Chapter 3

At twenty, in the spring when she could no longer postpone her debut in society, Rosalie boarded a carriage bound for the capital to make her debutante appearance.

“We have grown old and frail. Our final wish before we close our eyes is to see you meet a good person and build a family of your own.”

The last wish of her grandparents, whose health worsened by the day and who might pass away at any moment, weighed heavily on her heart.

She had delayed her society debut again and again because she did not want to leave the side of the family she loved. If their days were numbered, she wished to spend every day, every hour with them.

But if Count Kinson passed away, Rosalie, who would need a guardian, would have to go to the Cailon viscountcy. Ever since her father’s cousin became the viscount after her father’s death, the Cailon family’s reputation had plunged. Rumors in society were no better.

Count Kinson and his wife had no desire to entrust Rosalie’s future to such a man. While they still lived, they wanted to connect her with a worthy person. Knowing their feelings, Rosalie could do nothing but nod.

As she gazed at the blue sky unfolding outside the window, Rosalie tried to summon the faint memories she still had of the capital. Only memories spent with her family surfaced, and the faces she longed for rose like smoke.

She was now a proper young lady, yet in her mind her family’s faces remained exactly as they had been ten years earlier.

The man who had frozen their time—Kenneth Vinzetten. A man she never wished to encounter again as long as she lived.

‘What face would you make when you met me again, the girl you thought you had killed? Would you fear the truth being revealed, or would you smile shamelessly as you did then? When she thought of him, a throbbing pain shot through her head and Rosalie had to close her eyes.’

After days of travel, Rosalie reached the capital, Levin City, and without time to acclimate, she was whisked away by Countess Kinson to the Breven dress shop.

The dress shop bustled with nobles fitting debutante gowns for the coming social season.

Mothers were desperate to choose the fabrics that would make their daughters stand out the most, occasionally adding earnest reminders.

“Remember this, Chloe. By the end of the season you must become the mistress of the Vinzetten duchy.”

“But the new Duke Vinzetten lost his father only recently—will he really look for a bride this season?”

“Of course he will. In hard times like these, one needs someone who can be a haven for the heart.”

“But the Duke already has someone…”

As she waited her turn, Rosalie’s expression gradually hardened as she stared out the window.

‘So I hear his name the moment I set foot in the capital.’

It was a name she would rather not hear, yet news of Kenneth reached her constantly, whether she wanted it or not.

The nobles gossiped endlessly about the new Duke of Vinzetten. The papers delivered to the townhouse were no better.

Because of it, Rosalie spent most of her time inside the house until the full social season began.

Only her room offered a true escape from him.

“I wish the season would just end already… I want to go back to the estate.”

Then, suddenly remembering the real reason she came to the capital, Rosalie flinched. Her thoughts of Kenneth had completely buried her original purpose.

Trying to calm her racing heart, she closed her eyes and buried her face in her knees.

“If nothing unexpected happens, I’ll be married this year. That means I won’t be able to return to Count Kinson’s estate for a while.”

The thought that she wouldn’t be able to spend time with her grandparents anymore left an aching void in her chest.

But regardless of how she felt, the day of the debutante ceremony inevitably arrived.

Outside the nobles’ townhouses, carriages filled the street more than usual, making for a chaotic scene.

Inside the mansion, it was no different from a battlefield as the household scrambled to prepare.

It was the day debutante ladies of the year would pay their respects to the Emperor and Empress—naturally, the entire capital was abuzz.

Count Kinson’s house was no exception. The townhouse doors opened amid the chaos, and Rosalie stepped out, dressed in a pure white debutante gown.

Her fingers tightened around the hem of her long dress. When she turned back, she saw the Count and Countess of Kinson smiling warmly and waving.

It was only the beginning, but Rosalie felt as though she were leaving this house forever—her steps were heavy, and it was hard to move.

“Rosalie, come along.”

Baroness Whitman, already waiting by the carriage, called out to her. She was the eldest daughter of the Kinsons and had gladly agreed to act as Rosalie’s chaperone at their request, since their health kept them from attending.

“Have a good time.”

Rosalie etched her grandmother’s face deep into her mind as she said goodbye.

“Yes, Grandma. I’ll be back.”

