“Don’t worry. We’ll get married and live happily ever after. And of course, Isabelle—you won’t be falling into h*ll.”

Only then did Isabelle understand where Tenetta’s confidence came from.

‘He already knew.’

He had known all along—that she, and her family, were innocent.

Realizing that he had merely cornered her for a moment, like a cat toying with a mouse, Isabelle’s eyes widened.

“Knowing that… how could you say something like this…?”

“It’s only my belief. There’s no way to prove it.”

Then the man slowly swept his gaze over Isabelle from head to toe.

The assessing look made her shrink back, a flush of embarrassment rising as she drew her shoulders in.

At her reaction, something faint flickered across his sculpted face.

“It seems you’ll need some time to think. I’ll leave you to it.”

With those words, he turned his back.

Only after hearing the heavy doors close did Isabelle lift her head.

The dark banquet hall was left with only the lantern he had set behind, its small flame flickering softly.

—

The door of the abandoned hall opened again just as Isabelle began to shiver from the cold.

“The commander has ordered that I escort you back to your room.”

The knight who opened the heavy doors extended a hand toward her.

It was Aaron Searton—Tenetta’s adjutant.

He didn’t recognize Isabelle, but she remembered him from her previous life. They had spoken a few times back then.

The third son of a distinguished family in the capital, Aaron had joined a campaign years ago and remained with the holy knights, becoming part of the Dusk Order.

Despite having spent so long on the battlefield, his temperament was calm and restrained.

Even Tenetta—who had never been fond of his wife spending time with knights—had let it pass when it was Aaron.

“They call him the young master.”

Tenetta had once said that about Aaron.

“When he talks back, he can be surprisingly stubborn. He picks apart everything, one by one, according to the rules.”

At the time, Isabelle had been leaning against her husband, who sat at the edge of the bed.

After tucking her loosened hair behind her ear, Tenetta’s hand lingered—tracing lightly along her ear, her cheek—before he pulled her into his arms.

His large, warm hand brushed slowly down her arm.

Isabelle had felt a soft kiss fall against her head, and she closed her eyes.

As if to lull her to sleep, Tenetta adjusted his hold and began gently patting her back.

“Still, he’s respectful and obedient toward young ladies and noblewomen. If you find yourself in trouble while I’m away, ask him for help.”

Even so, Aaron followed Tenetta’s orders without question. Otherwise, with his temperament, Tenetta would never have trusted him with something as important as his wife.

As she thought about it, Isabelle suddenly felt a flicker of doubt.

‘That temperament? What does that even mean?’
‘Do I really know what kind of person Tenetta is?’

In her previous life, he had stormed into her wedding—and tried to kill her.

Come to think of it, during her wedding with Chester, the Dusk Order—including Aaron—hadn’t been there.

Following Aaron up the castle stairs, Isabelle frowned.

‘Why did Tenetta bring the family’s knights instead?’

If the Line family had truly been heretical, as they were now, the holy knights would have been far more appropriate…

…Ah.

‘He destroyed the entire cathedral.’

No matter how much more lenient Dusk was compared to Dawn, they were still holy knights. They wouldn’t carry out something like that without hesitation.

“Please rest.”

After escorting her to her room, Aaron withdrew.

Fortunately, there were no signs that the room had been searched.

The fireplace had long gone cold, but she didn’t even have the strength to light it.

As the tension drained from her body, Isabelle staggered to the bed and collapsed onto it.

Wrapping herself in the cool, rustling silk sheets, she closed her eyes.

The day she had first met Tenetta flickered vividly beneath her eyelids.

***

Back then, the capital was abuzz with the grand Spring Festival.

Intended to dispel the lingering sadness caused by the epidemic that had hit the city the previous autumn and to showcase the strength of the imperial family, it was a celebration that took over the entire city.

The entire family received an invitation, except Raymond, who was studying abroad.

But Isabelle had never enjoyed such gatherings.

Those her own age moved in familiar circles, while her parents were busy greeting relatives and acquaintances they hadn’t seen in years.

To make matters worse, men kept approaching her, one after another, asking her to dance, and she didn’t recognize any of them.

Feeling flustered from repeatedly refusing them, Isabelle slipped away to the quietest corner she could find.

That was when she noticed that everyone’s attention was fixed in the same direction.

“The new Grand Duke is here as well?”

Drawn by the quiet murmurs, Isabelle turned her gaze in the same direction. For the first time in her life, she found herself captivated by someone’s appearance.

