The beat of the drums announcing the awards ceremony echoed faintly through the thick canvas of the tent. Once the winner of this year’s hunt had been announced, a banquet would be held in a hall at a nearby estate.

‘If only I could return straight to the manor instead.’

She let out a long sigh, but stopped herself just in time.

This time, Damian wouldn’t be there for her. Even if she got into trouble, he wouldn’t help her. Whatever happened in the banquet hall, she would have to endure it alone.

Suddenly, Bel became acutely aware of her clothes, as though they did not belong to her.

Even a ten-year-old noble girl would cope better than she could. This made her feel not only inadequate, but also painfully small.

Should she pretend to be ill?

Unlike the wedding reception, this banquet was being held in honor of the knights who had taken part in the hunt. Her absence would inconvenience no one.

As she quietly considered how to excuse herself without attracting attention, she heard the faint sound of the tent flap being drawn aside.

“What are you doing here?”

Bel, who had tensed at the thought that it might be Damian, relaxed in relief when she realized it was Sophia.

“I—I don’t feel well. I think I should rest…”

How, exactly, did one become skilled at lying? Even that single sentence made her hesitate, pricked by her conscience.

“Let’s go to the plaza first. His Highness has won this year’s competition.”

Sophia seemed only half-listening as she urged Bel forward.

Startled, Bel dug her heels in slightly and called out.

“Wait, Sophia!”

Under normal circumstances, she would have celebrated his victory wholeheartedly. But now, the news felt strangely unwelcome.

He would not be expecting her congratulations. In fact, she would be lucky if he didn’t simply ignore her.

Bel shook her head.

“I—I don’t think I need to go. His Highness wouldn’t want me there…”

“What are you saying? His Highness asked for you.”

Bel’s eyes widened in shock. She repeated the words to be certain she had heard correctly.

“M-me? Truly?”

“Yes. Everyone in the plaza is waiting for you.”

“Why?”

Why was he waiting for her?

Fear rose before anything else.

Sophia spoke as though the answer were obvious, her tone faintly reproachful. She seemed to truly believe that Bel was pretending to be ignorant.

“Isn’t it customary? The winner chooses a lady to dedicate the honor of victory to. That lady becomes the queen of the hunt.”

This made even less sense.

There was no reason for him to bestow such an honor upon her.

Yet Bel found that she had no excuse left to refuse. So she allowed Sophia to guide her towards the plaza.

As they approached, the hum of voices grew louder and louder, swelling into a restless murmur. Bel forced herself not to shrink back, taking each step deliberately and carefully.

Sophia came to an abrupt halt, and Bel stopped beside her. A moment later, the maid gently removed her hand from Bel’s arm.

Bel instinctively wanted to reach for her again, but Sophia had already stepped away.

Should she simply stand there?

She stood rigidly, uncertain what to do. Fragments of conversation drifted past her, but she could not make sense of them. She had no idea what was happening around her.

A faint breeze brushed against her.

Bel raised a hand to steady her veil and strained to listen.

Footsteps.

Heavy. Measured. The firm tread of boots striking the ground, accompanied by the faint rasp of metal brushing against itself, drew closer until they stopped directly in front of her.

Her palm tightened around her cane, damp with sweat.

Something was placed gently on her head.

Although she knew it could not possibly be that loud, she was sure her racing heartbeat must be echoing for all to hear.

“I dedicate the honor of victory to you.”

One of her hands, which was still gripping the cane, was taken.

She flinched in surprise, but Damian did not pause. He pulled her hand towards him.

She felt a warm touch on the back of her hand.

Her heart thundered. Her breath shortened.

‘There must be a reason. Everyone is watching. He has no choice.’

Her mind tried to reason it away.

But her body betrayed her. It responded in a way that she could not deny.

She still wanted him.

Fortunately, he quickly pulled away.

Yet he did not let go of her hand.

Applause erupted around them.

Unable to tell whether she was dreaming or awake, Bel stood dazed until she heard a scoff.

Damian’s lips curved into a cruel smile.

“Do not misunderstand.”

The scent that had surrounded Bel disappeared. The warmth surrounding her hand disappeared just as quickly. The pounding in her heart stopped, leaving her feeling cold.

She was left alone.

***

The banquet unfolded as planned.

Damian sat beside the Emperor and held a courteous conversation with him. The Emperor seemed slightly curious about Bel’s absence, but when Damian offered no explanation, he did not pursue the matter.

Bel had excused herself on health grounds. Damian knew this was a lie, yet he felt no inclination to expose her or force her to attend against her will.

Gradually, the mood in the hall became more lively. Laughter rose and wine flowed freely. Although Damian was already tired of it, the Emperor continued to refill his cup, seemingly unwilling to let him leave.

It was only when the Emperor’s mistress approached that Damian was finally released.

