Angela Bilton was only ten years old when she first met Kalian Florence and fell into a lifelong fever that would never subside.
Nowadays, only minor border skirmishes occurred due to the ambiguous national borders that had expanded significantly. However, just a few years ago, Phaelon had been engaged in continuous conquest wars to expand its territory.
Because of this, Dominic, a key figure in the military, frequently had to leave for campaigns. These expeditions were what ultimately made Dominic the true power behind Phaelon.
In the world Angela grew up in, Dominic wore armor more often than casual clothing. He would leave, leading his troops into battle, and return one day with countless spoils of war.
That day was just another of many such days. Dominic had led the family’s private soldiers to a battlefield where their forces had been at a disadvantage. Naturally, he returned victorious, bringing news of his triumph.
But that day, something different had unsettled Angela. Dominic had returned from his victory march with a strange boy in tow—positioned directly behind him, no less.
Standing behind Dominic in a victory procession was an honor. Only those who had accomplished extraordinary feats in battle could stand there and share in the applause.
“They say he held the line until reinforcements arrived.”
“He drove a longsword straight into an enemy’s vital point, a sword that even full-grown adults struggle to wield properly!”
“He tied his sword to his hand so he wouldn’t drop it.”
“Even with corpses piling up around him, he kept fighting, stepping over the bodies.”
“Can you believe he’s just a twelve-year-old mercenary? What bravery!”
Hearing the maids gossiping amongst themselves, Angela scowled deeply. She didn’t welcome the idea of another child Dominic would dote on, not after Beatrice.
She even suspected that Dominic might be deceiving everyone and had brought home another of his illegitimate children.
Angela, who bore no resemblance to Dominic—unlike Grace, who she was her spitting image— .
she clenched her small fists tightly. If that boy looked even slightly like Dominic, she wouldn’t stand for it.
But when she finally laid eyes on the boy, all those concerns vanished. When the maid pointed and said, “That’s him.” Angela turned her head and felt as though she had been struck by lightning.
A sun shining in the dead of night.
That was how Angela defined the boy. His wild, unkempt hair, his sharp and raw eyes, his entire presence—he was the likeness of the dark night. And yet, he was dazzling.
Unconsciously, Angela swallowed hard. Then, like a fool, she choked on her own breath and coughed violently.
At that moment, the boy’s black eyes turned toward her. He had been standing motionless without expression, but the moment he took a step forward, Angela’s coughing fit worsened.
“Are you alright?”
The boy approached and handed her a cup of water. His voice, steady and devoid of intonation, suited him well. she thought he would sound like that, Angela mused, holding the cup but not drinking. Before she realized it, her coughing had stopped.
“I suppose… it was wrong after all?”
Suddenly, the boy muttered an incomprehensible question.
“What?” Angela asked, puzzled.
He hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Well… I’ve never learned proper etiquette. But in this mansion, whatever I do, I keep hearing that it’s wrong. I thought… maybe speaking first to someone of higher status was another thing I wasn’t supposed to do.”
His expression was entirely serious. Angela blinked in surprise, momentarily unable to respond.
Indeed, in a proper noble setting, it was unacceptable for someone of lower status to speak first to their superior. They had to wait until spoken to, even if it meant never exchanging a single word. That was just how status worked.
But Angela only realized, after he pointed it out, that his action had been improper. It hadn’t bothered her at all.
Angela, who had long since severed any connection to tolerance, was startled by herself.
They stood staring at each other, their expressions blank, until Angela suddenly burst into laughter. The boy’s face turned red.
“You’re the young mercenary Father brought home, aren’t you? I’m Angela Bilton.”
She introduced herself, extending her hand with the back facing up—an invitation for a respectful kiss. But the boy merely looked back and forth between her white hand and her face, not understanding.
“Ah, right. You said you didn’t know etiquette.”
Angela withdrew her hand, not sounding disappointed, yet the boy’s face turned an even deeper shade of red.
