Chapter 5

The moment Rosalie recognized the man before her, her body stiffened. A chill that began at her toes quickly surged up to the crown of her head, as though her entire body had been seized by it.

Where the duke’s hand touched her felt unbearably uncomfortable, like being pressed by a hard, rough stone—or worse, as if pierced by a blade.

Before she could even fully process her panic, the music went on. Kenneth’s steps lifted from the floor, and Rosalie followed where he led.

Unable to focus on the dance, she merely moved to keep up with Kenneth’s lead. It was far from graceful—it was closer to being dragged along than dancing in harmony.

Whether due to her discomfort or the utterly inconsiderate way the Duke of Vinzetten led her, Rosalie’s posture began to falter.

Kenneth pulled her toward him once more. With their noses nearly brushing, Rosalie inhaled sharply, her chest rising and falling with tension.

Her eyes, like a forest heavy with green, trembled with instability. She broke eye contact first, turning her head slightly. The dance with a temporary partner wouldn’t last long—she decided to focus solely on finishing without a misstep.

“My lady.”

A low voice brushed against her ear. Long fingers grazed Rosalie’s cheek.

With a light touch under her chin, her lowered head was gently lifted, and she was forced to meet Kenneth’s gaze once more.

“When dancing, it is polite to look at your partner.”

Rosalie couldn’t say a word. She couldn’t even offer the polite excuse of nervousness or respond with a smile. She simply kept her lips shut.

Kenneth made no further comment beyond her lack of eye contact.

Unlike Rosalie, Kenneth’s face showed no emotion at all. It was as if he were engaging with a stranger.

Though at first confused by his reaction, Rosalie quickly understood.

Kenneth had become a man since those days. Taller, broader, his features more sharply defined—but still unmistakably the same. Even after ten years, she had recognized him instantly.

In contrast, she had only been ten years old back then. It made sense—perhaps inevitable—that Kenneth wouldn’t recognize her. She had changed completely.

A sudden sense of injustice welled up inside her. As if she alone had suffered, as if she alone had carried the pain of the years past.

‘Was it truly nothing to you?’

“Do you not remember me?”

How could you not recognize me? How could you forget the girl you killed?

Rosalie barely swallowed the words threatening to escape, forcing herself to wait for Kenneth’s reply.

Kenneth’s gaze narrowed as he looked down at her.

Just then, the music shifted, and the large hand that had been firmly resting on her shoulder blade lifted. The change in melody signaled the end of the dance with a temporary partner. In the end, Rosalie received no answer.

Following the final step, led by Kenneth’s guiding hand, she turned once—and found Jaden back in his place.

“Of all things, why did this song have to play? I must have terrible luck.”

Jaden, casting a somewhat regretful look at Rosalie, noticed the faint line between her brows and asked with concern.

“Lady Cailon, are you feeling unwell?”

Realizing from his words that her expression had betrayed her, Rosalie quickly composed herself and offered a smile.

“No, just… I suppose I’m nervous. It’s my first ball, after all.”

“I see. That makes sense. I was the same at mine. I nearly tripped over a dress hem and fell flat on my face.”

Jaden steadied Rosalie with reassuring arms.

“Let me lead you. Try to relax.”

Following his voice, Rosalie released the tension that had gripped her body. Light as butterflies, the two began to dance again with ease.

“Seems like you’re more at ease now.”

“Thanks to you.”

As the orchestra reached its end, the pair faced each other and exchanged the final bow of their dance.

When Rosalie lifted her head, Jaden had taken a step closer.

“I forgot to introduce myself properly—Jaden Segrington.”

Rosalie nodded with a gentle smile. She already knew his name from the portrait booklet.

Besides, with such striking looks, he was hard to miss.

“Are you, by any chance… feeling thirsty?”

Following Jaden’s subtle glance, Rosalie saw a table laden with delicious desserts and cool drinks.

“A little, yes.”

“Allow me to escort you.”

Jaden offered his arm. After a brief hesitation, Rosalie gently linked hers with his.

Standing still like earlier would only bring back memories of that man—memories she didn’t want.

Right now, she needed something to keep those thoughts at bay.

***

As the night of the first ball of the social season reached its height, Rosalie slipped away to the balcony for a breath of fresh air and a moment of peace.

Leaning against the marble railing with her hands resting on the stone, Rosalie closed her eyes and savored the breeze brushing against her skin. The cool night air seemed to calm the chaos in her mind.

Suddenly, hurried footsteps echoed from below in the garden. Startled, she opened her eyes and caught sight of a man and woman slipping hand-in-hand into the deeper part of the grounds. The pair hid themselves beneath the pergola, exchanged soft laughter, glanced around cautiously—and then brought their lips together.

“Oh, my…”

Rosalie quickly backed away from the railing, covering her mouth in shock. She felt a wave of heat rush back into her cheeks as if she’d witnessed something forbidden.

A man and woman meeting secretly in a secluded spot without a chaperone was a recipe for scandal. Unless they were betrothed, such an act could be ruinous in high society. Not wanting to destroy the lives of two people she didn’t even know, Rosalie chose to pretend she hadn’t seen anything.

Tsssh.

Before she could settle her startled nerves, she heard a sound behind her. Whipping around, she found the Duke of Vinzetten leaning against the wall, a cigar between his lips. Wisps of pale smoke curled from his mouth, dissolving into the night air.

She had been sure the balcony was empty. When had he gotten there?

Rosalie stared at Kenneth with a look of alarm, as if she’d seen a ghost. Kenneth took another drag from his cigar and tapped off the ash as he spoke.

“There’s no need for such a startled expression. You walked into the place where I was standing. If anyone should be surprised, it’s me—don’t you think?”

Hearing that he had arrived first, Rosalie glanced between where he leaned against the wall and the entrance to the balcony. If he had remained there the entire time, he might have indeed been hidden from view when she entered.

Trying to calm her pounding heart, Rosalie bent her knees in a respectful curtsy and offered a formal apology.

“My apologies, Your Grace. I assumed the place was empty and intruded without meaning to.”

She turned to leave. She didn’t want to spend another second in the same space as him.

“Rosalie Cailon.”

Her eyes widened at the sound of her name leaving Kenneth’s lips. It told her one thing clearly—he knew exactly who she was.

“It seems the first gossip of this season belongs to you, my lady.”

“But that’s all it was. Even if he couldn’t remember her changed face, there was no way he wouldn’t know her name—yet he said nothing more.

“You truly don’t remember me even after hearing that name?”

“I don’t believe so. Am I supposed to? Or do you wish to drag me into your gossip, my lady? If so, I must decline.”

Kenneth spoke as if he had only come across the name by chance, as though it meant nothing.

Rosalie became certain that he did not recognize her. The eerie sensation that had wrapped around her vanished, replaced by rising defiance.

Just as her face flushed with anger, multiple footsteps and voices approached from beyond the wall.

Tense, Rosalie glanced between the lovers still hidden under the pergola and Kenneth. Though they had only exchanged a few words, others would not see it that way. The balcony was not out in the open but attached to an unused room—anyone who saw them now would surely misunderstand.

If what Kenneth said was true, then her name was already on everyone’s lips.

She had no intention of throwing another piece of gossip into the flames—especially if it involved Kenneth.

As she prayed silently that the voices would simply pass by, Kenneth suddenly grabbed her wrist and pulled her toward him.

Before she could resist, she was drawn helplessly into his arms. A wave of warmth pressed against her back, and at that exact moment, the door opened and the men’s voices spilled into the room.

With nothing else to do but hold her breath in Kenneth’s arms, a low voice—damp and heavy—tickled her ear.

“It seems to others, you and I now look no different from them.”