The appearance of the new high lord pleased the King so much that he announced a jousting tournament following the hunting competition. The prize was not just any wreath but a luxurious golden tiara. No one in Tyche was surprised when the new event was announced.

The King was known for being generous at best and impulsive at worst. Still, he was generally humble and mostly merciful, which was a blessing for all the kingdom’s subjects.

The day the jousting tournament was announced, it rained in Tyche.

The rain, which started in the afternoon, wasn’t heavy but annoying enough to deter people from going outside. Thus, the nobles gathered in small groups, focusing on their social activities.

Bridget Erentis was probably doing the same, as there was no sign of her red hair in the drawing room assigned to the Duke of Trisel. Ethan collapsed onto the sofa, exhausted.

He felt lifeless. He wished the sofa and the ground would swallow him up and erase his existence. He opened his eyes with difficulty and looked around the empty room again.

Bridget Erentis was surprisingly diligent in her duties as the Duchess.

It was strange that she dedicated herself to the Duke’s family while tormenting him to death, but he didn’t want to understand her.

Ethan, who had fallen into a short sleep, woke up with a start at the sound of the door opening. His concentration and cognitive abilities might be broken, but his vigilance was intact, thankfully. He slowly got up and glanced at the two women who had entered the room.

Bridget Erentis and…

Who is that? He frowned slightly, staring at the completely unfamiliar blonde woman. Her golden hair had a subtle red tint.

…Does she resemble her?

“Oh my, Ethan. You were here.”

What’s with that? Her endlessly gentle voice gave him chills. Ethan didn’t bother hiding his serious expression but chose not to respond. Meanwhile, he reached a conclusion from his persistent observation.

She doesn’t resemble her.

Feeling suddenly drained, he tried to leave the room. But before he could, Bridget, with a mocking smile, sat on the opposite sofa and reached out to the woman.

“This is Lady Isabel Dubette of the Count of Chase.”

“I am Isabel Dubette of Chase. It is an honor to meet you, Your Highness, the Duke.”

The name sounded familiar, but Ethan decided not to bother remembering. After all, the woman wasn’t important to him.

However, since the blonde lady was curtsying so politely, he sighed and acknowledged her.

“Ethan Erentis of Trisel.”

“You are quite handsome.”

“Is that so.”

“I have long wished for the opportunity to speak with you, and I am delighted that my wish has come true.”

“Such a modest wish.”

“……”

“Well then.”

He was about to excuse himself and leave when the venomous woman across from him quietly spoke.

“Ethan.”

“……”

“Ethan?”

He knew what this meeting was about. That’s why he wanted to avoid it. He would never marry a woman introduced by Bridget Erentis, and this awkward matchmaking session would yield no results.

Ethan hesitated as he stared into Bridget’s angry brown eyes. He knew from bitter experience that even a rational person could do crazy things when pushed.

And the madness in Bridget Erentis’s eyes hadn’t diminished as much as he thought. Unbelievable. Honestly, the person who should be filled with resentment and bitterness isn’t her but Hyacinth. What right does she have to feel wronged? The one who should feel the most wronged is neither her nor me but Hyacinth.

Bridget lightly gestured toward Isabel’s hair.

“Why, Ethan. I went to great lengths to match your taste.”

“……”

“Isn’t it your taste?”

“Taste?”

“My dear son has quite a distinct preference for hair color. Isn’t that right?”

“You’re good at deluding yourself.”

“That’s a very harsh rejection. Such denial sounds like affirmation.”

Ethan stared at Bridget for a moment, speechless. Her implicit message was too clear.

He knew she would notice that he cared about Hyacinth.

But he didn’t expect her to press so blatantly. No matter what, wasn’t Hyacinth the King’s cherished niece? It was absurd and laughable that Bridget Erentis, a distant relative of the royal family, would threaten someone with a stronger lineage.

How dare she?

Ethan considered using his sharp tongue to land a verbal blow. Meanwhile, the noblewoman whose name he couldn’t remember kept glancing around nervously.

Why did she even come to this meeting?

Her choice was so pathetic that he didn’t even feel pity. Just as Ethan resolutely stood up to leave, his misfortune began again. Misfortune tends to come in waves…

A servant quietly announced from outside.

“Lady Hyacinth of Laurel requests an audience.”

“Refuse.”

“Let her in.”

Ethan’s refusal and Bridget’s acceptance came out simultaneously. Ethan considered strangling her. Noticing his blatant gaze, she smiled brightly.

“Let her in.”

“……”

“If you feel pressured by the presence of three women, Ethan, you may leave.”

Ethan Erentis ground his teeth and sat back down on the sofa.

* * *

Hyacinth’s visit to the drawing room of the Duke of Trisel was not her idea. It was due to external circumstances. Specifically, her uncle, who had abruptly announced the jousting tournament, had taken it a step further.

