“Are you ready?”

Reynard, who had come to accompany Evelyn to the afternoon ball, asked her.

Having stayed up all night due to Martin’s visit, Evelyn nodded at him, feeling slightly tired.

Though the ball would begin in the afternoon, Evelyn’s preparations had started early in the morning.

She had bathed, received a massage, changed her clothes, and had her hair styled.

She had spent more time than expected getting ready, leaving her little time to rest.

“You look tired.”

“I didn’t sleep well. I think that’s why.”

At Evelyn’s brief response, Reynard looked at her complexion for a moment.

“Is it because you’re feeling pressured?”

Reynard seemed unaware that Martin had visited Evelyn privately.

Evelyn glanced subtly at Martin, who was following behind Reynard.

But he was simply watching Reynard, as if nothing had happened.

When Evelyn turned her gaze elsewhere, Reynard lowered his head to block her line of sight.

Only then did Evelyn come to her senses and respond with an awkward smile.

“I think that’s probably it.”

“You don’t need to feel so pressured. Like I said yesterday, even if something happens, I’ll take care of it.”

“Yes.”

To others, his words might have sounded reassuring, but not to Evelyn.

All night, she had imagined scenarios where her true identity might be exposed.

And in every case, she had concluded that death was the only possible outcome.

If she wanted to live, she must never let it be discovered that she was an imposter.

At last, the two of them arrived at the entrance to the ballroom.

Upon seeing them, the attendants and guards gave them a courteous bow.

“His Imperial Majesty enters! Her Imperial Majesty enters!”

Following that, the attendant loudly announced Reynard and Evelyn’s entrance to the ball.

Reynard gracefully escorted Evelyn into the ballroom.

A grand fanfare still echoed, and the orchestra filled the hall with a piece announcing their arrival.

Evelyn kept her gaze lowered as she passed through the crowd and stepped onto the dais.

She then sat on the imperial throne with Reynard.

As the two took their seats, the nobles, who had bowed in greeting, resumed enjoying the ball.

Among them was Adelheid’s group, whom Evelyn had seen the day before.

Though she tried not to be conscious of them, Evelyn’s eyes kept drifting in their direction.

And once again, someone else caught her attention.

It was Greta Emmett.

She was surrounded by many people, all of whom conversed with her with bored expressions.

Greta appeared more beautiful than anyone Evelyn had ever seen.

Her pink hair, soft and lustrous, flowed down to her waist, and her emerald-like green eyes, though filled with boredom, never lost their brilliance.

She had a noble air that perfectly matched her charming, catlike appearance.

Evelyn looked at her and thought of herself.

She wore long platinum blonde hair that reached her waist, just like the real Princess Ophelia.

However, unlike the well-maintained hair of the true princess, Evelyn’s was a faded white, almost colorless.

She also had teal eyes, but they always seemed gloomy, and so often appeared lifeless.

Because of that, Evelyn worried that someone might realize she wasn’t truly Princess Ophelia just by looking at her.

Fortunately, no one had yet commented on her appearance.

Of course, it hadn’t even been a full week since she arrived at the imperial palace in Bait.

Thinking that far, Evelyn recalled a boy who had once told her she was pretty—the only one who ever had.

She remembered that the boy had been a servant accompanying the envoy from Bait.

To her, that had been the first and only memory of someone complimenting her.

“What are you thinking about so deeply?”

Reynard asked curiously as Evelyn, unusually, smiled faintly while staring into space.

Evelyn quickly came to herself and shook her head.

“It’s nothing.”

“I wanted to hear that ‘nothing,’ that’s why I asked.”

Reynard pressed her gently.

Evelyn hesitated, then parted her lips.

“I was thinking of someone I met before.”

“Someone you met?”

“Yes. Not here—back when I was in Hesta.”

“Was it a man?”

Reynard abruptly asked, looking at Evelyn.

He wore a rare, uncomfortable expression.

Evelyn, still wrapped in the rare warmth of her memories, didn’t notice his discomfort and replied with a smile.

“Yes, he was.”

“……”

“But it’s been so long that he’s probably forgotten about me.”

“I see.”

Reynard answered in a sulky tone.

Evelyn, who belatedly came to her senses, tilted her head, unable to understand why he had responded so brusquely.

“I had a woman I met before, too.”

Reynard said, as if to rebut her words.

But Evelyn simply nodded toward him as though learning something new.

“What kind of person was she?”

“She was kind and cute. A little gloomy, too.”

“…I see. Are you still seeing her now?”

To Evelyn’s question, Reynard simply nodded in reply.

Evelyn gave more thought to Reynard’s situation.

Since ascending to the throne, Reynard had been preparing to marry Greta Emmett.

However, she didn’t think the woman Reynard spoke of was Greta.

That was because the description he gave didn’t match the image of Greta at all.

‘Maybe His Majesty has someone else he loves.’

Evelyn dared to guess.

And she concluded that it was because he wanted to marry that woman that he couldn’t go through with marrying Greta Emmett.

But soon, she found herself puzzled.

If the reason for not marrying Greta wasn’t political but because he was seeing someone else, then was it really necessary for him to enter a sham marriage with Evelyn?

Did he think it was fine because it was only temporary?

‘Yes, maybe that’s it.’

Perhaps his plan was to use Evelyn to keep the Emmett duchy in check for the time being, then let her go after a year and bring in the woman he truly loved as his wife.

Finding the explanation reasonable, Evelyn nodded to herself.

“What are you thinking so deeply about?”

“No, it’s nothing.”

“……”

Reynard, looking displeased, rose from his seat.

Naturally, Evelyn’s gaze followed him upward.

“Then I’ll step out for a moment.”

“Yes. Go ahead.”

Reynard, who had been staying by her side, left the platform to socialize with the nobles, leaving Evelyn alone.

Still, unlike yesterday, she felt somewhat at ease knowing she didn’t have to mingle with others.

At the same time, Evelyn looked around intently, wondering if the woman Reynard had mentioned might be somewhere in the ballroom.

But no matter how much she searched, it was difficult to identify such a person among the many noble young ladies.

All she had to go on were the vague clues—”cute, kind, and looked a bit gloomy”—which made it nearly impossible to pinpoint anyone who fit.

Moreover, the thought belatedly occurred to her that the woman Reynard spoke of might not even be present at this ball.

And with that, a wry smile formed on her lips.

Reynard had shown her too much mercy all this time.

Even though he knew she was a fake, he allowed her to exist as a princess, and now as the empress. He was also exceedingly kind in how he treated her.

Because of that, Evelyn had once wondered if perhaps Reynard had feelings for her.

But it seemed it had all been a misunderstanding.