The tea and desserts served were of the finest quality, each piece demonstrating the care the Duke had taken in organizing the meeting. Everything was perfect.

Everything, that is, except Roselina, who sat beside the duke quietly sipping her tea.

‘That knight… sitting beside Lord Carlo as if she belongs there.’

Roselina didn’t even try to hide the venom in her gaze.

‘A woman wielding a sword—how vulgar.’

It infuriated her that this low-born knight was praised as a genius swordswoman, drawing admiration from every corner of society. What stung even more was that, even without a trace of makeup and clad in that plain uniform, Laila somehow looked beautiful.

‘I put in so much effort just to look perfect… and that woman—’

Roselina’s irritation flared as she took another sip of tea. Then Laila leaned forward slightly to set her teacup back on the table, and for a brief moment, the collar of her uniform slipped—revealing the pale curve of her neck.

‘What… what is that?’

A faint red mark lingered against her white skin—one unmistakably left by a man.

Roselina’s eyes darted toward Carlo.

Rage surged through her like fire, and no amount of composure could calm it.

‘Don’t tell me… with Lord Carlo?’

It was the terrifying intuition only a jealous woman could have.

Clatter!

“Roselina!”

The duke scolded her when she set her teacup down far too harshly, but her sharp gaze never left Laila.

“Are you all right?”

“…Ah, my hand slipped. My apologies.”

Carlo’s gentle voice made Roselina’s stomach twist. She wanted to demand the truth right then—wanted to ask if something had happened between them the night before. But under the duke’s stern, warning look, she could do nothing but bite her tongue.

‘How dare that low-born wench touch what’s mine… that filthy woman!’

The thought of Carlo holding another woman ignited both fury and dread in her chest. He had always been the one to chase her, to cling to her—and now, what if his heart had changed?

What if he left her for someone like Laila, who glowed effortlessly even without adornment?

‘No… I have to get rid of her.’

She was going to war, wasn’t she? Perfect.

‘If she dies out there, that will be the end of it.’

The duke’s smile widened with interest as his gaze shifted toward Laila.

“When did you first begin training with the sword, Dame Grant?”

“Six years ago—when I came to the Cerclezia Empire.”

“Ah, you came with Lord Carlo, then?”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

The duke nodded, clearly pleased. “Remarkable.” His grin deepened, satisfaction radiating from him. The atmosphere remained cordial—until Roselina spoke.

“And where is your family now, Dame Grant?”

“…”

“Roselina.”

“But Father, isn’t it only natural to ask? Don’t you wonder where her family is—what made her abandon them to follow Lord Carlo?”

The brief silence that followed was suffocating. Laila’s expression stiffened. Even the duke, who had started to chide his daughter, now waited for the answer with mild curiosity.

“My parents… have passed away.”

“Oh, I see.”

The duke murmured, his tone tinged with polite regret. But Roselina’s sharp, cutting voice rose above his, cutting Laila to the core.

“So, Lord Carlo took in a lowly orphan, did he?”

“…!”

Carlo’s eyes flashed dangerously, his mouth parting to speak—but the duke’s stern voice cut through the air first.

“Roselina! How dare you speak that way to the knight who has volunteered to fight for our house in such a perilous war? Apologize at once!”

“You want me, a noble lady, to apologize to a mere knight, Father?”

The fine silk of her dress crumpled in her trembling fists. Whether Laila went to war for the family’s sake or not didn’t matter to her—her pride would never allow her to bow to someone beneath her.

“A mere knight? Roselina, as the daughter of a noble house—! Have you no shame? Enough. Leave us.”

“Father!”

Tears welled in Roselina’s angry eyes, but the duke didn’t so much as glance at her. Such open humiliation was something she had never experienced before.

Without saying goodbye, Roselina turned on her heel and stormed out of the drawing room.

The duke watched her leave, sighing in exasperation, then hastily turned back to Laila.

“Please, don’t let her words trouble you.”

“I’m all right, Your Grace.”

Laila replied calmly.

And she meant it. Compared to the venom Roselina had spewed in the past, this was nothing. The opinions of someone so unimportant hardly mattered at all.

The duke looked visibly relieved, although it was clear that he was still afraid Laila might change her mind about the war.

“Truly admirable—a heart as noble as your skill. Hahaha.”