All noble families currently staying in Tyche were required to send at least one knight to the tournament. The only exception was the royal family of Hener.

Moreover, her aunt had spent the entire morning joyfully signing invitations. The task of delivering these personally crafted letters fell to the three princes and Hyacinth.

Hyacinth was assigned to deliver the invitation to the Duke of Trisel. It seemed like Arthur’s doing, but there was no evidence, and she had no reason to refuse, so she set off with a sullen face.

Already biting back complaints, she was further annoyed by the scene that greeted her when the door opened.

She didn’t know why, but seeing Bridget Erentis, whose hair color was similar to hers, and the man and woman sitting opposite each other, made her stomach churn.

Was it because she saw an unpleasant man and an equally unpleasant woman with a poor soul caught in between? Or was it because she clearly heard the voice that had refused her visit?

“Lady Hyacinth of Laurel.”

“Duchess of Trisel.”

She gracefully approached Bridget, who greeted her warmly.

“How have you been? I was just introducing Lady Isabel Dubette of Chase to Ethan. One is handsome, and the other is virtuous—don’t they look perfect together?”

Hyacinth simultaneously took in the sight of the silver-haired young man and the blonde woman. Isabel Dubette might not be described as a dazzling beauty, but she was delicate and pure, likely to match well with any man.

“They do look good together.”

Hyacinth nodded with a gentle smile.

“I wish you both a beautiful future together.”

“Thank you, lady.”

“You’re welcome. Lady Chase, you are calm and thoughtful, and you will be a great blessing to Trisel.”

Throughout their exchange of pleasantries, the Duke of Trisel showed no reaction. His complexion was as pale as a corpse frozen in winter.

Suddenly, his ashen gaze landed on her cheek. Hyacinth didn’t bother interpreting the seemingly despairing look in his eyes. Whatever the Duke was brooding over was none of her concern.

What bothered her more was not the Duke, but the Duchess.

Bridget Erentis was trembling as if she was about to burst into laughter. Judging by her clenched teeth, she seemed to be holding back a laugh that was closer to mockery. This made Hyacinth quite uncomfortable.

So, after exchanging a few more words with Isabel Dubette, she promptly left Trisel’s drawing room.

Although she felt sorry for Lady Chase, caught between a madman and an even madder woman, it was up to her to escape. Ugh, she should never get involved with those two.

“Lady.”

Hyacinth was startled and turned around with wide eyes. Her sleeve was firmly grasped. She was so tightly held that she was momentarily speechless.

Why was this man holding onto her? He should be inside, dreaming of a sweet life with Isabel Dubette.

“Why did you grab me?”

Ethan Erentis, who had the audacity to stop her, said nothing. He stood there with a forlorn expression, like a lost child.

He looked pitiful.

Realizing this, Hyacinth felt a surge of irritation. Though it was an unfounded emotion, she suddenly wanted to hurl a more biting sarcasm at him than Bridget Erentis’s mocking laughter. At this colorless man.

“That’s not it.”

“What’s not?”

“…I don’t intend to marry.”

“That’s not something for me to concern myself with, Your Highness. You should tell Lady Chase and the Duchess inside.”

Ethan Erentis remained silent for a long time.

Hyacinth tugged at her sleeve a few times in irritation, but his grip was annoyingly firm. The man, standing like an ice pillar, finally whispered.

“I wanted to tell you as well, lady.”

“Why?”

“…”

“Do you like me?”

A daring question. It was not a question befitting a noble lady’s manners. As soon as she asked, Hyacinth felt a strange sensation.

If Ethan Erentis said he liked her, she would want to slap him. He would never say he liked her, of course. That belief was deeply ingrained in her soul.

But she had no idea where that firm belief came from.

Ethan Erentis was just as agitated as she was. His usually expressionless, cold face twitched violently. It was as if a massive stone fortress was collapsing. Ethan Erentis wavered rapidly, evoking such a desolate scene.

Oh, she really wanted to slap him.

“You.”

Finally, he spoke.

His voice was half-hoarse, filled with desperate despair.

“You evoke the most intense emotions in me, lady.”

“Really?”

“…Yes.”

Such a response infuriated her even more.

She felt sorry for Ethan Erentis, but his very existence might be the problem.

Hyacinth smiled brightly.

“A man who can’t even properly say he likes me is utterly disqualified in my eyes.”

“…”

“If you want to reject the marriage proposal, do it inside, not here.”

Only then did the Duke’s hand slide away.

His hand fell weakly and pathetically. Hyacinth, glancing at his pitiful gesture, fluttered away like a bird regaining its freedom. She moved faster than etiquette allowed.

After crossing one corridor, Hyacinth realized she still had the invitation in her hand.

“Ah!”

She stomped her foot in frustration. Thankfully, no one was watching.

* * *