Chapter 3.1 – A Romance Without Restraint  

Only six days.  

Her first and last romance had ended.  

Carnier entered the powder room, removed her mask, and touched her face. In the mirror, her flushed eyes were visible.  

‘Why are you crying now, of all times…?’  

Even she hadn’t expected this.  

I see. So that’s how it is.

She hadn’t anticipated that a single calm remark—not a cold rebuke or a harsh rejection—would bring tears to her eyes.  

When she opened the box seat door and left him behind, Luca had been startled and tried to follow her. But no matter how close the imperial marriage was, borrowing the Crown Prince’s personal knight here was out of the question.  

• …I’m just going to the restroom for a moment, so don’t follow me.

Saying something so bluntly when it should have been phrased more delicately meant the knight couldn’t follow. It was an embarrassing thing for a lady to say, but in a way, she was relieved that there was no hand to hold her back.  

‘Aisha was right.’  

She gripped the tear-stained handkerchief tightly.  

‘It’s much more effective than trying to let go on my own, over and over again.’  

Had there ever been another moment when I had felt his indifference so keenly?  

After shedding plenty of tears, her chest felt hollow and empty. Of course, it wasn’t truly empty, but with a few more days of facing reality, she felt she could completely move on.  

Carnier raised her mask to cover her tear-streaked face. She hadn’t expected things to turn out this way, but she was glad she’d brought her mask. As long as she kept her voice steady, no one would suspect she had been crying.  

She had just composed herself and was leaving the powder room when—  

“…Take a look. Amazing, isn’t it?”  

“As expected, even the corridors are different where the nobles pass through.”  

As soon as she stepped out, she heard the voices of some men drunkenly climbing the stairs, their tone filled with mockery. The moment she heard their slurred voices, Carnier immediately turned around.  

Unfortunately, they had already noticed her.  

“Hey, over there…”  

“Whistle~”  

The unpleasant sound of whistling reached her ears, but Carnier paid them no mind. However, the men began to follow closely behind her.  

“Hey, Miss. How much do you charge in a place like this?”  

“Hey, hey, even if you ask, could you afford it?”  

“Didn’t I tell you I hit it big today? Hold on. Hey, Miss. Can’t you hear me?”  

…The security wasn’t bad, but the quality of the guests was another matter entirely. Carnier quickened her steps without a word.  

But today, she was wearing a dress with a narrow hem, and they quickly caught up to her.  

“Ah, hold on a second…!”  

Carnier swiftly dodged the voice coming from right behind her. The man who had been about to grab her arm stumbled and lost his balance. His disheveled suit reeked of alcohol and tobacco.  

“Ugh, am I drunk? Damn…”  

“What’s he doing, that guy?”  

The man who nearly fell and the others laughing at him were all clearly of poor character. Carnier frowned and turned away again.  

“Hey, Miss. What’s the rush, huh?”  

This time, her wrist was grabbed. In an instant, two more men approached and blocked her path.  

All of them had faces flushed red with intoxication and eyes that gleamed with lewd intent. She had seen drunken troublemakers from afar at parties before, but this was the first time she had been the target of such behavior.  

Carnier glared at them coldly.  

“…Let go.”  

“Oh, this lady has a bit of a husky voice, doesn’t she?”  

“Already had some fun, huh?”  

The damp grip on her bare skin was unpleasant. She tried to shake off his hand, but the man stubbornly held on, smirking as if it were some amusing game.  

Carnier’s eyes darted around. Perhaps because the performance had just started, there wasn’t a single person passing by.  

Moreover, she had deliberately chosen the powder room farthest from her box seat, making it impossible to immediately seek help from her companions.  

‘At this rate…’  

Rather than waiting helplessly for a staff member to pass by, it seemed quicker to kick between his legs, as her brother had once taught her. But as she prepared to lift her knee, she realized the narrow hem of her dress wasn’t suitable for such a move.  

‘It might tear…’  

And because she was wearing a mask, the men misinterpreted her hesitation. Their expressions grew even more lecherous.  

“Oh, right. I almost forgot.”  

The man holding her wrist rummaged through his pocket with his free hand. A crumpled wad of cash emerged.  

He waved it in front of Carnier’s face.  

“So, how much do I need to invite you? Huh?”  

