The appointment ceremony was a lavish affair. Tolaite, a vast island nation surrounded by sea on all sides, boasted enormous deposits of raw ore and had accumulated considerable wealth through trade with neighboring countries.

The kingdom had also developed its advanced coastline into a renowned tourist destination. The gold veins alone that had surfaced so far were beyond measure, so it was only natural that the royal family held a grand appointment ceremony.

The grand banquet hall, decorated with all manner of jewels and brilliant flowers, made Aeril feel small—yet stirred in her an inexplicable excitement.

She felt submerged in a place saturated with fragrant paint. It was dazzling, like moving through a dream. It would have been, if only the Duke of Ronz had not occupied the seat beside her.

“Look forward.”

“Yes……”

The Duke spoke when he noticed Aeril’s gaze drifting elsewhere.

The ducal family’s seats were positioned closest to the royal family. It spoke volumes about the influence House Ronz held over Tolaite.

Below the platform, one more table had been set up apart from the Ronz table.

It remained empty even as the ceremony progressed, which struck her as odd—then the second prince, who had been standing on the platform, descended to the table.

He was Aquero Bruhail, who had received a grand duchy now that Lyden had become Crown Prince.

He bore a striking resemblance to His Majesty the King, with reddish-brown hair and emerald eyes. He took his seat with a blank expression and tipped his tall flute glass back repeatedly, his manner making clear he had no interest in how the ceremony unfolded.

At the sight of him, the Duke of Ronz let out a small click of his tongue.

Tsk.

He was a father who despised anything unbecoming of a noble.

Aeril, watching her father’s reaction, pulled her gaze from Aquero and fixed it on Lyden, who shone brilliantly on the platform.

The ornate crown the King had placed on Lyden’s head slid at an angle and covered part of his face.

Lyden burst out laughing and shrugged, pushing the crown—far too large for his head—back up.

Soft laughter rippled through the hall. Despite his sharp, sensitive-looking appearance, he had a way of drawing out a light atmosphere with ease.

Yet the moment he shed that playfulness, he carried himself with dignity, like he had never been any other way.

That was the very quality the Duke of Ronz had once praised in Lyden.

At the very least, Lyden Bruhail has somewhat more refinement than Aquero Bruhail.

His father had dared to make that assessment. Though Lyden would have found even that evaluation repulsive. He despised House Ronz.

“Let us rise as well.”

After the full order of proceedings in the grand banquet hall concluded, a procession followed immediately.

The final event of the day had Lyden making his way to the harbor, greeting the cheering people of Tolaite along the route.

Once that concluded and all the nobles boarded the large royal vessel, the real party would begin.

The royal family’s golden carriage set off first, and the nobles’ carriages followed in a long line behind it.

At the road leading out of the capital, the people split to either side and waved. Songs praising the royal family rang out and filled the streets.

Flags bearing the white lion, the symbol of Tolaite, fluttered in the wind, and handkerchiefs of every color swayed along with them.

Fully bloomed petals fell from all directions. Bright smiles bloomed on the faces of the crowd.

It was a peaceful and prosperous country. The Kingdom of Tolaite.

As long as one endured the brief cold snaps, the temperature stayed pleasant year-round. The royal family was wealthy enough on its own that it had no need to bleed its people dry. Viewed from a distance, no country could have seemed more perfect.

“Do not forget what you are here to do. Now that the Crown Prince has been decided, the time to bring in a Crown Princess will come soon.”

Outside, the streets buzzed with life—yet inside the ducal family’s black carriage, the air could not have been more stifling.

Aeril, who had been watching the streets through a small gap in the curtain, lowered her head quietly.

“I will keep it in mind.”

She answered the Duke, and Catherine crossed her arms and muttered.

“Dull as ever. I wonder if she can even manage what she’s told.”

The Duke furrowed his brow and fixed his gaze on Catherine.

Then he let out a sigh and turned his eyes to the carriage window. That was the one area where he could not bring himself to rebuke Catherine sharply.

Young Lord Diovan Ronz, who was the spitting image of the Duke, simply sat reading a book through all of this. He treated Aeril like she did not exist.

With only a slight exaggeration, the number of times Diovan and she had exchanged words was fewer than the number of times they had held hands.

They had no choice but to hold hands when attending formal events, under the guise of an escort. That, too, was something the Duke had ordered.

“……”

“……”

And so, each carrying their own discomfort, they rode in silence as the carriage glided smoothly toward the harbor.

Aeril, who had barely been able to breathe with the corset Catherine had laced as tight as it would go, let a faint smile cross her lips at the familiar scent of the sea.