Taking a deep breath, Rosalie managed a gentle smile. Then, taking the hand of the waiting escort, she stepped into the carriage bound for the imperial palace.

The tense breaths and excited giggles of noble young ladies filled the space in front of the audience chamber. The ladies bombarded their accompanying chaperones with questions, asking if their hair was in place or if anything looked off.

Baroness Whitman, like the other noblewomen, adjusted Rosalie’s hair accessory with care.

Rosalie maintained a straight posture as she stared out the window. Following her gaze, Baroness Whitman turned her head. It seemed Rosalie was more intrigued by the imperial garden than her own debutante presentation.

Letting out a small sigh, Baroness Whitman suddenly felt a piercing stare and turned her head. A noblewoman who had been glancing at Rosalie awkwardly smiled as their eyes met. Despite her flustered expression, her gaze remained fixed on Rosalie.

She wasn’t the only one sneaking glances. Even just standing still, Rosalie drew all attention—though she herself appeared oblivious to the stares.

Watching her, Baroness Whitman thought perhaps it was only natural for this girl to attract all eyes.

From the time she herself had stood before these doors as a young girl, through raising her own daughter for marriage, never had she seen a lady this beautiful—except for her own sister, Elicia.

“Elicia.”

As she adjusted the dress, the name of her long-missed sister slipped from Baroness Whitman’s lips. At that, Rosalie, who had been gazing elsewhere, turned her eyes toward her aunt as if drawn by a spell.

“Rosalie, seeing you is like seeing my sister standing before me. That red hair, those forest-colored eyes—you’re the spitting image of your mother.”

A faint shimmer of moisture appeared in Rosalie’s dull eyes, dry like winter grass withered in a cold field.

“My sister Elicia met your father at her first ball. Unlike most nobles who marry for gain, their union was the result of true love.”

After a long wait, the noble young ladies’ names were called one by one. They disappeared inside, until Rosalie was left alone in the corridor.

Baroness Whitman led her closer to the audience chamber doors.

“I hope you, too, find true love like my sister did, Rosalie. Gaining a new family is a beautiful thing. It gives you strength to live. So take a bit of interest—perhaps there’s something beyond that door even more beautiful than the imperial garden.”

At the moment Baroness Whitman gently nudged Rosalie’s back, the doors opened. The audience chamber, packed so tightly there was hardly space to step, fell into silence.

Overwhelmed by the countless gazes pouring onto her, Rosalie’s breath hitched for a moment.

This was what it meant to debut into high society—enduring all the stares and attention.

Letting out the breath she had held, Rosalie stepped forward. The noblewomen slowly opened their fans and subtly covered their mouths.

“When you say Cailon, you mean that family, don’t you?”

“They used to be the envy of all. There wasn’t a family more harmonious than theirs. But now… I don’t even want to speak of the current Cailon viscountcy.”

“That carriage accident was truly horrific…”

“They were just unlucky, that’s all.”

The tragedy that befell Viscount Cailon and his family was officially recorded as a carriage accident. The temple had insisted on keeping quiet about the attack by a monster, fearing the chaos such news could bring to the Empire.

Rosalie ignored the murmurs and straightened her posture even more as she walked forward.

With every step she took, people’s gazes clung to her like molasses.

“Why would the Kinson count keep such a stunning girl hidden all this time?”

“There must be something wrong with her. Why else would she debut in society so late? Isn’t it strange she was the only one to survive that gruesome accident completely unscathed?”

Enduring unwelcome gossip like this had become a daily trial ever since she entered the Imperial Palace. It was simply part of life now—something to withstand every moment, every day.

Stopping before the Emperor and Empress, Rosalie concluded her elegant bow with flawless poise.

Unlike other young ladies who, from nerves, stumbled or dropped their headpieces while bowing, Rosalie made no such mistakes. Her demeanor was impeccable.

It was the first time Prince Raymond, who had watched the presentation ceremony with a bored expression all along, suddenly sprang to his feet.

The noblewoman who had been whispering rumors about Rosalie had to fan herself furiously to cool her burning face, especially after seeing her own daughter standing frozen with a dazed expression.

In that moment, the crown of this year’s social season was claimed—

Rosalie Cailon was its undisputed flower.