Chapter 12

“It must feel sudden, I’m sure. I understand. I’ll give you time to prepare yourself. There’s no better prospective groom in the Empire than the Duke of Vinzetten, so do try to think of it positively.”

Clutching the betrothal document lest anyone snatch it away, Norman tucked it carefully back into his coat and strode out of the drawing room.

A dry swallow scraped Rosalie’s throat; when she bit her lower lip, the sharp taste of blood spread across her tongue.

***

The day of Celetina’s garden party arrived.

Carriages lined the drive before the Bellure marquess’s mansion. Though garden parties were usually intimate affairs, Celetina’s gathering rivaled a full-scale ball—only without the dancing. Most guests saw it as proof of Celetina’s sway over society; a few dismissed it as mere ostentation.

Celetina cared little how they judged it. After all, they weren’t wrong.

Ever since the gossip sheet had compared her to Rosalie, Celetina had determined to show high society the stark difference between them. By doing so, she intended to erase Rosalie’s name—presumptuously set beside her own—from every conversation.

Each time guests streamed into the garden, Celetina greeted them with a dazzling smile. Her warm gaze cooled the instant Rosalie stepped through the gates.

Rosalie, looking around at the crowd, flinched as though overwhelmed, then spotted Celetina and hurried toward her.

Celetina did not move an inch. She merely lifted her chin and straightened her back so that the petite young woman would have to look up to her—like an empress receiving an unremarkable courtier.

Rosalie offered a perfectly executed curtsy. The flawless courtesy only stoked Celetina’s irritation.

“Good afternoon, Lady Bellure.”

“You came after all, Lady Cailon.”

Masking her displeasure, Celetina opened her arms and drew Rosalie into a light embrace.

As Celetina had never greeted anyone so warmly before, onlookers assumed she was genuinely delighted by Rosalie’s presence.

“I was so worried you might not come, Lady Cailon. I’ve always wanted to grow closer to you, but the opportunity never quite came. I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Thank you for inviting me. The garden is absolutely beautiful.”

“I’m relieved it’s to your liking. I hope you enjoy yourself to the fullest today.”

Startled by the sudden embrace, Rosalie had initially eyed her with wary caution, but soon let down her guard and smiled gently, her eyes crinkling. For a moment, her cheeks even seemed to flush with color. The smile was so radiant, it could only be described as beautiful.

Celetina had to fight hard to keep the corners of her lifted lips from falling.

***

When she first received Celetina’s invitation, Rosalie had been torn about whether to attend.

She had learned—one after another—about things she didn’t want to believe: the lost memories, the arranged marriage. It had left her so disoriented, she hadn’t thought she could possibly attend a party and smile.

Moreover, her name had been dragged into gossip columns alongside Celetina’s, drawing unwanted comparisons. Even if Rosalie hadn’t done anything herself, she was sure Celetina couldn’t possibly see her in a favorable light.

But, contrary to her fears, Celetina had greeted her without a hint of reservation. That gave Rosalie hope that maybe she could enjoy the party without worry.

“Lady Cailon!”

At the sound of her name, Rosalie looked up from the fragrant flowers. Celetina was seated at a round table, and beside her sat none other than the man who had caused Rosalie so much distress—Kenneth.

When Rosalie greeted Celetina with a small nod, the latter waved her over.

“Come, have a seat.”

Unable to turn down the show of friendliness, Rosalie took the empty chair.

“The Duke of Vinzetten also accepted my invitation,”

Celetina said, deliberately drawing attention to Kenneth’s presence.

Rosalie found the situation deeply uncomfortable, but she hid it well and offered a polite greeting, just as she would to anyone else.

“Good afternoon, Your Grace.”

“It’s been a while.”

Kenneth had responded to Rosalie, even though he had only nodded in acknowledgment to Celetina. That realization made Celetina’s hand tremble ever so slightly as she lifted her teacup.

Rosalie recalled the time at Victoria Park:

Kenneth reaching out to help her into the boat, the unwavering intensity of his gaze as they drifted across the lake, and the way his firm arms had wrapped around her when she fell—how solid they’d felt, how close.

All of it played before her eyes once more.

When Celetina set her cup down, she asked calmly,

“Come to think of it, I heard you two took a boat ride together at Victoria Park. How was it?”

“I quite enjoyed it. Though I’m not sure if Lady Cailon felt the same,” Kenneth replied.

Seeing Kenneth and Rosalie’s eyes meet, Celetina clenched her hands under the table.

She had squeezed so hard her nails left deep marks in her palms.

The thought that Rosalie Cailon might have won Kenneth’s heart—something she herself couldn’t achieve despite all her efforts—made Celetina’s pride crumple.

It didn’t matter if Kenneth loved another. After all, the one who would become Duchess of Vinzetten was her. Celetina swore she would never let that position slip away.

“We ended up soaked—it was quite the unique experience,” Kenneth added.

Another young lady clapped her hands and said,

“I saw the two of you then. If it hadn’t been for the Duke, Lady Cailon might’ve fallen into the water. It was really dangerous. I’m glad you weren’t hurt.”

“Next time, you should be more careful, Lady Cailon,” Celetina said, looking directly at her.

There was a slight sharpness in her tone that caught Rosalie off guard, but when Celetina smiled again, Rosalie brushed it off as her imagination.

“Ah, Duke Vinzetten, my father said he hopes to see you sometime soon. He has something important to discuss.”

“Oh? Could it be…”

Celetina gently placed her hand over Kenneth’s where it rested on the table.

The young lady beside them thought the “important matter” must refer to an engagement, as the rumors had suggested. When she trailed off, flustered, Celetina simply smiled without denying it.

Rosalie looked at the two—Kenneth and Celetina—appearing so close and affectionate.

In time, they would likely hold an engagement ceremony, marry, and spend the rest of their lives together.

She, meanwhile, would be left unable to feel joy ever again.

And he—he would live happily, having forgotten everything.

Of course, she could try to live as if he didn’t exist.

But could she, who remembered everything so clearly, truly stand to watch Kenneth live a happy life?

No. Rosalie knew she could not.

Unless she too forgot that day entirely, like Kenneth had, she could never be at peace.

Suddenly, the arranged marriage document Norman Cailon had shown her came to mind.

Maybe—if she was fated to live unhappily for the rest of her life—she wanted to take all of Kenneth’s happiness too.

He didn’t deserve it.

In the end, she wanted to see him in despair.

To watch him suffer after losing something dear.

She wanted to see that face contorted in agony. She wanted to return the pain she had felt, exactly as it was.

Once she made up her mind, Rosalie finally found the courage to face Kenneth head-on.

When their eyes met, she offered him a dazzling smile—one meant for the man who would soon wallow in the same mire with her.

***

“I’m going to accept the arranged marriage with Duke Vinzetten.”

A warm laughter had been filling the parlor, but an unwelcome silence suddenly fell.

While Baroness Whitman and Countess Kinson exchanged anxious glances, Rosalie, who had just delivered her thunderous declaration, calmly sliced her cake with ease.

Countess Kinson recalled the day Norman Cailon had barged in. She couldn’t forget the expression on Rosalie’s face when Kenneth Vinzetten’s name had been mentioned.