“I’ve simply been blessed with a good master.”

Laila replied, turning toward Carlo with a look of complete trust.

She could feel the duke’s keen attention fixed on her and knew this was the perfect chance to reinforce his faith in Carlo.

“Indeed. It seems Lord Carlo’s character is greater than I imagined.”

The plan was working. Just as Carlo had intended, the duke was beginning to think more highly of him.

After exchanging a few more polite remarks, they concluded their meeting and left the drawing room.

It was then that one of Roselina’s maids appeared and approached Carlo.

“My lady is waiting for you, my lord.”

Though they had expected it, the moment still soured the air.

Laila felt Carlo’s gaze beside her—it was the kind of look that once made her heart race, but right now, it only stung.

“Dame Grant, you may return to the residence ahead of me.”

“…Yes, my lord.”

She knew he couldn’t reject Roselina outright—not yet. Even so, her feet felt unbearably heavy as she turned to leave.

The thought clawed at Laila’s chest.

‘The same hands that held me last night… are they now holding Roselina? The same lips that whispered love to me… are they whispering it to her too?’

The jealousy and doubt that swelled inside her frightened her. How long could she keep enduring this before it broke her completely?

***

Meanwhile, Carlo couldn’t take his eyes off Laila’s retreating figure. He knew exactly how she must feel, walking away like that, and how much pain she would be holding back alone. Yet duty forced him towards Roselina’s chambers. The thought of it made his chest tighten.

‘I’ll make it quick.’

Pushing forward, Carlo entered Roselina’s room.

“My lady—”

Before he could finish, Roselina rushed at him, seizing his lips in a sudden, desperate kiss.

The unexpected *ssault startled him, but he couldn’t help finding it almost absurd. 

‘So her pride has finally cracked this much?’

She was the duke’s daughter—proud, elegant, the sort of noble lady whose dignity could rival even Princess Lenoa’s. Yet the woman clinging to him now was anything but composed.

“Please, calm yourself.”

Carlo said firmly, pushing her back with controlled strength. Her once-beautiful brow twisted with fury and humiliation.

“You’ll regret this later. You’re not sincere with me, are you?”

Carlo had already decided to end the relationship. As Laila had said, gaining the duke’s trust via Roselina would suffice.

Nevertheless, watching Roselina undress in front of him left him with a slight pang of regret. Women like that were easy to bend to his will when they were desperate. The thought that he might be able to exact his revenge all at once crowded into his mind.

“If you were sincere?”

“…”

The more she acted as if she would give everything for him, the more his appetite was whetted. Roselina looked as if she might even hand over her family’s position for him.

“Lord Carlo, you prefer me to that lowly knight, don’t you?!”

She demanded, almost pleading. Very earnestly.

‘A way to avoid using Laila…’

Having finished that thought, Carlo managed a wan smile and spoke.

“Laila is a rather important person to me. So… what answer should I give you?”

Roselina’s jealousy flared to its peak.

“Lord Carlo!!”

“Why do you look so hurt, my lady? You, who love the Crown Prince of Adelina far more than you love me.”

Her eyes flickered at his bitter tone. She had never hidden her feelings for Crown Prince Theodor because she believed that Carlo was already hers. Now, however, the situation had turned against her.

“T-That’s not—!”

“Laila is a woman who would do anything for me. But you, my lady—you never allowed me even the smallest hope. Loving you has become… exhausting.”

The man she had thought was securely hers was now ending things. The possibility of losing him—a thought she’d never even entertained—threw Roselina into panic. Just as Carlo had planned.

“Tell me, my lady. Could you do anything for me as Laila does?”

‘This is your last chance. Your final chance to step into my hands and move exactly as I wish.’

“Yes… I can.”

A satisfied smile curved his lips. Then he seized her and crushed his mouth against hers.

At that moment, the image of Laila — the woman who had once occupied every corner of his mind — was consumed by the flames of vengeance, leaving nothing behind.

He had despised his father for betraying his wife for another woman. Yet now, Carlo was committing the very same betrayal.

Blinded by the foolish belief that Laila would understand, he betrayed her without hesitation.

Unaware that his choice that night would one day torment him with unbearable regret, he pulled Roselina closer and surrendered to the kiss that would seal his downfall.