The Duke stepped out of the carriage and immediately disappeared into conversation with other members of the noble faction. Catherine was boarding the ship, surrounded by noblewomen attending to her every need.

Diovan, who had stepped out after Aeril, had long since vanished somewhere.

“Lady Ronz.”

Aeril was quickening her pace to avoid falling too far behind the procession when a languid, unfamiliar voice came from directly behind her. She startled and missed her footing.

“Careful.”

It was Aquero who caught her stumbling arm.

Aeril’s flustered gaze landed on him. She straightened up at once and bowed her head.

“I apologize, Your Highness…… no, Your Grace.”

She had thought it the appropriate title for him, now that he had received a grand duchy.

But Aquero’s expression was not a pleasant one. His displeasure showed plainly in his breath. A short, hollow laugh escaped him, and with it, a thick wave of alcohol hit her.

“Your Grace……”

“……”

“That sounds rather strange.”

The grip of the hand holding Aeril’s arm tightened.

The sudden pressure made Aeril squint without thinking, and Aquero twisted the corner of his mouth into a smile.

“My Lady. It seems you’ve been left on your own.”

He kept his eyes on Aeril and pulled the other corner of his mouth up as well.

“Come along with me. The steps are steep, after all.”

Just as he said, the gangway set up for boarding grew steeper the higher it went.

Aeril’s gaze, which had been on the steps, shifted to Aquero.

“Ah. I……”

She let her words trail off and glanced around.

She feared the Duke and his wife might spot her.

The eyes of the other nobles also weighed on her.

The person she was supposed to draw closer to today was Lyden, not Aquero. Speaking with Lyden was what she had been tasked to do……

Aeril recalled the insults Catherine had hurled at her one night, stumbling drunk into her room.

She had asked why Aeril thought she kept her locked away in a corner.

— It’s because your mother was loose. A skirt ought to be just light enough.

— ……

— Do you know why your mother died?

Catherine had drawn a long drag from her thin cigarette and blew the smoke into Aeril’s face. Through the haze of smoke drifting between them, Catherine held her gaze and clicked her tongue.

— Ah…… I feel dizzy.

She pressed a hand to her forehead as she said it, then rose from the sofa. She looked Aeril up and down, studying her body and face like she was appraising livestock, and shook her head.

— Filthy girl. You have the same filthy blood as your mother running through you. But aren’t you lucky? Your mother ended up the way she did, but you have someone to keep you in line. Spend your whole life being grateful. Spend your whole life as a sinner. Understood?

Catherine had walked out of the room without waiting for an answer. Aeril opened the window to clear the heavy smell of cigarette smoke that lingered in the bedroom.

Even after that night, Catherine had come back countless times to degrade both Edelin and her.

And yet.

At the time, Aeril had dismissed it as Catherine venting her anger, as nothing more than drunken raving, and let it go in one ear and out the other.

But now, did this not make Catherine’s words come true? That filthy blood ran through her veins, and that she was loose enough to draw any man to her side.

That was what Aeril feared.

It was not the slaps and beatings she received in secret that frightened her—it was the dread that Catherine’s words might become the truth.

Aeril had gone rigid, and Aquero gave her waist a light pull.

“W—wait just a moment……!”

She had no way to push a royal away and stood helpless when someone stepped in to stop him.

“Your Highness. It appears you have had quite a lot to drink.”

He seemed to be Aquero’s aide. The man made a quiet appeal to his superior and bowed respectfully.

“…… Paul.”

Aquero called the aide by his nickname and removed his hand from Aeril’s waist.

Then he extended his arm with more composure than before.

“I am drunk, that much is true.”

Aquero, who had glanced briefly toward Pascol, turned back to Aeril and spoke.

“But is it not acceptable to drink a little on a joyful day like today, my lady? And I meant it sincerely—the steps are dangerous, and I would like to escort you.”

Beneath his curved eyes, a deep shade of green settled.

Aeril held Aquero’s gaze for a brief moment, then turned her head toward the aide.

“……”

“……”

It was a look that asked her to go along with at least this much.

The aide dropped his gaze, and Aeril bit the inside of her lip without letting it show.

She pushed down her unease and placed her hand on Aquero’s arm.

“Hold on properly.”

Aquero drew her awkwardly placed hand in close.

His action flustered Aeril even more.

Her heart pounded so hard she thought it might leap out of her chest.

She hoped no one would see her like this. She hoped Catherine, wherever she was beyond the crowd, and Catherine’s close friends would not recognize her. She hoped she could blend into the crowd and make it back to her room just like this.

“Why are you so frightened? I am not about to do anything to you, my Lady.”

Aeril’s pale hand, resting on Aquero’s arm, trembled visibly. Her forehead was already damp with cold sweat.