The Black Rose Blooms on the Snowy Mountain

Vivian, the most radiant rose of the capital’s social scene.
Yet every time her name passed between the lips of gossips, the imperial family lost sleep.
The existence of imperial blood flowing through her veins could never be allowed to reach the world’s ears.

Renard Callen, a war hero who drenched the battlefield in blood, and the Duke of the North.
Yet no one had ever seen the face behind his mask.
For it was known that anyone who laid eyes on his cursed scar, the face of that terrible monster, would themselves be cursed.

At last, the imperial family finally reached a decision.
Marriage.
Their calculation was to bind together two thorns in the empire’s side and bury them in the snowy mountains of the north.

Ordered to wed, Vivian resolves to tear the mask from the monster’s face before the eyes of the entire empire.
She didn’t care if she was cursed. Simply taking what was dealt to her wasn’t in her nature.
And soon, Vivian realizes it.

‘The curse never existed to begin with.’

What had slumbered beneath the mask was no monster. Hidden there was only a beauty that had never seen the light, buried beneath years of assumption and belief.
And yet.

Neither Renard, who had spent so many years believing himself to be a monster, nor anyone in the empire who believed the same, could accept that truth.

“You are not a monster.”
“……I’m grateful you say so. But there’s no need to force yourself.”

Atop the snowy mountain, a single black rose begins to bloom.