Deatrice shut her mouth and her gray eyes closed halfway.
She thought that she was still fine and that she could still endure the pain. But if one looked closely enough—her emaciated cheeks, pallid complexion, and thinner neckline had only served to reveal hints of all the suffering she had gone through.
She was like a delicate doll that bruised so easily.
Lucius peered down at her, as if he had caught onto her weakness. A somewhat nervous feeling welled up in him as he struggled to push down the feeling of wanting to reminisce.
“We need to pretend that we’re in love. It would be best if you cooperate, and we should also fix that facial expression of yours.” he said helplessly, “Shall we practice then?”
He took note of her current appearance and gave her an apprehensive smile, then gently coaxed.
“If you show up like this, all pale and sickly-looking, would people believe us? Furthermore…” he tilted his head to the side. Then, he said in a slightly bitter tone, “You can take off that damn ring now, hm?”
Deatrice followed his line of sight and quickly hid her hands behind her back, embarrassed.
She was still wearing her engagement ring with Fredhi, right in front of the man she would soon marry. This was clearly a mistake on her part, and she felt utterly pathetic because of it.
As if her past weaknesses weren’t enough, more and more flaws kept on revealing themselves as if they were all she’s ever made of.
Lucius leisurely looked down at her, waiting for an answer. As soon as she nodded her head in a timid manner, he extended his hand.
Deatrice clenched her hand that was hidden behind her back and bit her lips. She was a little surprised at the thought that he, in the midst of the current situation, would want to kiss the back of her hand.
It wasn’t a very hard thing to do, but the problem was that she was still wearing another man’s ring. She could give her other hand but doing so would have impolite implications based on their culture and tradition.
But despite knowing that, Lucius still asked for her hand, and he didn’t look like he planned on going soon if he didn’t get what he wanted.
Sighing, Deatrice slowly put her hand on his and Lucius gently covered them with his palms. A fraction of a second later, she felt his soft lips touch the back of her hand.
But unlike before, his sapphire-blue eyes had turned into a fiery red.
“Then,” he whispered softly, “I’ll hope we’ll get along well in the future.”
Deatrice muttered to herself.
“I should be the one saying that.”
But Lucius didn’t respond to her statement. He only continued looking at her with that soft smile on his face.
***
Soon after, they signed the engagement letter they couldn’t refuse.
The emperor, having already achieved his objectives, said he wouldn’t care about the duke anymore.
With no announcements of further invitations or words of pardon, the position of the duke became a bit murky. The people even speculated whether or not the emperor would still impose a punishment on him.
Because she had yet to recover her position in social circles, Deatrice should not have been able to attend any tea party, let alone a ball. However, she could attend this one that welcomed the emperor’s elder sister, Queen Andrea.
Not showing up to any other gathering could still be overlooked but being absent in one with the queen present would have repercussions in one’s reputation and prestige.
In addition, it has been a while since she had visited with the young prince, so any discerning eye would have the mind to know that they should attend.
Deatrice sat quietly in the ballroom.
Wearing a dark velvet dress with her wavy black hair cascading down her shoulders, there were already three people who had odd expressions when they saw the colour of her outfit.
The only spark of color she had on her was the golden pin inserted on her hair. Even then, she still looked quite gloomy.
Some people even told her she was better off attending Fredhi’s funeral.
Saying that to a young lady during a grand ball was rude, but when Deatrice heard the word ‘funeral’, she was a little relieved instead because it meant that she’d succeeded in following Lucius’ arrangements.
Two days before the ball, he had sent her a piece of paper, too small to be even called a letter, stating that she should dress like how she would at a funeral.
What was he planning? To even set a dress code for her…
As Lucius said, they had to look like they were falling in love ‘again’ at this ball. Judging from the dress code he had decided on, there must’ve been some sort of script in Lucius’ mind that she wasn’t even aware of.
Deatrice thought long and hard about what might’ve gone through his head so she wouldn’t mess up his plans, but then she realized it was a futile effort.
In any case, people would still spread rumors as long as Lucius and Deatrice were in the same place.
It was quite a famous fact that Lucius and Deatrice were previously lovers, so it was definitely something that all the young men and the young ladies who had just debuted in the society were aware of.
Even the second prince of Galaba, Fredhi, knew this. Back then, seeing Lucius receiving his knightly title, the prince had asked her a certain question.
“Isn’t he your former fiancée?”
Her heart fell at that time. Of course, rather than waiting for her to respond, he soon said, ‘Nevermind.’ Then, he went on saying how grateful he was that at least his bloodline was legitimate, amongst other things he kept saying about himself.
Anyhow, that meant that the relationship between her and Lucius was so well-known that even Fredhi was reminded of it.
Even after their relationship had ended, other socialites continued to show unquenchable interest in the two of them. Strangely enough, their interest was expressed in a rather positive way.
For example, when both Lucius and Deatrice entered the same room, someone would appear and naturally lead the other one away by either conversing or taking a walk with them. In this way, no matter what happened, the two would not be able to talk to each other.
It looked like they were doing this out of concern for the two of them, but Deatrice wasn’t so sure about it. The fact that the socialites did it in the first place until it turned into some kind of unspoken rule was what made it so bizarre to her.
Just then, she heard that Lucius had already entered the room.