Chapter 1 – Instead of Breaking Off the Engagement (1)

The season of social gatherings, spring, had returned.

Not long ago, noble young ladies who had debuted before Her Majesty the Empress were now diligently showing their faces at tea parties and ladies’ musical gatherings in search of suitable husbands. The young gentlemen were no different. Through horse races, operas, and balls, they attended social events, sifting through candidates to find brides matching their family’s rank.

Choosing a spouse was a major event in anyone’s life, but for those who had much, the weight of that choice was heavier than ever. The world of high society, elegant and glamorous on the surface, was in truth a wild battlefield.

Smiling and chatting was just a façade; beneath it all, everyone was on guard, strictly calculating give-and-take, and never hesitating to act petty to gain the upper hand. It was always that way. That world called the upper class.

And even within that world, there was a top tier.

In the Empire, three prestigious families had long held the pinnacle of this harsh world. The ‘Three Men of the Prestigious Houses’—the Empire’s most eligible bachelors—were always followed by envious glances and countless rumors wherever they went.

It wasn’t always a welcome thing, so they had formed a secret club for their own gatherings. If one could attend this club, or even set foot in the hallway outside, there were many who would pay the price of a luxury mansion in the capital for the privilege.

“So, is it finally today? The day Benedict has been counting down to—the day he breaks off his engagement?”

Jeremy Winston, future Marquis Winston, asked as he looked at his cards.

“Can’t you tell just by looking at his face?”

It was Felix Spencer, Crown Prince of the Empire, who rebuked Jeremy with a slight frown. The sun never set on the Letus Empire, and Her Majesty the Empress never lost a battle, but unfortunately, her son was losing the game.

To that guy, right there.

“Yeah, from today on, I’m finally free.”

Benedict Nathaniel Rothschild. With an arrogant expression and a deep smile, he was the very image of a perfect nobleman.

To be precise, he was a man who had everything. The Young Duke and sole heir of the Rothschild Dukedom, possessing wealth, honor, and power. Born between a father who was the model of a perfect grand noble and a beautiful mother of Imperial blood, he was remarkable in every way.

His height and perfectly built physique resembled his father, a Marshal of the Imperial Army, while his dazzling blond hair and striking features were inherited from his mother, once the era’s greatest beauty.

His life had been smooth as well. He entered the elite Royal Academy and never lost first place in anything, whether studies or sports, until he graduated from the military academy. Even the businesses he started afterward flourished.

His influence was so great that there was a rumor that anyone in trade or finance who didn’t know his name was an idiot.

“Are you really not even a little sad? Your fiancée is really pretty. Hasn’t she gotten even prettier?”

Jeremy chuckled as he examined his cards.

“From today, she’s my ex-fiancée.”

Benedict corrected Jeremy’s nonsense with a cold voice, insisting she was now his ex, not his fiancée.

“So, can I ask your ex-fiancée out on a date tomorrow?”

Jeremy deliberately said something he didn’t mean. Benedict’s expression didn’t change, but as his childhood friend, Jeremy knew his words had made Benedict uncomfortable.

And Jeremy was willing to bet ten thousand gold that Benedict would stop him from asking her out.

“I’d never get involved with that woman.”

Of course. Jeremy exchanged a ‘knew it’ look with Felix as he took back his bet. Benedict, as always, noticed even that fleeting glance.

“Why? Not good enough for you? It’s not like you’re going to marry her. My ideal ‘date mate’ is always a pretty woman.”

Because Benedict hated even the word ‘mistress,’ Jeremy had invented the term ‘date mate.’ According to Jeremy, married men had ‘mistresses,’ but unmarried men had ‘date mates.’

Benedict sighed inwardly and blocked his friends’ attempts to tease him by slapping his cards on the table. Benedict’s hand was a full house.

As always, he was the winner.

“Benedict wins again? Boring.”

Jeremy grumbled.

“Still, you must have gotten attached after living together for so long?”

If even that playboy says no…

Felix, having lost the game, leaned back in his chair. Losing a bet wasn’t fun, but there was another spectacle: Benedict’s reaction, which, though subtle, was different from usual. It was a rare sight.

“Whatever you say should be better than silence, Your Highness.”

“Don’t drag the Empire’s future into this.”

Benedict twisted his lips and, in a tone reminiscent of Her Majesty the Empress, sent a chill down Felix’s spine. Benedict only called Felix ‘Your Highness’ in private when he was being sarcastic.

“If you want a pretty woman, look elsewhere. Unless you want to get stabbed in the back by her.”

His hand tightened slightly around his glass.

“That woman is a psychopath.”