“Ha…”  

It was becoming increasingly ridiculous. Being mistaken for someone else simply because she was alone, having money waved in her face as if prepaying for her services—  

“Hey, I’m putting everything I earned today on the table. Aren’t I generous?”  

“See? He’s a big spender. Miss, you hit the jackpot, huh? Hahaha.”  

And the group whistling as if this were some grand achievement.  

‘Wow…’  

Was this what it felt like to be so dumbfounded that you couldn’t even get angry?  

For the first time in her life, Carnier was being harassed like this. Her thoughts grew longer. 

Should I scream for help to summon a staff member, or should I reveal my identity using the family handkerchief I always carried?  

“Hey, stop playing hard to get. Do you know how rare it is to find a guy willing to spend this much before even getting a taste?”  

This…  

Behind her mask, Carnier’s eyes turned icy.  

‘…Who cares if the dress tears? Just kick him.’  

At that moment, the sound of footsteps echoed from behind.  

Hearing the approaching presence, Carnier paused her movement.  

‘If a staff member is here, there’s no need to resort to force…’  

But as the footsteps drew closer, a familiar scent wafted to her nose.  

‘Wait…?’  

Then, from behind her, a white hand reached out and grabbed the wrist of the man holding her.  

“Huh? And who are you—? Ow!”  

The man, who had been scowling at the unexpected interruption, suddenly let out a cry of pain. The hand that had stubbornly refused to let go of Carnier’s wrist fell away.  

With a sickening crack, the man’s wrist twisted, and his fingers spasmed. Yet even at that point, the white hand showed no signs of releasing its grip.  

“Ack! Let go! I said, let go! Argh…!”  

“H-Hey!”  

Finally, the startled group rushed forward, trying to pry the hand away. But before they could even touch him, the white hand released its grip. The man, who had been desperately trying to free his arm, fell backward, and the three men collapsed in a tangled, clumsy heap.  

“Ugh… Argh…”  

“Hey, are you okay?”  

“What the hell are you doing?! Are you crazy?!”  

The men shouted, but Servante, the owner of the white hand, didn’t even flinch. As if he had touched something filthy, he removed his white gloves and dropped them to the ground.  

Then, with eyes hardened behind his mask, he glared at the men.  

Carnier, who had been staring at him in bewilderment, parted her lips.  

“Y…”  

She reflexively almost addressed him as “Your Highness” but barely stopped herself. Since this was an unofficial outing, it wasn’t a title she could carelessly use.  

After a brief hesitation about how to address him, she finally whispered without using any title.  

“Let’s just leave.”  

“…”  

However, he remained standing, glaring at the drunken men. His fists, now bare, were clenched tightly, veins bulging.  

He didn’t utter a single word, yet the oppressive aura he exuded was overwhelming. Even in their drunken state, the men hesitated, a shiver running down their spines. The man whose wrist had been twisted raised his voice again.  

“Ugh… Do you even know who I am to dare do this…?!”  

“Bartolio Eseth.”  

“Yeah, you know me well… Huh? Wait, how do you know me?”  

At the cold utterance of his name, the man, Bartolio, blinked. Of course, his hazy, drunken vision didn’t suddenly clear.  

‘Eseth? That man is from the Eseth family?’  

Hearing the familiar surname used to address the stranger, Carnier tilted her head in confusion.  

Servante, who had instantly identified the man, muttered disdainfully.  

“It didn’t matter to me. Until just now.”  

“What?”  

“Pathetic.”  

He took a step forward. The sound of paper crumpling under his black shoe echoed.  

It was the wad of cash Bartolio had dropped earlier when he stumbled away.  

“A man who flaunts a few filthy scraps of paper.”  

“What? Filthy? Did you just call me that?!”  

Bartolio raised his fist as if ready to fight back. However, his stance was awkward, likely due to the lingering pain in his injured wrist.  

Though they seemed to have the advantage in numbers, they weren’t intimidating in the slightest.  

Carnier, instead of encouraging the situation, tugged on Servante’s arm.  

“I’m fine, so let’s go. Please?”  

Thanks to the men’s loud shouting, it wouldn’t be surprising if a crowd gathered soon. There was no need to draw excessive attention during an unofficial outing.  

But at her attempt to calm him, Servante turned sharply to look at her.  

“You’re fine? How can you say that…!”  

Then his gaze fell on her wrist, red and bruised against her pale skin. It stood out starkly.  

A low curse escaped his lips.