Chapter 1
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Prologue.
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The Principality’s lovely May day was dazzling.
The fragrance of fully bloomed flowers dyed the entire city, and even the fallen petals adorned the streets, a season of romance.
Among them all, the capital’s temple was under patronage for the claim that lilacs were especially beautiful.
Beneath the profusion of violet blossoms, a young knight stood, dressed in the white ceremonial uniform of the Chivalric Order of Saint Benignus. The beautiful youth looked like a divine messenger blessed by spring itself.
His refreshingly tall stature and the solid physique honed through life in the knightage added even a sense of oppression to his already distinct presence, yet what truly captured people’s attention lay elsewhere.
Hair like golden thread gleaming under the baptism of sunlight, and mysterious violet eyes.
The young man was such a handsome beauty that even the spring flowers seemed ready to hide their faces in shame.
Skin as fair as fresh snow, a masculine yet delicate bone structure, and flawless features all came together in perfect harmony.
The man, born with an appearance so outstanding that many called him the incarnation of an angel, was also famous for both that dazzling beauty and his merciless swordsmanship. He was the deputy commander of the Chivalric Order of Saint Benignus, Bjorn Schmidt.
And the one who held him there, standing like a painting, was…
“Sir Schmidt, I have something to say.”
It was Leila, the young lady of the Bailey Countdom, whose name was just as widely whispered throughout high society in the capital.
If there was a difference between them, it was that her fame was somewhat dishonorable.
“I am listening, Miss Bailey. Please speak.”
Leila Bailey had long harbored unrequited feelings for Bjorn Schmidt. For a very long time, so conspicuously that it was rare to find someone who didn’t know of her one sided affection.
Thus, the sight of Leila gazing at Bjorn with reverence through thick glasses like those worn by temple scribes wasn’t even noteworthy enough to become common gossip.
And the expression on his face as he looked down at her was somewhat weary.
Unlike usual, Leila’s face looked as if she had steeled herself for something, to the point of seeming almost resolute, yet he could roughly predict what words would come from her mouth.
“I like you, sir. I have, for a very long time.”
At the moment Leila confessed to him just as he had expected, Bjorn felt even a faint tremor.
Ah, finally. At last.
It had been a wait of five long years.
Separate from the gloomy gaze that had persistently followed him, Leila had never once formally confessed her feelings to him until now.
Perhaps because it was the first direct expression to come from her lips, a slight warmth brushed Bjorn’s heart as well, but he quickly shook off such bothersome emotional disturbance.
He hated wasting time on pointless matters. Since he could neither return her feelings nor was there any possibility of things coming to fruition, this moment in which Leila held him back was nothing more than meaningless time.
Five years had passed while he awkwardly allowed her feelings in a tacit manner, unable to find a proper excuse to brush her off decisively. Today, Bjorn intended at last to teach this naïve noble lady the pain of heartbreak.
“I already know, Miss Bailey. About how you feel.”
He murmured this with an excessively dry expression for someone who had just heard a heartfelt confession.
Despite Bjorn’s attitude and tone, which could even be taken as rude, Leila lowered her gaze as if she had expected no less.
Seeing her face redden as if it might burst and her lips tremble uncontrollably made his solar plexus feel inexplicably tight. Still, thinking that this would be the last time he had to witness such a distressing sight made it bearable.
The main culprit that had likely encouraged this timid woman’s pitiable impulse was the sweet spring breeze, along with the sudden news carried upon it.
Having resolved to be as magnanimous as possible, Bjorn continued speaking calmly, his emotions more settled than ever.
“And I believe you already know the answer I will give you, Miss.”
He showed a calculated, lonely, and wistful smile.
“Unfortunately, I am in no position to accept your feelings, nor to promise you a future.”
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