The Rose Palace, where the princess resided, was as quiet as ever today and expected to remain that way.

A chill, rhythmic sound of footsteps approached from a distance, breaking the long, drawn-out silence that wrapped around the palace like air. The line of pillars in the corridor cast rigid shadows at the unwelcome intrusion. But Ruben Effenberg, the owner of the footsteps, seemed unperturbed, pressing forward steadily as though accustomed to such cold reception.

Ruben Effenberg. Words to describe him were abundant. From the youngest duke in the Kingdom of Bailey to the sole heir of the founding Effenberg family, the kingdom’s top knight and commander of the First Order of Knights. He was celebrated as the most handsome man on the continent, capable of stirring the hearts of countless women.

Yet among all these accolades, one title followed him last and always in hushed tones—the sword of Helia Bailey, the sole princess of the Bailey royal family, to whom he once swore unofficial loyalty.

“A shameful past.”

It was a distant past, merely the folly of a child, but the memory still bound him, keeping him from moving forward. And once again, that same shackle of a title had brought him here.

The face called the most beautiful on the continent was now contorted in anger. Ruben Effenberg had not visited this place for the past ten years. The reason was simple: he was no longer her sword. In fact, he was no longer anything to her, just as she was nothing to him.

At last, a presence stirred in the empty, hollow space. A maid who spotted him greeted him with a startled face before quickly leaving, likely heading off to inform her mistress, the princess. Soon, the princess would know he was here.

It was natural for a princess to be notified before a visitor, yet Ruben found this unreasonably unpleasant. As if he had never even considered that it might be rude for a mere duke to visit the princess’s residence unannounced.

The same pathways, the same palace, the same woman. Walking down the corridor, he loathed how familiar he still was with the place’s layout. Yet, as if betraying that thought, his steps moved him unerringly towards his destination, each stride precise enough to be admired.

“Welcome, Duke Effenberg.”

Anna, the head maid, who had hurried to the reception room at the news of his visit, greeted him respectfully. Ruben looked at her silently for a moment. The years were evident on her face, which he had not seen for a decade.

There was a time when he frequented this place as though it were his own home when she was younger, and he was youthful, too. Memories of holding hands with someone smaller and softer as they ran down this corridor—shards of memory better left forgotten.

Anna looked back at him as well. The boy who had clung tightly to that tiny hand, once led by a young girl, now bore the gaze of a grown man. The mature young man before her was impressive enough to inspire admiration. Having known him since his younger days, the reality struck her even more. But the man’s face was too stiff to show any sign of warmth, and knowing the reason for this, Anna held her silence.

“What brings you here?” she asked.

“I’m here to see the princess.”

“Without a single word of notice?”

“I hardly think she wouldn’t know I was coming.”

His tone was confident. Anna swallowed a sigh. Helia had ordered her attendants to prepare her from early this morning as if to prove his words. She was dressed more lavishly than she would for a ball, and though she looked undoubtedly beautiful, Anna thought her beauty would only further displease the man before her.

“Perhaps it would have been better if he hadn’t come.”

Yet, like a general holding the line on the battlefield, the duke seemed unwilling to retreat. Anna resigned herself quickly, knowing it was beyond her power to interfere. All she could do was silently hope that their relationship wouldn’t end in finality.

“Please wait here a moment. I will announce your arrival to Her Highness.”

Anna excused herself from those words and left. Ruben, still bearing a hardened expression, sat on the sofa in the reception room. He glanced around briefly before deciding to close his eyes. The unchanged scenery, as if frozen in time, was tiresome.

It was a deep-seated grudge, a bitter connection that seemed to mend itself even when he thought it was severed. If anyone asked him about his relationship with her, he would have no choice but to describe it that way.

There had been a time when he mistook this grudge for a bond. A naive period when he believed she was his destiny. He’d knelt before her, who shone like the sun, and played the part of a hero, swearing eternal loyalty. It was a painful misstep, not even worthy of being called an embarrassing past. No matter how young he had been, it was no excuse. Once, he had been her sword, her knight. Damn it, he really had.

This place, so familiar after all these years, kept pulling unnecessary memories into his mind. Ruben leaned his head back on the sofa, his eyes still shut.

“Don’t think about it.”

However, contrary to Anna’s words about waiting briefly, the princess did not appear for quite some time. There was no way she would be out of the Rose Palace, where she seemed almost permanently stationed. And she wouldn’t be receiving anyone else since no one was around. The answer was clear—she was deliberately making him wait.

He could sense the growing restlessness of the maids, but he understood this delay as her petty attempt to torment him. A mere princess, ousted from the line of succession and lacking any real power, could manage only this level of spite. Just enough to leave the mark of a cat’s claw, unable to inflict any real damage. And so, he patiently awaited her with a heart colder than before.

“Her Highness, the Princess will see you now.”

Anna finally returned as the sun was nearing the horizon. Her expression hid her embarrassment at her mistress’s discourtesy. Ruben stood up without a change in his impassive expression. He was not one to reveal much emotion, but honestly, he felt nothing.

“Perhaps I should commend her for not keeping me waiting until tomorrow.”

The door to the reception room opened, and the princess finally entered. Her vibrant red hair cascading down her shoulders, radiant golden eyes, and finely sculpted features made her look like the sun itself. Anyone meeting her for the first time might feel compelled to bow in awe.

But Ruben knew the true nature hidden behind that dazzling exterior. Her beauty, twisted with resentment, her boundless malice towards others, her disturbing obsession with him… The memories made his gaze narrow instinctively in distaste.

Unaware of his inner thoughts, Helia approached him slowly. Like a snake slithering closer, her silent footsteps made no sound on the floor. Ruben, fully aware of her every move but choosing to ignore it, offered a formal greeting with a slight bow.

“I greet Princess Helia Bailey, the Rose of Bailey.”

As he straightened, he noticed the narrowed distance between them and raised an eyebrow in surprise. Helia ignored this and opened a fan to hide her face.

“What brings the esteemed Duke Effenberg all the way here?”

Her tone was almost taunting, and it was hardly how one would address someone after ten years. Yet her disdain was expected. Ruben responded calmly, his face expressionless.

“I thought you might have something to discuss with me.”

“I don’t particularly have anything to discuss.”

It was a smooth deflection. Realizing that the conversation wouldn’t progress at this rate, Ruben politely made a request.

“Please dismiss the others.”

“Did I hear you correctly? Surely the duke isn’t saying he wishes to be alone with an unmarried woman?”

“…”

“If the ladies who adore you heard that, they’d soak their handkerchiefs with tears.”

Helia chuckled—an apparent mockery. No one in society would openly ridicule someone like this to their face. Yet Ruben remained composed. Only his famous green eyes, regarded as a national treasure, gleamed with an unmistakable hostility.

“Wasn’t it you who once wished we could be alone together?”

At his words, Helia’s golden eyes, which had been smiling, fixed sharply on him. His dark hair cast a shadow across her fair face. His green eyes, as calm as a windless forest, conveyed only one emotion toward her.

After staring at him in silence, Helia snapped her fan shut sharply and commanded Anna, who was standing behind her.

“Leave us.”

“But, Your Highness…”

“Must I repeat myself?”