Audrey gasped, startled, but did not push her daughter away. She simply blinked in surprise and turned to her husband for an explanation.

“Come along, my lady,” Natalie interjected, gently prying Rosé away. Only then did Rosé let herself be led out of the room.

The count and countess watched their daughter being ushered away and exchanged amused smiles, shaking their heads.

Once Rosé had left, they resumed their previous conversation. Their hushed voices still reached Rosé’s ears as she walked away.

“Who would have thought the Marquess of Montenegro’s daughter would be chosen? Do you think it’s because of their defiance against the Imperial Family last time?”

“What a terrible fate. To have raised a daughter only to send her to such a place…”

“How devastated the Marchioness must be. They say that the young king is notorious.”

“I won’t believe the rumors until I see him for myself. However, it’s undeniable that the place is dangerous.

“Can’t you use your influence with the Imperial Court? The Marquess is pleading so desperately.”

Jared shook his head solemnly.

“I can speak to them, but even if it’s not the Marquess’s daughter, someone else must be chosen. What parent would willingly send their child there?”

“But you’ve seen the Marchioness lately, haven’t you? She’s half the woman she used to be. I feel so sorry for her that I can’t even find the words to comfort her.”

The House of Montenegro had never been close to the House of Etoile. But the Marquess was a man of integrity, and Jared had always held him in high regard.

Now, the thought of the man’s daughter being sent to the North under the guise of an alliance filled him with sorrow.

Especially since she was of a similar age to Rosé. How could he not understand the anguish of her parents?

“I only say this because it’s you, but I feel like a complete hypocrite.”

Jared’s voice was tinged with bitterness.

“A hypocrite?” Audrey asked, puzzled.

Jared exhaled deeply, running a weary hand over his face.

“Because, in truth… I’m relieved that the one being sent isn’t our Rosé.”

“Dear! How could you say such a thing?”

A chill ran down Audrey’s spine.

She knew it was true. If a noble daughter had to be sent to the North, it could have been Rosé.

Realizing this, Audrey fell silent.

She no longer spoke of the Marquess’s daughter.

Instead, she picked up her teacup, trying to erase the image of the heartbroken Marquess from her mind. But her hands trembled, causing the tea to ripple inside the cup.

Just the thought of Rosé being sent to the North made her dizzy with fear.

***

The dressmakers, Natalie, and the maids all looked back and forth between Rosé and the dress, anticipating her excited reaction.

At this moment, Lady Rosé should be smiling brightly, hugging the dress, and holding it up to herself… But?

Instead of delight, Rosé stared at the dress with an icy gaze.

She didn’t even step closer, as if it were something ominous, keeping her distance.

“I’ll show it to you.”

Feeling awkward, one of the dressmakers took the initiative and spread the dress open in front of her.

The soft violet-colored dress unfolded like waves.

Instead of extravagant frills or lace on the shoulders, tiny sparkling jewels were carefully embedded individually.

It was as beautiful as stardust gently falling across a lilac night sky.

But to her, it only brought back terrible memories.

If she really had returned to the past—

Then tomorrow, on her 20th birthday, she would wear this dress and meet Kasiax.

And he would propose to her once again.

Just imagining it sent chills down her spine, making her tremble.

‘Never. That can’t happen!’

***

Natalie knocked urgently on the door.

“My lady! Please open the door!”

Bang, bang!

“My lady! You haven’t had a single sip of water all day—you’ll collapse at this rate!”

From outside, Natalie called out desperately. Inside, Rosé responded toward the door.

“Please, just leave me alone, Natalie.”

“Are you feeling unwell? Should I call the physician?”

“No. No, it’s not that. I just need to be alone for a while.”

“Then I’ll leave this by the door. It’s bread and lamb soup—please, at least take a bite. Please.”

Natalie signaled to a maid to set the tray down at the door. But she herself couldn’t bring herself to leave, lingering anxiously outside.

‘What’s gotten into her today?’

From the moment she woke up, she had been acting strangely. Then, when the dress arrived, she hadn’t even touched it before running straight to her room. Since then, she had locked herself inside.

‘Maybe it’s because His Highness the Crown Prince is coming tomorrow? Is she nervous?’

Sighing, Natalie finally stepped away, still unsure of what was happening.

Rosé paced the room like a rabbit caught in a trap, looking restless and uneasy.

Why had she returned to this exact day—just one day before his proposal?

If she had more time, she could think of a way to avoid him, to devise a more convincing excuse.

But she had always returned to the moment after she had confessed her feelings to Kasiax and gained his favor.

They had confirmed their affection for each other through lingering glances at numerous balls, whispered secret words of love, and exchanged letters in secret.

At this point, the only thing left was his proposal.

How could she possibly avoid it naturally in this situation?

She had to prevent the word “marriage” from leaving his lips.

Should she pretend to be insane? Or claim to be gravely ill?

Wait! Should she run away to a foreign country with her brother, Hans?

‘No, no!’

Rosé shook her head violently. That would only be a temporary solution—it wouldn’t take long for them to catch on.

Kasiax wasn’t interested in her—what he truly wanted from this marriage was the Etoile family. She was nothing more than bait to lure them in.

She needed to stay focused.

This was her last chance, given by fate itself.

‘I must not make the same mistake this time!’

She couldn’t lose her family and her house again.

Taking a deep breath, Rosé carefully recalled her time in the Imperial Palace. It had been a painful period, but the key to her escape lay somewhere in those memories.

As she anxiously paced back and forth, her feet suddenly froze in place as if nailed to the floor.

A thought had struck her—something brilliant.

A gleam flashed in her violet eyes.

“Maxim Lankert!”

A name burst from her lips.

The King of Hellevant, the land of the northern barbarians.

The one and only man who could drive Kasiax mad with fear.

He had never once appeared publicly, leaving the Empire rife with monstrous rumors about him.

Some said he was a half-human, half-beast wolf. Others claimed a demon possessed him.

There were even horrific stories that he wore clothing made from human skin.

Rosé strained to recall more details from her hazy memories.

‘Yes. Around this time, when I was blinded by happiness after accepting Kasiax’ proposal, Lady Muriel, daughter of the Marquess of Muriel, was sent to the North as his bride.’

But Lady Muriel never even made it to Hellevant. Weak and terrified, she had taken poison in her carriage and ended her own life before arriving.

The memory of her parents’ grave conversation in the drawing room resurfaced.

And the man she had bumped into at the door—he must have been the Marquess of Montenegro, Muriel’s father.

‘And there was one more. Another noble lady who was sent there… only to return as a mutilated corpse, torn apart by beasts.’

Lady Ariella, the Count’s Daughter!

When her corpse was returned to Solstern after she had gone to the North in place of Lady Muriel, who had taken her own life, the Imperial family—and the entire empire—was horrified.

It was an insult severe enough to shatter an alliance. At the time, Kasiax had been on edge, his nerves stretched taut. He had taken it as a declaration of war from Maxim Lankert.

‘That was when the tense standoff between Kasiax and Maxim began, like walking on thin ice.’

Rosé clenched the beautiful dress she had worn when Kasiax proposed to her.

If she wanted to survive, she had to be willing to risk everything!

Now that she had decided, a strange sense of calm washed over her.