The first thing to hit her senses was the rich scent of roses. Then, a vivid pink dress swept into view, bright and elegant, clearly an expensive outfit in the latest fashion.

The dress alone revealed the newcomer’s status. To wear something so trendy meant she had the wealth to discard it once it went out of style—a luxury Hailey couldn’t even dream of, as she preferred dresses in timeless designs for their practicality.

Her hair was styled in an elaborate updo, adorned with sparkling jewels and flowers. The blue gemstones glinting from her ears and neck were likely sapphires.

Hmm?

Hailey’s gaze shifted from the woman’s attire to her face, and her eyes widened.

“!”

She was stunning. Stunning wasn’t even enough to describe her beauty.

Her flawless porcelain skin, eyes as blue as a tranquil lake, long lashes, rosy cheeks, and lips exuding both elegance and strength—it was impossible to look away.

Even as another woman, Hailey found herself captivated, not envious. She exhaled a breath of awe. If Hailey reacted this way, how much more mesmerized would men be?

She looked familiar.

Hailey blinked slowly, scrutinizing the woman’s face intently.

With features this striking, surely she wouldn’t forget if they had met before. Where had she seen her?

While Hailey racked her brain, the elegant woman glided to the center of the study, her shadowed attendant trailing closely behind.

Huh?

Hailey’s gaze turned puzzled again. For a noblewoman, it was customary to conceal one’s emotions behind a composed façade.

Yet, beneath the woman’s poised exterior, a storm of fury brewed, clear as day. She was like a shattered piece of glass, her edges sharp with anger.

No, on second thought, it wasn’t anger—it was closer to loathing. Her refined eyes held a fleeting gleam of contempt as they fixated on the Duke’s mask.

At that moment, the Duke rose slowly from his seat. His voice softened, and his ever-tilted lips eased into a gentle curve.

“Princess Irene, what brings you here unannounced?”

Ah!

At last, Hailey remembered where she had seen her. The newspaper. The illustration from a paper she had browsed not long ago.

At the time, she had thought the artist exaggerated the princess’s beauty to curry favor with the royal family, but now she realized the illustration hadn’t done her justice.

She was Irene, the Princess of Aislin—and the fiancée of Duke Gunner.

“…….”

In an instant, the dynamic between her and Hailey shifted.

Now unintentionally relegated to the role of an uninvited third wheel between the two, Hailey fidgeted nervously, glancing at the pair. She wanted to leave but couldn’t find the right moment to excuse herself.

Irene, glaring at the Duke, seemed utterly oblivious to Hailey’s presence in the room, while Tayton, entirely fixated on his fiancée, appeared to have no regard for her either.

Perhaps that was for the best.

Just as Hailey quietly closed the book and began to rise from her seat—

“Sending a bouquet to Andrei Lermont? What a disgraceful act that was.”

Irene’s voice was as cold as a biting midwinter wind. Instinctively, Hailey flinched, her shoulders trembling, and it took her a moment to process what she had heard.

Andrei Lermont—the musician from Santis, the one who was currently heralded as the most charming man in the capital. The memory of an article flashed in Hailey’s mind, recounting how the princess had attended his concert and met him backstage.

Her gaze cautiously slid over to the Duke. Sending a bouquet to Andrei—what could that mean? A warning for him to keep his distance from his fiancée? Or jealousy over another man?

Jealousy? Hardly. Knowing his personality, it had to be a warning.

The Duke responded to Irene’s indignant questioning with a casual shrug, as if baffled as to why she was upset.

“I merely intended to express gratitude as your betrothed since Princess Irene seemed to appreciate the man’s performance.”

Betrothed.

At that word, Irene’s face hardened further, becoming even colder. Her lips pressed tightly together, as though enduring some unbearable humiliation.

But Hailey didn’t miss the slight trembling of her shoulders. Irene was clearly suppressing the urge to storm out of the room.

“…”

At that moment, Hailey realized she had been caught in an uncomfortable situation. She felt as though she were witnessing something she wasn’t meant to see.

