“…What?”

By the time the Crown Prince echoed the words blankly, Leonie had already left the room.

He stood there in stunned silence for quite some time, unable to believe he had been rejected until a knock at the door finally snapped him back to himself.

***

It had truly been an exhausting night.

She wanted nothing more than to return home and rest, but knowing the future as she did, she could not afford to.

Leonie made her way toward a secluded women’s lounge. At balls like this, there were always private rest areas separate for men and women meant for touching up makeup or taking a brief respite. She intended to fix her hair and erase every trace of what had just happened before moving again.

“Lady Bastian!”

The moment she thought that, someone called out to her.

She turned to see a petite woman with brown hair and brown eyes, dressed in a fashionable gown that perfectly matched the evening’s pastel-toned dress code.

Amber Delia Magnus.

The ‘precious’ friend who had clung to her ever since she arrived in the capital and generously offered strategies for winning over the Crown Prince.

Leonie ground her teeth inwardly.

All the information Amber had given her had been disguised as help but in truth, it had all been designed to make her look like a fool. From the colors the Crown Prince supposedly liked to the styles and makeup techniques every single detail had been a lie.

Leonie only knew it now because she had read the novel. The original Leonie had never suspected Amber until the day she was assassinated.

‘How can someone toy with a person who trusts them like that?’

Staring at the woman who had deceived her, Leonie’s gaze sharpened.

“What is it, Lady Bastian?”

“…It’s nothing.”

She would have liked to unleash a torrent of insults, call her a wretch so obsessed with a man that she didn’t even see other women as people. But as of now, Amber had committed no visible wrongdoing. Even tonight’s dress choice, though encouraged by Amber, had ultimately been Leonie’s own decision.

“L-Lady…”

“Yes?”

“…Did something happen?”

Amber’s expression was anxious. She likely did not mean something she wanted to know whether Leonie had met the Crown Prince.

In the novel, Amber had witnessed the Crown Prince follow Leonie into the room. Though she pretended to support them, Amber had desperately wanted to become his herself. Of course she would be uneasy.

“I wonder.”

Suppressing a mocking smile, Leonie let the wind sweep through her hair and gave Amber a radiant smile.

Amber stared at her, momentarily entranced.

‘What is this?’

She remembered Lady Bastian as timid and constantly watching others for cues. But the woman before her stood confidently, exuding composure.

This was not the Leonie Dina Bastian she knew.

A faint sense of danger crept over Amber.

“Lady Magnus.”

“…Y-Yes?”

Leonie gestured lightly to her wind-tousled hair.

“I would like to tidy my hair. Would you assist me?”

Amber’s expression stiffened.

It was not uncommon for a lower-ranking noblewoman to assist a higher-ranking one with her appearance. Yet it was also something not done unless the gap in status was considerable.

A viscount’s daughter assisting another lady was not inappropriate.

But Amber had always walked beside Leonie as an equal. Leonie had never once asked her to perform such a task.

She had said she did not wish to treat her friend like a maid.

And now she was asking.

“…Me? Would it not be better to return home instead? To your estate?”

Amber forced a polite smile as she suggested it.

In the original story, Leonie had followed this advice and left in a disheveled state. She had been deeply grateful.

But it had not been a kindness.

Because in the months that followed, Leonie became entangled in vicious scandal.

A young lady vanishing at the start of a ball was not unheard of. But disappearing and returning in a disordered state was another matter.

Leonie had believed Amber was guiding her along a quiet route unseen by others. In truth, the path had merely appeared empty, a discreet corridor favored by nobles for secret encounters.

Rumors spread like oil on flame. Several men who had left around the same time were named as her supposed partners. Though Leonie denied it, no one believed her. She became the laughingstock of high society.

Leonie would have wagered ten dresses that at least one of those rumors had originated from Amber’s own mouth.

“Lady Magnus, the truth is… I find myself in a rather delicate situation.”

“Yes?”

Leonie lowered her voice as if confiding a secret. Amber leaned closer to hear.

Resisting the urge to startle her with a sudden shout, Leonie whispered.

“I met His Highness the Crown Prince.”

“What?”

Amber’s pupils trembled.

She had seen the two enter the same room; that was not the shocking part.

What startled her was that Leonie had spoken of it aloud.

High society was a battlefield of politics and public opinion. Not all alliances were forged purely by strategy, image and perception carried tremendous weight.

Amber, who had always considered herself above Leonie, began to worry that Lady Bastian intended to use the rumor of a private meeting to secure a marriage.

“As you know, His Highness does not care for me.”

“…P-Please don’t say that, Lady Bastian.”

“I entered a room and found His Highness there. I hurried out, and in the process my hair became quite disheveled. If I remain like this, it will spark scandal between us.”

The lie rolled effortlessly off Leonie’s tongue.

How could one rush out of a room and end up so thoroughly undone? And Amber knew well that they had spent more than an hour together.

‘Why is she lying?’

Amber was confused.

If Leonie had shared an intimate moment with the Crown Prince, she should be publicizing it to solidify a marriage.

If not—

What in the world had they been doing alone together for over an hour?

But that was not something Amber should pry into.

