Chapter 14
“Charlotte.”
The gentle call of the name erased Christine’s voice. Everyone’s gaze shifted to the owner of the voice.
“I hope I haven’t interrupted your conversation, ladies. I just managed to escape from a tedious political discussion, so I hope you’ll be kind to me.”
Duke Deimos said, crossing his arms with Princess Charlotte, flashing a smile toward the ladies.
“Oh, welcome. We’re always glad to see you, Your Grace. Politics can be so dull,” one of the women laughed as she spoke.
“By the way, there must be a big celebration in your family,” another added.
“A celebration?”
The other ladies were excited, chattering.
“Your brother is the ambassador to Arsen, right? I’ve heard that Deimos’s daughter is almost certain to become the Princess of Arsen.”
The Princess of Arsen didn’t add anything, only nodding in agreement.
“Oh my, really! Congratulations!”
The attention quickly shifted away from Christine, who was the topic earlier, toward Cecilia Deimos, the future Princess of Arsen.
“Such glory for Bern and the glory of Veloph. Soon we’ll hear wonderful news,” the Duke said, looking at his daughter with what seemed like the most precious gaze. It was a truly affectionate look.
Christine gazed at Cecilia, who was surrounded by things she could never have, and feelings she couldn’t grasp, and an inexplicable sadness descended like a cold rain.
She had never lived a life so fragile as to be hurt by meaningless words from a naive rich girl, but the remarks of the prima donna from the Royal Opera House made the situation different.
She couldn’t help but feel it.
Suddenly, she noticed the cold wind brushing her cheek, and when she realized it, she had stopped on the outdoor stairs leading to the grand garden.
The night had grown deeper.
She’d probably get scolded by Maria.
But she was too tired to worry about such things. Fatigue swept over her like a high wave.
“Her singing was a bit immature, though.”
The careless words she had said earlier seemed to mock her, making her chest tighten with a cold shiver.
She had never been weak enough to be hurt by such remarks, but hearing them from the prima donna was different. She wasn’t a classical singer, after all.
“You could’ve done better…”
The frustration weighed heavily on her heart when the sound of footsteps descending the stairs broke the deep silence of the winter night.
The slow, relaxed footsteps stopped the moment Christine turned around.
The woman was staring blankly at the sky.
The wind swirling around the snow-covered garden swept around her for a moment, and her black hair scattered in all directions as she turned.
Her white neck, like porcelain, and the way her hand grasped her dress, as if trying to escape, conveyed her unease.
Arthur, who had been moving closer, locked eyes with her.
Once they stepped into the light of the stone lantern, the woman’s lips parted weakly. Her eyes were red.
Had she been crying?
Arthur observed her with curiosity.
Christine felt like her mind was blanking out.
The wintery blue eyes of the prince, dressed in his formal attire, shone coldly like the dazzling winter sky. His gaze was deep, almost as if he were staring into a lake. She couldn’t stop looking at him.
‘Didn’t Count Guno mention that the prince had mentioned your name today?’
Why her…?
As she gazed up at the prince in a daze, the sound of a bell from the clock tower startled her, making her lower her back and bow.
“I beg your pardon, Your Highness. Please have mercy.”
Her words were blunt, the cold making her speech rough, reminding her of the mistake she had made earlier. Her once cold cheeks felt hot now.
“That was an impressive performance, Miss Faledon,” the prince said, his voice as soft as a spring day. His voice was wrapped in the sweet scent of gardenias. The scene reminded her of the day he handed her flowers in the hospital courtyard.
“…It’s an honor, Your Highness.”
“You’re trembling. Why are you out here in the cold?”
Her delicate shoulders shook as she turned toward him, surprised by the question. The moonlight flowing over her shoulder gave her an ethereal look.
Arthur unbuttoned his jacket, slowly draping it over her shoulders.
“No, Your Highness. I’m fine.”
“You seem to catch colds often.”
As Christine backed away, she stumbled over the step. Her face flushed with embarrassment. She had been caught singing at the hospital, so the prince’s teasing felt a little too personal.
“Weren’t you curious?” he asked suddenly.
“…?”
Her eyes met his, and the streetlamps lit up his eyes, which became softer for a brief moment.
“Why it was you, Miss Faledon.”
Christine blinked slowly, trying to process the question. She didn’t understand what the prince meant by it. Music from the ballroom could be heard faintly in the distance, adding to the mystery between them.
‘Did he know? That the prince might have fallen for you after watching your performance?’
Could it be?
Her heart raced.
“I’m not sure, Your Highness.”
Her words were calm, though her heart was beating unusually fast. It wasn’t a bad feeling, though. It felt strangely pleasant, like the scent of gardenias.
“What is your relationship with Duke Deimos? I think I should hear it directly from you.”
“…”
Her breath caught in her throat.
Christine felt dizzy, struggling to breathe.
Focus.
She closed her fluttering eyelids and took a deep breath before calmly speaking again.
“I don’t quite understand your question, Your Highness.”
Arthur tilted his head, gazing deeply into her eyes as if trying to peer into her soul. The distance between them seemed too close, the scent of cinnamon, gardenia, and his own cologne overwhelming her senses.
“Money changed hands between you two.”
He looked down at her neck, where the silver chain with an emerald surrounded by diamonds shimmered in the moonlight.
Christine looked down at where he was gazing, feeling something precious against her skin. A delicate chain, something not fit for an unknown opera singer. She didn’t want to discuss her relationship with the Duke, as it felt too personal.
“Have you been investigating me?” she asked, her voice trembling.
“My interest wasn’t in you, Miss Faledon. I just came to know a little about you.”
Christine finally understood what was going on, and her face flushed with embarrassment. She waited, hoping the awkward silence would pass.
“It’s not what you think, Your Highness. It’s not an improper relationship.”
“It’s not an improper relationship? Then what is it?”
Arthur’s gaze became sharper as he probed.
Christine had once foolishly hoped the prince had invited her out because of their past meeting at the hospital, but she realized that was not the case.
She felt embarrassed for having entertained such thoughts.
The cold winter wind brushed across her burning face, cooling the heat.
