The annual debutante season has always been of great interest to the upper class, regardless of the era.

For parents with children of marriageable age, it marked the start of the matchmaking season. And for those a little younger…

“Hey, this year’s debutantes are actually worth watching.”

Many men simply enjoyed the fact that there were now more women they might have a chance with.

This was particularly evident among the young men looking down from the second-floor gallery at the first-floor hall, where the dancing had just begun.

They were all from noble families — some had graduated from the academy and gone on to university, while others had already begun taking over their family businesses.

Kenneth stood a few steps away from the group of men leaning on the railing, holding a glass in one hand.

He was twenty that year. After hearing that kind of talk four or five times, it had already grown tiresome.

“They’re all going to end up engaged and married anyway. Don’t they get tired of this?”

Even his own parents had started to suggest, albeit subtly, that he should propose to Theodora Byron.

It was a laughable notion. He turned them down without hesitation.

But then one of the boys, who was leaning so far over the railing that he was almost hanging off it, spoke up.

“Wasn’t Quentin’s little sister the prettiest of them all?”

“Yeah, totally. She really stood out.”

Quentin Aberdeen’s sister.

Kenneth paused mid-motion, his glass hovering just short of his lips.

Quentin might have been considered one of Kenneth’s ‘friends’, but everyone knew he was at the bottom of the group’s hierarchy.

Naturally, no one had held any real expectations for his sister, especially since she had never appeared in public before.

Until today.

With a reluctant sigh, Kenneth recalled the moment the debutante ladies were presented.

Ariana had crossed the hall slowly, escorted by her brother. Unlike the others, she wasn’t weighed down with glittering jewels.

A white rose adorned her hair instead of an ornament, and aside from the white gemstone earrings she’d likely inherited from her mother, her look was as modest as could be.

As he watched her, he felt a strange flutter in his chest. He was sure, however, that she had only annoyed him.

‘If she needed help, she should have asked.’

Who shows up at the second most important event in life — after marriage — dressed like that?

Her brother’s best friend was a Duke’s heir. They’d known each other for years – why couldn’t she have asked him for support just this once?

Yet amid a sea of girls dressed like white peacocks, it was her quiet presence that captured the most attention.

He really didn’t want to admit it, but—

She was beautiful. That much was true. But that didn’t mean other guys had any right to talk about her like that, chuckling like fools.

“Maybe I’ll take a shot. She looked kind of naïve, didn’t she?”

Clack!

The sharp sound of glass hitting the console table cut through the room, instantly silencing everyone.

Everyone turned their heads towards the source of the noise. Kenneth had put down his glass with a heavy thud and turned his back on the group.

Their casual chatter and judgements stopped immediately, but as soon as the young Lord Clifford walked away, one of them hurried after him.

“Kenneth? Where are you going?”

“To the ballroom.”

“The ballroom? You? Are you going to dance?”

The man trailing behind him looked utterly stunned — and with good reason: Kenneth loathed being the centre of attention and only danced when pushed to the absolute limit.

In fact, the only person in the entire Empire with enough influence to push him that far was the Duchess herself.

In practical terms, therefore, there wasn’t a single person alive who could make Kenneth Clifford do something he didn’t want to do.

He gave a nonchalant shrug and didn’t respond. Instead, his teal eyes scanned the ballroom, searching for a girl with ash-blonde hair who should have been somewhere among the crowd.

‘Where did she go?’
It was customary for the debutante ladies to spend the night dancing. But no matter how thoroughly he searched the hall, Ariana was nowhere to be found.

Her mother, Josephina, could be seen chatting animatedly with others, yet her daughter was conspicuously absent.
‘Did she step out for air?’

Just outside Swan Hall, where the evening ball was taking place, the Imperial Palace grounds boasted a tranquil garden where guests could relax and cool down.

Assuming that Ariana might be out there with Quentin, Kenneth headed in that direction.

Unlike the brilliantly lit hall, which was bathed in soft yellow light, the garden lay in gentle darkness at this hour, with only a few scattered blue lamps casting a dim glow.