She had never intended to bind Leonie and the Crown Prince together with her own hands. And yet, Leonie’s attitude struck her as suspicious no matter how she looked at it. Caught between action and inaction, Amber could only stand there blankly.

Leonie gave her a light push on the back.

“His Highness does not like me. If rumors begin to circulate about us, he will only dislike me more.”

Leonie bit her lip and spoke as though sorrowful. Amber’s eyes flashed.

If that was the reason she wished to conceal the time spent with the Crown Prince, it was understandable. Amber found herself oddly relieved that Lady Bastian was still as timid and lacking in confidence as ever.

Suppressing the smile that threatened to spread across her face, Amber arranged her features into a sympathetic expression.

“That… may be true.”

Leonie scoffed inwardly.

Amber was always like this pretending to help, pretending to encourage, only to ensure that at the crucial moment, Leonie chose the worst possible path.

Even now, if she truly wished to tie Leonie to the Crown Prince, she could have easily brought witnesses to confirm they had been in the same room. Or at least found a way to spread the rumor herself.

Of course, leveraging scandal would brand Leonie as a loose woman dishonorable for a noble lady. But invoking responsibility would also be the fastest and most certain path to marriage with the Crown Prince.

“Then I will quickly fix your hair.”

Amber produced a small jeweled comb she always carried but had never used. It was meant for moments when someone of higher standing might request assistance. Yet most nobles of rank were perceptive enough to recognize Amber’s cunning, and so the comb had remained untouched until now.

Leading Leonie to a chair in the garden, Amber began to comb her hair. The silky strands slid smoothly through her fingers.

But her face twisted as though she were grasping a cockroach’s antennae.

To think she was combing the hair of a mere marquis’s daughter at a grand ball, how humiliating.

‘Still, I have another way to make her suffer.’

Humming softly, Amber allowed a calculating smile to bloom on her face.

They were in the heart of the secret garden. Throughout its corners, couples were surely enjoying clandestine meetings. She had already noted the face of the notorious young master of the Disset family, famous for wandering hands, slipping into the garden moments before Leonie emerged from the Crown Prince’s room.

The young lady accompanying him was a duke’s daughter attending her first season. Given her status, she would likely remain silent even if rumors linked Leonie to the man.

‘This works out nicely. For me and for you, Lady Bastian.’

Smiling sweetly, Amber wove her scheme.

‘If scandal attaches to her immediately after spending time with His Highness, even the faintest goodwill he might have felt toward her will vanish.’

So delighted was she that she ended up styling Leonie’s hair beautifully. Seventeen braids were woven together into a rose blooming at the back of her head.

Amber nearly regretted it. She almost felt the urge to undo it all and tangle it again.

“Lady Magnus, is it taking long?”

“O-Oh, no. I’m finished, Lady Bastian.”

Startled by the prompt, Amber declared it done.

She could not bring herself to ruin the carefully arranged hairstyle and awkwardly completed the final touches.

“How is it?”

Leonie rose and turned in a slow circle. Her hair shimmered like cream under the light.

Amber wanted to tear apart the white rose blooming at the back of Leonie’s head but she forced herself to praise it.

And unfortunately for Amber, it was true.

She tried to guide Leonie toward the carriages. The sooner she left, the easier it would be to fabricate scandal.

But Leonie did not follow.

“Lady Bastian?”

Leonie Dina Bastian smiled brightly.

A chill ran down Amber’s spine.

“Let us return to the ballroom.”

The perfectly adorned lady declared it with calm confidence.

Amber was displeased, but she could not override the decision of a higher-ranking noblewoman. Still, she was not worried.

After the host delivered the opening speech, late arrivals drew little attention. Lady Bastian would, as always, fade into the background a mere wallflower. No one would remember her.

And once rumors spread, memory would distort accordingly.

Amber trusted in that truth.

‘You’re far too transparent.’

Leonie could now read Amber’s thoughts easily. Even if she returned to the ballroom, failing to draw attention would allow Amber to entangle her in scandal with little effort.

People rarely paid attention to others.

‘So even if I step out and back in, no one will even notice I was gone.’

Taking advantage of that very principle, Leonie slipped quietly back into the ballroom. She followed Amber toward the wall and then surveyed the room.

She searched for someone suitable to leave an impression upon.

Amid the flow of countless guests, she spotted a man who had left a deep impression on her in the novel.

A righteous man who had protected her until the very end.

A man burdened with unspoken secrets.

He would be the perfect ally.

“Lady Bastian?”

Amber called out in alarm as Leonie suddenly stepped away from the wall.

But Leonie paid her no mind.

She walked toward the circle of men gathered in conversation. As she entered their space, they regarded the woman who had intruded upon their domain with interest and parted naturally to let her through.

“Lady.”

Taylas Ramon Menes, the young duke greeted her.

Drawing upon warm memories of a future that had yet to unfold, Leonie offered him a proper curtsy. Then she extended her hand.

“Would you grant me the honor of a dance, Your Grace?”

At the unprecedented sight of a lady inviting a gentleman first, every gaze in the room turned toward Leonie.

At the center of those stares, Taylas lifted one brow and looked down at her.