Prologue

Chloe liked Demetrian. Maybe, he liked her too…

“Demi!”

“Oh my, Lady Lacroix.”

“Since your close friend has arrived, we should take our leave.”

Whenever Chloe called out to Demetrian with the nickname only they allowed each other to use, the people who had gathered around the famous socialite, the young Duke Crevelle, would naturally step aside.

Chloe liked those moments. When Demetrian, surrounded by people dressed in lavish outfits, would look up and gaze at her.

When his neatly groomed face broke into a smile, and his blue eyes, under his slicked-back black hair, focused on her with a look only she knew, Chloe felt like the most special person in the world. In that moment, it seemed as if the music of the orchestra, the dazzling chandelier lights, and the laughter of the people existed only for them.

“Have you been drinking a lot again?”

“Hehe.”

“When you come to the banquet, I’ll have to tell the coachman to wait at the court stables.”

The corner of Demetrian’s mouth curled up sarcastically. Only she could make him smile like this. Chloe knew that well.

“Those two seem really close.”

“They’ve been inseparable since childhood, and sometimes Young Duke Crevelle seems more like a real brother than her own brother.”

“What must it feel like to have the first dance with the young Duke Crevelle? They suit each other so well that I’m not even jealous.”

“Watch your words; after all, the young Duke…”

“Yes, those two… it’s something the Duke of Crevelle vowed with the Grand Duke of Campo.”

No matter what the socialites who fancied them might say out of concern.

After putting Chloe into the Lacroix carriage first, Demetrian swiftly and familiarly took his place beside her.

Whenever Chloe attended a social event, she would always eagerly await this moment.

Since Chloe’s debut in society, Demetrian had asked her for every first dance, and the socialites never misunderstood their friendship. And at the end of every party, when Chloe became intoxicated by the atmosphere and fine wine, it was always Demetrian who escorted her home.

Since the day her memories began, Chloe had already liked Demetrian.

The heir to the Crevelle Dukedom, one of the five dukes of the Empire, a famous figure who had never lost his popularity, whether during his time at the Imperial Academy or in the current social circles, a promising young official who had started his rapid ascent after becoming the aide to the Senate President, Duke Crevelle.

He had many labels, but Chloe liked something else.

The hand that always held hers and never let go when they wandered through the maze-like garden of the Duke’s estate,the seven-year-old’s pretend adult face as he explained the meanings of the various flowers in the Crevelle greenhouse, the expression of someone who, despite being more outstanding than anyone their age, listened to her stories as if they were the most important teachings in the world.

The mischievous smile like that of a boy, which others never saw, or the somewhat cynical tone when discussing politics or classics with her—these were things only she had known for nearly 20 years.

“Why do you sip alcohol at every party if you can’t handle it?”

“Well…”

Because that way, you have to take me home.

Chloe swallowed those words and smiled bashfully.

Her cheeks flushed red, and her emerald-green eyes shone brightly. As Demetrian carefully studied Chloe’s face, a crooked smile formed on his lips.

“Sometimes, it feels like I’m your brother, not Etienne.”

“Don’t say such horrible things.”

Pouting, Chloe pulled out the hairpin securing her tangerine-colored hair and leaned against the carriage window, nodding off to the rhythm of the horses’ hooves. As usual, her head soon rested on Demetrian’s shoulder.

Her gaze drifted indifferently out the window at the night sky, but her heart melted into the calm and slightly tingling atmosphere, as if they were the only two people in the world.

Tap tap, when the Lacroix townhouse appeared in the distance, Demetrian lightly tapped Chloe’s forehead with his fingers, waking her from her light sleep, her eyes blinking with regret, and his voice, veiled in affection, teasing her. All of these things were part of that serene excitement.

“Expensive goods from Lacroix should come with a manual: ‘Will fall asleep anywhere after drinking more than one bottle of wine.'”

“For the item reserved for Campo, it will say, ‘No returns, even if you speak too harshly.'”