It was early summer, widely considered to be the Empire’s finest season, and the evening air was fresh and clean. The air was filled with the subtle scents of honey and vanilla, probably from the nearby blooming honeysuckle.

As he followed the soft sounds of conversation through the trees and flowering bushes, Kenneth found his mood oddly pleasant.

If he could just find Ariana and Quentin, perhaps the three of them could chat for a while.

Then, when he came upon a thick honeysuckle hedge adorned with white and crimson blossom, he knew he had found the right place.

Beyond the foliage, a faint ash-blonde crown of hair caught his eye.

“Ariana!”

But he stopped himself before calling out.

She was already talking to another man.

“That worthless, brown-haired brat…”

Kenneth’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t bother to remember everyone’s name, but he kept track of most of the prominent figures in the capital.

If memory served him correctly, this one came from a minor viscount family that owned a few small businesses and walked around acting important.

It was painfully obvious that he had come to the debutante ball in search of a wife.

“You looked the most beautiful tonight. Didn’t you hear? Everyone said you stood out.”

“Ah, I see. Thank you.”

“What amazed me even more is how lovely you looked dressed like that. These days, women dress in gaudy extravagance, and half of them aren’t even pretty.”

“…”

“But you… you were different.”

Kenneth smothered a hollow chuckle.
Poor Ariana.
Imagine having to tolerate “praise” like that on the very first night of one’s social debut.

‘Maybe I’ll tease her about it later.’
Even after all this time, they had never grown close. Whenever he said hello, Ariana would drop her gaze as though she had seen something terrible and hurry away.

‘Did she really dislike me that much?’

The thought filled him with a faint, irrational irritation.

Absurd. So what if Ariana disliked him? Even a young duke knew that not everyone could possibly adore him.

‘Never mind — just a little teasing, then.’

Since she would never smile at him, watching her cheeks turn red might be satisfying enough.

First, however, he needed to put an end to that ridiculous conversation.

Yet…

***

“Anyway, how about it? Want to go out with me?”
“P-pardon?”
“Pardon?”
“I like you, that’s why you came out here, right?”
“N-no, I only stepped outside because you said you knew my brother—”
“Don’t be shy. These days we take the initiative ourselves and ask our parents’ permission afterward.”
“B-but this is the first time we’ve met—”
“I don’t care to waste time on all that courting nonsense. Women who do are vain. You aren’t vain, are you? You seem like a good girl.”

He lacked charm and confidence, yet he could talk endlessly about how desperate he was. That, at least, took talent.

Acrid disgust welled up from the base of Kenneth’s throat. Without bothering to restrain it, he stepped out from behind the hedge.

“Ariana.”

“…!”

At the sound of his voice, the girl—hunched in on herself—whipped around. Even in the violet-tinted dusk her blue eyes shone bright.

For a moment, a flicker of relief appeared in her wide eyes, but this was swiftly replaced by embarrassment. Her face turned red as she stared at the ground.

Was she embarrassed because he had appeared? Meanwhile, the shameless suitor greeted Kenneth with gaudy enthusiasm.

“Young Lord Clifford! What a pleasure to see you again after so long!”

Kenneth’s eyes narrowed.

“And you are?”

“Pardon?”

He fixed the man with a cold stare, assessing the pest who had latched onto Ariana. The man’s face was so ordinary and homely that it was painful to behold, but Kenneth doubted he would need to remember it for long.

A convenient and deeply unfortunate ‘business mishap’ would ensure that he couldn’t show his face in the capital for a very long time.

Leaving the flustered fool to wilt under that frost, Kenneth extended a hand towards Ariana.

“Your mother and Quentin are looking for you. Come.”

She hesitated, but he took her outstretched hand and strode off in the direction from which he had come. Night insects sang in the dark corners of the garden while Ariana followed behind, holding her breath.

“Thank you for helping me. You can let go now, Kenneth.”

“Let go? Hardly.”

He tightened his grip when she tried to wriggle free. The fact that she was already trying to escape only made him more annoyed.

‘That fool isn’t following us because he thinks I’m your escort. You wouldn’t have been able to deal with him alone.”

He said, continuing to march on without slowing down.