Seeing his flushed ears, Angela smiled brightly and held her hand out to him again.
“You just have to take my fingertips and kiss them.”
“K-Kiss them?”
“Yes, very gently.”
“…Alright.”
With a bewildered expression, the boy hesitantly took Angela’s fingertips.
Though young, he was a mercenary who had fought on the battlefield. His touch was rough. But it wasn’t unpleasant. If anything, she wanted to grip his hand tighter.
However…
His face was far too close.
Huh? Huh? Huh?
Thinking she must be imagining it, Angela tightly shut and reopened her eyes—only for something soft to press against her lips.
By the time she realized what had just happened, the cup in her other hand had slipped and shattered against the floor.
The Bilton estate’s banquet hall fell into absolute silence.
The maids gasped and covered their mouths. The knights, who had been enjoying their meal, froze like statues.
It was Angela’s first kiss.
Before long, the boy was dragged out of the hall, bound at the arms, for the crime of daring to defile the young lady of House Bilton.
Angela, still in shock, watched as the nameless boy was taken away. She could only absentmindedly touch her lips, where his kiss had landed.
And so, her first kiss ended in chaos.
By the time Angela snapped out of it and went to look for the boy to resolve the situation, he had been locked away deep in the Bilton estate’s dungeon.
The air was grim, as if he were about to be tortured. Sitting against the wall with his knees drawn up, the boy had buried his face between his legs.
“Hey.”
Angela pressed herself against the iron bars, calling out to the slumped figure. His head shot up instantly.
For someone who had supposedly been fearless on the battlefield, he certainly seemed terrified of imprisonment. His eyes, staring at Angela, were rimmed red.
“I-I was just doing what you told me…”
Before he could voice his resentment any further, Angela shushed him.
Then, with exaggerated clarity, she kissed the back of her own hand.
“Like this.”
“….”
“That’s what I meant.”
The boy’s eyes widened impossibly. Angela, enjoying his naive reaction, added:
“You stole my first kiss. That means you have to take responsibility.”
“H-How…?”
“Hmm. What should I make you do?”
The boy visibly shrank, afraid she might demand he remain imprisoned or tortured. Angela smirked and called for the guard.
“I’ll decide later how you’ll take responsibility. It won’t be cheap. I can’t let my first kiss be worthless.”
After ordering the guard to bring the dungeon key, Angela leaned closer to the bars.
“Do you remember my name?”
“…Angela Bilton, you said.”
“And you? What’s your name?”
“Kalian.”
“Kalian.”
Angela repeated the boy’s name, murmuring it under her breath. A faint smile curved her lips as she slid her white hand through the gap in the iron bars.
Kalian gazed at Angela for a moment before crawling forward on his knees. He pressed his lips to her hand and quietly whispered:
“Angela.”
From that day on, in exchange for the kiss, Angela commanded Kalian to become her knight once she came of age. Kalian swore to be her sword and shield, to protect her.
But despite the promising start, their relationship soon fractured.
The oath shattered, leaving only wounds behind. Kalian had quickly realized Angela’s twisted nature.
Angela would never forget the look in Kalian’s eyes, distorted by disappointment.
“I thought… you were a good person.”
“….”
“You treated someone as insignificant as me with kindness, made me feel like I was dreaming… So I thought… you were a good person…”
That was the moment the sun in his world dimmed for the first time.
“I never truly knew you, Angela.”
‘Angela’ became ‘Lady Angela.’
And at some point, she became ‘The Young Lady of House Bilton.’
Angela remained where she was, but Kalian took a step back. Then another.
The promise that he would become her knight after her coming-of-age ceremony was quietly erased.
Kalian drifted further and further away, as if ensuring he would never be caught again.
And yet… despite all that…
For the entire week of Grace Bilton’s funeral, Kalian never left Angela’s side.
He never spoke words of comfort, but his presence behind her was unyielding. As if telling her she could fall apart, because he would hold her up.
That only made her want him more.
She coveted him.