Even the usual jokes, comparing themselves to high-born goods in the arranged marriage market.

“Yes, yes. It’s time for you to go home, my lady.”

As always, after getting off first, Demetrian extended his hand to Chloe. Beyond his hand was the same smile he had since he was a boy, the certainty of their stable friendship, and a look in his eyes that mixed some other kind of warmth.

When she took his hot hand and playfully jumped down, he would firmly support her, gripping her hand tightly so she wouldn’t stumble.

In front of the dimly moonlit entrance.

As the carriage headed toward the stables and the Crevelle carriage that had escorted Chloe reached the front gate, everything returned to reality.

“Go inside safely.”

“Good night.”

“Yes, you too.”

Even after their hands parted, Chloe’s fingertips brushed teasingly against his, and Demetrian furrowed his brow slightly, like an adult humoring a child, before turning away.

His evening attire remained impeccable, even on this night, his stride firm and straight, the massive black carriage of Crevelle as rigid and stern as his temperament.

This was the end. Now, it was time to wake up from the magic the night fairy had cast.

In truth, Chloe wasn’t particularly drunk or tired, but she turned back inside with a light step.

“You’ve returned, my lady.”

“Yes. Are my parents still awake?”

Handing over her hair ornament and gloves to the maids who had come to attend to her, Chloe glanced at the reception room, where the lights were still brightly lit. Since her debut in society two years ago, Chloe had been invited to various gatherings and returned home close to midnight, usually finding her parents already asleep.

“Yes, they are waiting for you, my lady.”

“For me?”

Although the butler’s apologetic expression crossed her mind, Chloe didn’t think much of it and entered the reception room.

“Mother, Father, I’m home!”

Instead of the usual response of “Welcome back, did you have fun today? Oh, our little drinker,” the Lacroix couple wore somber expressions. Even her older brother, Etienne, who had returned home from the party earlier, and her younger brother, Achille, who usually pretended to be shocked at his sister’s antics, were also silent.

“What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

The butler’s apologetic face and the atmosphere in the room overlapped, making Chloe uneasy.

“Loi, my dear.”

Her father, the Count Palatine of Lacroix, spoke heavily.

“A marriage proposal…has come for you.”

They called him the Hero of the Nation.

He had found the national treasure that the Empire of Arthuzen had lost, in the royal family of the vassal state of Scandar, and in return for its return, an astronomical sum was mentioned. The only way to waive this was Scandar’s complete independence.

Arthuzen couldn’t simply let go of a vassal state of a thousand years, and Scandar wanted complete independence. Conveniently, the solution was an arranged marriage.

However, there was no Imperial Princess, and the daughters of the ducal houses were either already married or not of the right age. When candidates were sought from the marquises’ families, there were no suitable options, as they were all either anti-independence or anti-imperial, or appeared to be looking to profit from the situation… In any case, each had their own disqualifying reasons.

Thus, the bitter cup was passed to the daughter of the Earl, who had served the Imperial Family closest for generations. Though titled an Earl, the Earl of Lacroix wielded power comparable to that of a Duke, being in charge of the Imperial administration.

Under the pretense of being practically family, the Earl’s daughter quickly gained the status of a quasi-princess.

From that day on, Demetrian couldn’t escape this unfamiliar emotion, not even for a moment.

It would be a lie to say he never expected such a day would come, but he never truly believed it would.

He had been driven by his duties as the heir of the Crevelle Dukedom—to enter the Imperial Youth Guard, to pass the entrance exams to the Imperial Academy with high marks, to secure the top spot each year and elevate the Crevelle family’s prestige, to graduate early and enter the Senate, and now to aim for a position in the Ministry of Internal Affairs.

This journey never allowed him the luxury of thinking about losing Chloe, the one with whom he had shared a special friendship.