“Ha…”

The breath he released felt warm against the night air. Although he could usually drink a lot, the succession of strong drinks had left him feeling slightly light-headed, with a faint warmth spreading through his body.

He was neither drunk nor had he lost his senses. All he needed was a glass of water and a few moments of rest.

Having never cared for the banquet in the first place, Damian excused himself as soon as he could and returned to his tent, despite the Emperor’s reluctance to let him go.

Silence greeted him when he stepped inside.

His golden gaze swept across the interior.

She was not there.

She had said she was unwell to avoid the banquet, so where was she?

He had assumed she would stay in the tent. There were few places Bel could go. For a blind woman, almost nowhere.

What was she plotting now?

This thought had occurred to him the moment he realized she was absent.

Since finding out that she had deceived him, he had not trusted her for a moment. Too much had happened between them for that.

He stepped back outside.

If she was planning something, it would be better to stop it before it began.

Just as he started to search for her, he sensed someone nearby.

“M-master?”

Sophia stared at him, clearly startled to find him there.

His gaze shifted past her, scanning the area, then darkened.

“Where is she?”

“Pardon?”

For a moment, Sophia did not understand whom he meant. But when she took in his expression, she realized—and her own face paled.

“Did she not come with you?”

“What do you mean?”

“His Highness Fabian escorted her earlier. He said you had summoned her…”

Sophia faltered, unable to finish, when she saw the hardness deepen in Damian’s face. A chill ran down her spine.

Only then did she realize that she had made a grave mistake.

Damian had assigned a maid to Bel’s side not out of consideration for her blindness, but to keep watch and prevent her from doing anything foolish.

Yet now, the maid did not even know where her mistress was.

She had failed in her duty.

“Where is the Crown Prince now?”

Sophia straightened instinctively, swallowing.

Damian towered over her, casting a long shadow.

“Behind—behind the banquet hall.”

Before her words had fully settled, Damian had already begun to move.

As he passed her, he spoke without looking back.

“I will deal with you when I return.”

Sophia closed her eyes and swallowed the sound rising in her throat.

***

She should never have trusted him.

Bel sat in a daze, turning the object over and over again in her hands.

While she had been quietly passing the time inside the tent, Fabian had suddenly appeared. Perhaps it was his exalted status, or perhaps it was the string of questionable actions he had taken, but there was something about him that had made her uneasy from the outset. She had tried not to follow him. Yet when he told her that Damian was looking for her, she had no choice but to go.

And yet—

—Damian was not there.

As Bel stood there, frozen with disbelief, Fabian responded with shameless ease, saying that she would never have come if he hadn’t used such an excuse. Then, as if it were nothing, he pressed a gift into her hand and walked away.

What had he said it was?

She traced its shape once more with her fingertips.

A bracelet carved from elk antler, he said. Perhaps there was a small emerald set at its center. From the tone of his voice alone, she could tell that it was valuable. He said that he had wanted to dedicate his hunting victory to her, but unfortunately hadn’t been able to. Instead, he had given her this.

But why give it to her?

Why?

What could the Crown Prince possibly be lacking that would make him pay attention to her?

What did she mean to him?

Lost in her thoughts, Bel came to a single, unsettling conclusion.

Perhaps Fabian had once harbored feelings for Isabel.

And if those feelings had never truly disappeared—

—then it was, at the very least, a plausible explanation. There was the way he had leaned in close to speak of delicate bonds, and the gift he had given her. If he loved Isabel, his actions would make sense.

Anyone would laugh at the suggestion that the noble Crown Prince might pine for the daughter of an insignificant baron.

But if that young lady was Isabel, the woman who had once captivated a Grand Duke, then the story changed entirely.

Bel felt a heavy weight settle in her chest.

Not only because it forced her to confront the vast gulf between herself and the real Isabel once again,

— but also because she realized that she was deceiving him, albeit unintentionally.

Yet she could not confess that she was a fake Isabel.

All she could do was stay out of his sight for as long as possible — perhaps long enough for his feelings to fade on their own.

‘There is no need to worry too much.’

Out of sight, out of mind.

They wouldn’t see each other again for a while. Besides, there were countless other women who were far more suited to standing at his side. Any affection he felt for her would surely fade sooner than she expected.

In truth, Bel was in no position to worry about anyone else’s feelings.

Clinging to the hope that Fabian’s feelings would fade on their own, she waited quietly for Sophia.

He had originally offered to escort her back to the tent himself, but she had refused. She did not want to be seen alone with him. Instead, she had asked him to send for Sophia.

So why had the maid not arrived yet?

As the wait continued, an uneasy feeling crept into her chest. Had Sophia lost her way?

She could not stand there forever.

Bel cautiously stepped forward.

At that very moment, someone turned the corner without warning—

—and collided straight into her.