Irene took a shallow breath before speaking again, her voice emerging sharp and cutting like the thorns of a rose from between her crimson lips.

“I hadn’t realized Lord Gunner was so interested in my personal affairs.”

“My attention is always on Princess Irene. Isn’t this a matter concerning my betrothed?”

“Betrothed, yes. Just that—a betrothed.”

Irene’s expression twisted in disgust as though she had bitten into something rotten.

The political marriage with Duke Gunner, the most powerful family in Aislin, was a deal that promised more gain than loss. Yet the fact that the engagement had been decided without any regard for her wishes deeply wounded Irene’s pride.

She was no longer the princess of Aislin—merely the fiancée of the cursed Duke.

Even so, she couldn’t simply break off the engagement. To humiliate someone with Gunner’s wealth and power, equivalent to that of the royal family, would be tantamount to declaring all-out war.

Moreover, Duke Gunner had done nothing to give her cause for annulment. He wasn’t embroiled in scandals with other women, nor did he display any disrespect toward her.

He fulfilled his role as a fiancée impeccably, leaving Irene no grounds for severing their ties.

What a cunning man.

Irene thought that it wouldn’t be long before she became the wife of the cursed Duke. She felt like a butterfly trapped in a spider’s web—the more she struggled, the more inescapable her fate became.

But not yet.

Her eyes, glinting with icy determination, bore into the Duke as she clenched her fists and spoke in a biting tone.

“I’d appreciate it if you refrained from acting as though we are already married, Lord Gunner. Until the vows of eternity are sworn before the clergy, nothing is certain.”

It was an insult, and a considerable one at that.

Hailey anxiously watched the two, dreading the Duke’s reaction. Surely he would retaliate with a cutting remark, lashing out at Irene with the same sharp tongue he often used with her.

But then, Tayton slowly nodded his head.

“I shall keep that in mind, Princess Irene.”

“!”

Hailey quietly swallowed in surprise. She had expected the Duke to unleash his usual scathing words, something so cruel it would leave a lasting sting. Instead, the arrogant Duke nodded meekly, like a chastised child.

Eyes wide with disbelief, Hailey gawked as Irene, her head held high, issued a final, imperious command.

“Address me as Princess Britton, Lord Gunner. Are we close enough for you to call me by name?”

“I shall heed that as well, Princess Britton.”

Hailey’s jaw dropped. The Duke, enduring such humiliation without complaint, was a shocking sight.

He had called her a freeloader and hurled unkind words at her without hesitation, yet here he was, treating his fiancée with kid gloves. Was he being partial?

“Do not ever act disrespectfully toward Andrei Lermont again. That will be all.”

With her business concluded, Irene turned away as though she couldn’t bear to spend another moment in his presence.

Tayton reached for the cane resting beside his desk, preparing to see her off.

Thud. Thud.

His steps were slow and uneven. Irene, hearing the sound, froze mid-step and turned, her expression curling in revulsion as if she had seen something filthy.

Hailey frowned. Irene’s gaze brimmed with disdain so intense it was nearly unbearable to witness.

Hailey couldn’t help but think Irene would have shown more mercy even to a beggar on the streets.

Irene’s emerald eyes, once turbulent with emotion, now darkened like a shadowy abyss.

“There’s no need to see me off, Lord Gunner. If I were to wait for you to escort me, I might not return to the palace before nightfall.”

“Then I shall bid you farewell here. Safe travels, Princess Britton.”

Irene hastened her steps without responding. The hem of her dress brushed along the floor, and her maid hurriedly followed after her.

Bang! The door slammed shut behind her—a departure as tempestuous as her entrance.

“……”

“……”

An awkward silence settled in the study, unintentional yet suffocating. Hailey, who was left standing stiffly, locked eyes with Tayton as he slowly turned around.

“Ah.”

Hailey inadvertently let out a flustered sound. Tayton averted his gaze indifferently, limping back to his desk, and reached for the documents resting atop it.