Chapter 2.1
Fragrant tea quietly filled an empty cup. Seated at a tea table set in an ornate garden was the Imperial Princess Rozalia, a woman of breathtaking beauty.
Her vivid red hair, the color of roses, swept softly down to the small of her back. Against her clean, peach-fair skin, the faint flush tinting her sharp eyes and cheeks gave her an air that was vibrant and strangely captivating at once.
The most expensive clothes and jewels in the empire adorned her, but before the sheer luminance of Rozalia herself, they might as well have been afterthoughts.
“How dare you be so late?”
She set her cup down with a small, disbelieving laugh.
A composed smile rested on her face, but the slight twitch of her eyebrow made it plain she was anything but pleased. The servants attending her exchanged silent glances.
The tranquil garden atmosphere had frozen over in an instant, and the maids and guards standing nearby tensed, never sure what impulsive thing an irritated princess might do next.
Then the footsteps that would save them all drew closer, offering relief.
With the soft sound of shoes pressing into grass, every eye in the garden turned to the figure that had just appeared.
The stiff anxiety that had gripped everyone only a moment before went slack. The charged atmosphere turned suddenly gentle.
Even the Princess, with her legs crossed, arms folded, stared blankly along with her maids, everyone caught on the same point like prey, as if they were all spellbound.
A figure rose above the well-trimmed hedgerows and moved steadily closer. It began with perfectly clean shoes, and all eyes traveled upward, slowly, along the man’s body.
A large coat draped his shoulders, its hem rippling gently as he moved briskly down the narrow garden path. The fitted black uniform beneath it was extravagantly adorned with gold trim and gemstones that caught the sun, but the moment anyone actually looked at his face, every glint of it lost its luster.
“…Oh.”
A sound of pure wonder slipped from parted lips. No one needed to worry about being overheard: the Princess’s short breath was swallowed entirely by the genuine, helpless sounds coming from every direction around her.
She didn’t notice her own expression going soft as she followed his movement.
“I’m terribly sorry to have kept you waiting.”
He had arrived at the empty seat across the table and bent his head in a courteous apology for wasting the Princess’s time.
The low, smooth voice sent a brief shiver through Rozalia before she could think. The dizzying rush of pleasure was immediately chased by a sharp spike of alarm that dragged her melting mind back into focus.
She turned away quickly, as if she hadn’t been staring at the man at all. She desperately hoped her face looked like the cold fury of a woman whose time had been wasted, but she already knew she’d failed. She could feel the heat in her own face without needing a mirror.
“… That’s fine. We are only here out of obligation anyway.”
She forced her voice into the flattest tone she could manage. The lofty dignity she’d maintained before his arrival was already in ruins, but mercifully, no one around her seemed to notice the sudden change. They were all staring at the man’s face with equally vacant expressions.
She understood them. After all, his beauty was that devastating.
“I was afraid you might have already left. I’m grateful you gave me another chance.”
“That’s fine. Will you just sit down?”
If she didn’t say something before he kept apologizing, he’d stand there in a permanent bow, so she waved him off in the most unimpressed manner she could manage. Though keeping the tremor out of her voice required every bit of will she had.
Despite her impatient, dismissive gesture, he sat in the chair across from her, smiling as though genuinely grateful.
His gaze drifted slowly to the maid who had been standing frozen, forgetting her task. Where it had been warm on Rozalia, his eyes went still, hardening for a brief moment. He gave a faint smile and tilted his gaze toward his empty cup. The way he directed people without a word was as natural as breathing, as comfortable with command as the Princess, who had ruled over others her entire life.
While his attention moved to the maid who now hurried to pour his tea, Rozalia stole a glance at the face she still couldn’t quite believe was real.
His fine hair shifted in the breeze, pale as untouched snow on a mountain peak no one had ever climbed, exuding a clean and dreamlike aura.
His pretty eyes curved gently when he smiled. The elegant line of his profile, where straight and curved met in perfect proportion. The easy smile resting on his lips made her feel almost awed.
Then there was the way he wore his clothes, the old-fashioned courtliness of his speech, the composure that bowed politely and still refused to be diminished. The unhurried ease of someone born with power in his hands.
“Since we’ve met again after so long, would it be all right to speak privately for a moment?”
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