She wanted to claim him as her own, no matter what.
It was when she was completely consumed by this obsession that Dominic, who hadn’t shed a single tear for his wife’s death, came to her room.
It was the day Grace Bilton’s funeral ended—a rare and unprecedented visit.
His entrance, without so much as a knock, made it clear that he hadn’t come to mourn with her.
“Shall I bring tea?”
“Sign this.”
They spoke at the same time, their words clashing.
Angela flinched, while Dominic, utterly indifferent, continued without hesitation.
“I brought an offer you won’t be able to resist. It’s not a bad deal.”
What he presented to his grieving daughter was a legal document acknowledging one of his illegitimate children.
There wasn’t even a pretense of remorse as he pressured her to sign.
A man who had been a terrible husband was also proving to be a terrible father.
But the way he laid out an enticing offer, ensuring his bargaining partner would bite, was exactly what made him a central figure in the Phaelon Empire’s power structure.
“I know what you want.”
“Impressive. You know what I want, even when I don’t. What could possibly make me give up my position as the only heir of House Bilton?”
“Kalian Florence.”
Angela had been prepared to mock him, but those two words robbed her of speech.
“You won’t tell me I’m wrong, will you?”
“…”
“Just sign here. I’ll let you have him to your heart’s content.”
Dominic, confident and self-assured, pushed the thick stack of documents into her hands.
Angela stared at the papers, not even bothering to read them.
Kalian’s face overlapped with the dense text.
Her hesitation didn’t last long.
That sleepless night, under the dim glow of dawn, Angela signed the document Dominic had left behind.
Her hand trembled slightly, but the finished signature bore no trace of hesitation.
As she stared at the document, now made official by her signature, she felt a rush of exhilaration.
The internal conflict that had plagued her, the lingering doubts that had refused to fade, disappeared like raindrops washing away dust.
She couldn’t even recall what she had weighed against each other on the scales of her decision.
All that mattered was the future she envisioned—Kalian standing beside her, always at her side.
How Kalian felt about their engagement was irrelevant.
Even so… even if it wasn’t an engagement of his own choosing…
Did he really have to be this cold to his fiancée?
As she traced back the history between them, Angela snapped back to the present and shot a glare at Kalian.
After properly paying his respects to Dominic and Yvonne, and exchanging polite eye contact with Beatrice, Kalian refused to even glance at Angela.
It was infuriating.
He looked far too good in that deep blue tailcoat, drawing her gaze despite herself.
And that gentle expression he wore for everyone else—it made her heart race in the most frustrating way.
Angela was about to say something, anything to get his attention, when—
“Oh my goodness!”
“Hiiik!”
A commotion erupted, cutting her off.
“Just how much is all of that worth?!”
It was because of the gift Kalian had prepared.
Four robust servants struggled to carry in a massive mahogany chest.
Inside, along with gold ingots, were an array of items crafted from solid gold. Among them were several pieces of remarkable artistic value.
Two years ago, a large gold mine had been discovered in his territory. Clearly, that discovery had been put to good use.
The gasps of admiration came from every corner.
“As expected of Count Florence.”
“Well, he’ll soon be the son-in-law of this household. I suppose it’s no loss to him.”
“True. In the end, it all goes back into his own pocket.”
“Still, to offer such a fortune—impressive indeed.”
The banquet hall buzzed with excitement, even more than when Angela had first entered.
The nobleman scheduled to present his gift after Kalian was staring in dismay. He had prepared something far from modest, yet no matter what it was, it would inevitably pale in comparison.
And yet, even he couldn’t help but admire Kalian’s extravagant gesture.
Among the many voices marveling at Kalian’s generosity, Angela alone felt something entirely different.
“Ha…”
A quiet, bitter laugh escaped her lips.
The man who had never given her so much as a trinket throughout their long engagement had now prepared a treasure trove of riches.
It spoke volumes about how Kalian truly saw his fiancée.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ✧: *. ꕥ .* :✧ﾟ. ───