* * *

Benedict left Marquis Winston’s residence, where the club meeting was held, in the evening as the sun was setting. Climbing into his car, he couldn’t hide his satisfied smile. He had crushed his friends with an overwhelming victory, ruining their plans to tease him.

Now, only one thing remained for him today: signing the document breaking off his engagement.

Once he finished that simple signature, today would be the most perfect day of his life.

The grand and beautiful car sped through the wind and finally arrived at the ducal residence. As the engine stopped, the mansion’s front doors opened, and the lined-up servants bowed respectfully as he climbed the steps.

“Welcome, Young Master.”

Tom, the elderly butler who had come out to greet him, bowed deeply and took his hat and coat.

“Where’s Father?”

“The Duke is in his study.”

“I’ll go up right away.”

After quickly washing his hands in a basin brought by a servant, Benedict headed straight for the Duke’s study on the second floor without looking back. Just then, he saw a woman leaving his father’s study. He had delayed his return just to avoid her.

Even from behind, Benedict knew instantly. Wearing a simple, modest dress fit for a governess, she exuded the noble aura that commoners could never approach. Her hair was neatly braided, and she wore not a single ornament.

His fiancée—no, soon-to-be ex-fiancée—Evelyn Haymon.

When Evelyn closed the study door with a small click and turned, Benedict faced her head-on.

‘D*mn, Jeremy’s always right about this stuff.’

She had clearly grown even prettier since he last saw her a year ago. Her face was strikingly pure and pale. And he realized—

The youthful look that had always lingered on her face was now completely gone. She was no longer a girl.

Not that it was surprising. He was the same. A year ago, he’d been on the border between boy and young man; now, anyone would see him as a proper adult.

Right, nothing strange about that—they were the same age.

“Young Master.”

She spoke first. Her appearance might have changed, but her sharp manners, stiff speech, and voice remained the same.

“It’s been a while, Lady Haymon.”

They exchanged formal greetings. Though never explicitly agreed upon, they both knew not to show unnecessary familiarity in front of others.

Since she had left the Royal Academy, where they’d both studied, to enter medical school, that agreement no longer mattered.

“Go on in. His Grace is waiting for you.”

‘Then I’ll take my leave.’

Evelyn finished her brief greeting and walked past Benedict toward the corridor leading to the third floor. The third floor was where she’d stayed ever since first coming to the Rothschild mansion at age twelve.

‘Going to pack up the rest of her things? Hurry up and go!’

Once Evelyn’s skirt disappeared around the corner, Benedict, feeling lighter than air, knocked on the Duke’s study door. He opened it as soon as permission was given, eager to sign and finish things quickly.

“You’re here, Ben.”

“Yes, Father.”

He entered and faced his father, Duke Nathaniel Rothschild.

Hoping for the words that would perfectly end his day.

* * *

“Come out, Haymon! Come out!”

Benedict dashed up to the third floor and pounded on Evelyn’s door with his fist. It was hard to believe this was the same dignified Young Duke. The evening was quiet, so the commotion in the hallway was loud.

He couldn’t help it. He’d just heard something unbelievable from his father.

<Marry Evelyn.>

Even though noble marriages were more about parents’ wishes and interests than the individuals’ desires, this was too much. Why had breaking off the engagement suddenly turned into marriage?!

“Lower your voice, Rothschild.”

Luckily, the noise didn’t last long. As if she’d expected him, Evelyn opened the door at once and stepped out, quietly closing it behind her. She had only taken off her coat from earlier, and her answer was as stiff as the buttoned-up collar she wore. Benedict gritted his teeth.

Seeing her unchanged face only made him angrier.

“You, did you know?”

“Yes.”

“What? You knew Father would suggest it, and you agreed?”

“No, I suggested it.”

She had even made the suggestion herself?

Her cold pink eyes looked straight at him, unfazed by the seriousness of the situation.

The Duke had called Evelyn to the mansion today to sign the engagement break-off papers. But she had instead proposed marriage. Benedict couldn’t understand when she’d decided to marry him—or why she’d chosen him as a husband.

“I never even proposed to you, so why am I to be your husband?”

Benedict slammed his right hand beside Evelyn’s face and pressed her against the door, growling. Even with his sudden, uncharacteristic behavior, she didn’t so much as blink.

‘Propose?’

She actually scoffed at the word coming from Benedict’s mouth.

“Young Duke Rothschild, if the clever you can’t figure it out, your mind must’ve gotten rusty.”

‘Maybe you should’ve kept studying after graduating from the Academy, instead of hanging around clubs and chasing after women.’

Benedict thought he’d gladly give up the rights to one of his diamond mines if he could make this woman—who had never lost to anyone—lose her composure even once.