stage. And the impact a divorce would have on all of it.
“By then, there probably wouldn’t be any problems.”
Apparently satisfied with the answer, his friends burst into laughter. Swept along by the pathetic atmosphere, Leonardo let out a hollow chuckle himself.
“Noble trash.”
That was the merciless evaluation he received after sincerely answering their question.
Leonardo merely accepted it with an easy smile and resumed walking, leaving the terrace behind.
The brilliant light of the chandeliers stung his eyes. Beneath them, elegantly dressed ladies and gentlemen mingled together, enjoying the height of the ball’s lively atmosphere.
His sharp gaze swept across the crowd before settling on one woman.
Ariel von Rosenberg.
The other star of this season’s notorious bet. And the bride who would shine most brilliantly this summer.
At times like this, she truly had an audacious face. Just as expected from Heinz von Rosenberg’s daughter.
His detestable bride stood among the very people making cruel wagers about her without the slightest change in expression, wearing a perfectly social smile. She truly deserved the title of the jewel of high society, praised as the finest debutante to greet the Queen this season.
A crooked smile appeared on Leonardo’s lips as he approached her.
“My lady.”
The warmth vanished from Ariel’s bright smile as though it had been a lie. Her lips were still curved upward, yet her eyes had turned cold.
The surrounding crowd held their breath at the fascinating sight. There was unmistakable amusement in the way they watched the pair.
As though he noticed none of those gazes, Leonardo calmly extended his hand. The meaning behind the graceful gesture was obvious. Ariel looked displeased as her eyes moved between his hand and face.
“Would you care to dance?”
An awkward silence fell for a moment.
But only for an instant. Rumors were already running wild enough as it was, and Ariel had no desire to throw even better bait into the hyenas’ den.
When she placed her hand atop his, a relaxed smile spread across Leonardo’s lips. That shameless expression — as if he had known she would never refuse — somehow made Ariel feel humiliated. Her eyelashes trembled faintly.
“What a surprise. Asking me to dance, Duke Devonshire.”
“Well, unexpectedly enough, we are getting married.”
“Ah.”
A hollow smile escaped her lips, as though asking if that was the only reason.
Leonardo leaned closer and whispered softly.
“Smile properly, my lady. Her Majesty will only feel at ease if we appear to get along.”
Ariel’s green eyes, reminiscent of a summer garden, hardened instantly. Yet true to her reputation as this season’s brightest flower of society, she smoothly lifted the corners of her lips once more.
Though those beautiful emerald eyes remained ice cold.
Well, this is good enough, Leonardo thought as he placed a hand on her waist.
“I hope this dance will be our last.”
“With pleasure.”
Their sharp exchange ended there as the elegant melody of the waltz filled the ballroom.
It was, at last, spring.
The season when fresh green leaves emerged and flower buds that had remained tightly closed through winter finally bloomed.
Just as the refreshing fragrance of flowers carried new energy through the air, a new wind had also begun to blow through Milton Abbey, the territory of the Rosenberg family.
As a carriage loaded with luggage passed through the entrance of the country house and approached the mansion, curiosity and anticipation filled the faces of the lined-up servants.
Had their young lady matured greatly over the past two years? Or would she remain just as they remembered?
The carriage wheels finally came to a stop beneath their eager gazes.
Click.
The carriage door opened, and the Countess of Rosenberg — who had been waiting beneath the shade of the porte-cochère — stepped out eagerly into the sunlight.
She restrained herself from running recklessly toward her daughter for the sake of dignity, but she could not hide the radiant smile covering her face.
“Ariel!”
Welcoming her mother’s enthusiasm, Ariel accepted a servant’s hand as she stepped out of the carriage with a bright smile.
Though she had stubbornly insisted on traveling the continent to broaden her horizons, it was not as though she had never missed home during those two years.
Even while she was distracted by the wonders of foreign lands, whenever she found herself alone in quiet moments, every corner of Milton Abbey came to mind.
“Good heavens! How did your skin become this tanned?”
Though Ariel’s complexion was hardly darkened, Countess Rosenberg — Margarete — fussed dramatically. And understandably so. She had waited desperately for her daughter’s return, only for her to come back looking like this. After waiting so long, her daughter was supposed to appear as the perfect young lady this year.
“Arnon has warm weather all year round.”
Recalling the gentle climate of the last country she had visited, Ariel awkwardly touched her cheek with one hand.
Did I really tan that much?
As she tilted her head in confusion, Margarete adjusted Ariel’s crepe bonnet to cast a shadow over her face, as though she could not allow even a single ray of sunlight to touch her daughter’s skin any longer.
“This won’t do. Ariel, let’s go inside quickly.”
“Yes, Mother.”
With a bitter smile, Ariel followed where her mother led.
Their joyful reunion was brief.
Knowing exactly what made her mother so anxious, Ariel already found herself longing once more for the freedom of traveling, despite having only just returned home. The familiar nagging and sighs that had filled every letter from home already seemed to echo in her ears.
“Ariel.”
Without even giving her time to recover from her travels — or to step foot inside her beloved room — Margarete lowered her voice while they crossed the great hall.
And then came the lecture Ariel had expected perfectly.
“You are already twenty years old. This year, you absolutely must debut in high society.”