He was a young man of striking height.

Though the men around him were by no means short, he overshadowed them all with his presence alone.

She could see only his profile, yet that was more than enough — he was undeniably beautiful.

His features were sharp and clearly defined.

His silver hair was swept back to reveal his strong brow, catching the light and shimmering as it did so.

Above all his physique was unlike any nobleman Isabelle had ever seen.

His broad shoulders suggested a knight seasoned by the battlefield.

His thick arms and firm chest exuded a raw, untamed strength that could not be concealed by his elegant formal attire.

Though his movements were calm and refined, it was that very strength which drew the eye.

Even the slightest motion or shift of his hand made his muscles tense, giving off an almost dangerous energy.

‘Someone that large… might be frightening up close, she thought—and yet, she couldn’t look away.

The people around her whispered quietly among themselves.

“He must be in a hurry to marry. Do you think he’s here to find a bride?”

By then, Isabelle had gathered from their conversation that he had recently inherited his title and was still unmarried.

It wasn’t difficult to understand the position he was in.

In the Empire, the law of succession was clear: if an unmarried noble inherited a title, they were expected to marry within a year.

Failure to do so would be seen as a refusal to fulfil their duty to continue the family line, resulting in the revocation of their title.

“Maybe he doesn’t even care to keep the title. A man like him must already have more than enough honor and power.”

“Perhaps… but it’s still a shame. The Achilleton family is so old—if the line ends here…”

At that moment, the man known as the Grand Duke turned in her direction.

Startled, Isabelle quickly lowered her gaze, pretending that she hadn’t been looking at him.

She was struck by the realization that she had been studying a man she had never even spoken to.

Even when visiting the finest jewelers in the capital, she had never examined anything with such careful attention.

Her cheeks flushed.

She couldn’t believe the pull she had felt simply from looking at his face and body.

She was nineteen and had been raised on refined poetry, novels and philosophy, which had taught her that love should originate in the mind.

The idea of her heart racing over nothing more than a man’s appearance — a man she had never even greeted — was something she had never imagined.

‘Someone like him belongs to a different world.’

Trying to calm her racing heart, she pushed the thought away as if dousing it with cold water.

After that, she made a point of avoiding the Grand Duke entirely.

She was afraid that if their eyes met, he might notice the faint spark stirring within her.

Yet she continued to turn down dance invitation after dance invitation.

Before long, another man approached her.

By then, Isabelle was so worn down that she began to wonder if this was simply how things were done in the capital, and if she was the only one who couldn’t keep up.

For the first time, she considered accepting.

That was when a shadow fell over her.

“Lady Attley, don’t we already have an engagement?”

The voice was low, smooth and confident. Although it belonged to a stranger, it spoke her name with such effortless familiarity that she looked up.

Isabelle looked up.

At first, all she could see was the sharp line of his jaw.

Then, little by little, the rest came into focus: the strong tendons of his neck beneath a pristine white collar, and his broad shoulders and solid chest, which not even fine clothing could hide.

It was him: The Grand Duke she had been unable to look away from was now standing beside her.

Her lips parted slightly.

The man who had been about to take her hand pulled it back at once — he was just as startled as she was.

“You’re… with His Highness? I didn’t realize—”

“I suppose you do now.”

Although he spoke formally, there was a faint, unmistakable chill to his words.

The man bowed politely and took a step back.

His flushed cheeks revealed his embarrassment, though he showed no sign of resentment.

Once he had moved away, the Grand Duke turned fully towards Isabelle.

The moment their eyes met, she forgot entirely that she had once found him intimidating because of his size.

All she could see were his deep, refined eyes; the sharp bridge of his nose; and the clean, sculpted line of his jaw.

The corners of his lips lifted, forming a small dimple on one cheek, like the faint mark of a fingernail.

Only then did Isabelle realize that she had been staring at him, completely captivated.

Startled, she quickly lowered her gaze and gripped her fan tightly.

Whenever she felt unsettled, she had a habit of fidgeting with her hands — a small, unconscious attempt to hide her feelings.

“I… I think you’ve mistaken me for someone else.”

“If that were the case, I would have called you by a different name.”

It was a reasonable answer, and yet it only deepened her confusion.

‘How does he know my name?’

This was the first time she had seen him.

It didn’t seem likely that he knew her parents, either.

While the Achilleton family owned vast territories in the capital and the provinces, the Attley family were just a typical provincial noble house.

However, her question was answered quickly.