Chapter 35
The atmosphere in the banquet hall shifted instantly. The sound of rolling eyes, sharp intakes of breath, and hushed whispers like “He’s here” pierced the silence. Roseline’s composure shattered. Her heart, once calm, now pounded as if charging into battle, and her face betrayed her completely. She stared blankly at the hem of an unfamiliar lady’s dress blocking her view, her head bowed so low it nearly touched the floor.
“Do you really think that’ll hide you?”
Schnitzel’s whisper was laced with dry amusement as she glanced sideways at Roseline.
“No, it won’t.”
“Then hold your head high. My neck hurts just watching you.”
“If he even glances this way, he’ll know I’m avoiding him.”
“How exhausting.”
Schnitzel clicked her tongue and turned away just as the grand side doors swung open. Valen, impeccably dressed in his formal uniform, strode toward the dais with deliberate steps. His steel-blue eyes swept across the hall—searching, unmistakably, for something.
When that lingering gaze finally fixed on a single point, the faintest hint of a smile curved his lips, as if amused by a private thought. But by the time he stood before the Emperor on the highest tier of the dais, all expression had vanished from his striking features.
“I stand before the Empire’s sun, His Imperial Majesty. May the light of glory ever follow you.”
“My younger brother graces us with his presence, making this day all the more glorious.”
The Emperor’s voice brimmed with affection for his sibling. Even in this formal setting, he addressed the Grand Duke as “brother”, smiling warmly. But the Emperor’s deep fondness failed to move Valen. After exchanging a brief glance with the Empress, he took his seat to the Emperor’s left—and immediately fixed his gaze on one spot again. At the end of that line of sight was Roseline, her head still bowed deeply. His eyes traced the curve of her pinned-up hair, the pale nape of her neck, then lingered on the ivory fabric of her dress. His finely drawn brows twitched. Tap, tap, tap. His index finger drummed against the armrest, each sharp sound betraying his irritation.
Meanwhile, the music resumed, marking the official start of the banquet. Tradition dictated that the Emperor and Empress open the dancing—yet, for some reason, the Emperor descended from the dais and turned to his consort with a playful smile.
“If Her Majesty permits, I wish to share the first dance with today’s honorees. Will you allow it?”
“Of course, Your Majesty.”
A flicker of mischief passed through the Empress’s smile as well. When the Emperor’s noble steps carried him toward the graduates, the hall buzzed with excitement. With every stride, those in his path bowed and parted like the sea before a prophet, layers of guests scattering to clear the way.
Then—it was Roseline’s turn.
The moment she hesitated, her foot half-retreated, the Emperor’s hand rose before her downcast gaze.
“Will you share this first dance with Us?”
No.
“It would be an honor, Your Majesty.”
The forced smile on her lips trembled faintly. The Emperor, wearing an inscrutable grin, guided Roseline to the center of the hall. Wide-eyed glances darted between the two figures on the dance floor and the man seated on the dais. As the music swelled and the dance began, the Empress—who had been watching the scene with keen interest—flicked a glance toward the Grand Duke. His steel-blue eyes, unreadable, remained fixed on the pair with unsettling stillness.
“You refused his proposal, We hear.”
The blunt remark came the moment their first step began. So startled was Roseline that she nearly trod on the Emperor’s foot.
“…My deepest apologies, Your Majesty.”
“No matter. It grieves Us to see you suffer on account of Our brother.”
Yes.
“Not at all, Your Majesty.”
Hiding her irreverent thoughts behind a stiff smile, Roseline barely managed the steps.
“It grieves Us all the more that We cannot intervene.”
“…Your benevolence alone is honor beyond measure.”
“So you truly have no intention of becoming Valen’s consort?”
“Ah—”
The abruptness of the question made Roseline falter—this time, she did step on the Emperor’s foot.
“Forgive me, Your Majesty. My nerves have made me disgrace myself.”
“Disgrace? Hardly. Your answer was clear enough.”
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