‘If only Loi had had a fiancé… no, who would dare to propose to her when she was always with me? So, if I hadn’t had a fiancé…’

And when he realized that this unfamiliar emotion was “regret,” Demetrian was shocked.

Planning and achieving his goals was his duty as the heir; regret had no place in his life.

Demetrian was shocked by how quickly he could lose Chloe and shocked again at how despairingly he accepted that fact.

Demetrian also liked Chloe. Perhaps even more than she did…

When his mother hosted tea parties and noble ladies flocked to the mansion, he couldn’t ignore the large green eyes peeking around him, even while doing homework assigned by his tutor. When the child, holding his hand tightly, said, “I don’t want to go home! I want to marry Demi!” he would stroke her tangerine hair, even knowing the adults’ ambiguous smiles.

Marriage.

He knew that his father, the Duke of Crevelle, had made a vow with Grand Duke Campo in the temple to marry their children to each other. That was the mission of the Crevelle heir. But since there was only a boy of the same age in Campo, it didn’t feel real.

However, when he turned eight, a late-born daughter was finally born to the Campo Grand Duchy. And when Chloe insisted on playing with him, the adults started responding more concretely, saying, “Demetrian must marry the young lady of Campo in the future.”

Little Chloe, knowing nothing, continued to throw tantrums, and Demetrian always patted her head, but at some point, he added one more line.

“Unfortunately, but let’s play again next time.”

Unfortunately, unfortunately…

Demetrian, who had lived diligently as the heir, guided by reason alone, didn’t know how to handle this unfamiliar emotion that troubled him.

Chloe, whom he saw for the first time in a month, was even more beautiful and frail. He wondered if there had ever been a time when they hadn’t met for so long. Chloe, who had been coming and going from the Imperial Palace, receiving traditional bridal training, looked somewhat fatigued.

Her skin, which would have been healthily tanned from riding with him under the early summer sun, was now as pale as ivory. Her cheeks, which used to puff up when they had tea together, had become more slender.

Looking at this Chloe, Demetrian could think of nothing but calming the unfamiliar emotion that was troubling him.

“Couldn’t I just say I have a secret lover?”

“…I know you don’t want to leave Arthuzen, but still.”

Chloe, who had loved Demetrian for as long as she had known him, also knew well that she couldn’t monopolize him. She also knew that, someday, they would have to grow apart… But she had never imagined it would happen like this.

She hadn’t fallen in love with the young king of Scandar, and Scandar was so, so far away. Far enough that she might never see someone again for a lifetime.

“Still, if there had been a lover, it wouldn’t have been such a hasty decision. It’s like it was decided in advance.”

“No ordinary nobleman would have been suitable.”

“That’s what I’m saying…”

So she didn’t know what kind of expression she should wear in such a moment.

She had never thought that it had to be Demetrian, but right now, it felt that way.

For twenty years, she had believed that Demetrian would eventually marry the young lady of Campo, and she would marry another wonderful man. That was the rational conclusion to this exclusive friendship.

If only the Duke of Crevelle hadn’t made that promise, perhaps…

Chloe couldn’t utter any of the thoughts that followed. Her green eyes shone sadly, filled with a yearning she couldn’t express.

Demetrian couldn’t say anything in response.

If he hadn’t understood the meaning hidden in those unsaid thoughts, his heart wouldn’t have pounded so painfully as he ran out to greet her when she suddenly arrived, he wouldn’t have felt so helplessly anxious at her words that she didn’t want to go to Scandar, and the setting afternoon sunlight wouldn’t have felt so regretful.

More than a fiancée he only heard about through his father, Chloe, who had been a part of his thoughts every single day since childhood, had always occupied the most certain and significant part of his heart. He just hadn’t realized it until now.

And yet, Demetrian couldn’t offer any answers. Because everything was already too late.

After a long silence, all he managed to squeeze out was this:

“If it had been a few years ago, things might have been different…”

It was the last thing Chloe heard from Demetrian on the day they met for the last time.