Taking something from someone—whether driven by revenge or born of anger—was supposed to weigh heavily on the conscience. Yet perhaps because Isabel had stolen so much from me, my heart felt boundlessly relieved.
Deep down, of course, a microscopic speck of guilt prickled over the fact that I had forgiven her time and again, playing the willing fool. But the moment I looked at Khalid, even that vanished entirely.
We were walking away from the terrace. Holding my hand and keeping an arm wrapped around me, Khalid strolled along the long corridor without any apparent destination. He seemed to walk without an objective, almost as though he simply wished to take a stroll with me. Then, coming back to my senses, I found us standing a few steps from a balcony near the ballroom. It was the sort of secluded nook lovers used for secret trysts or quiet rendezvous.
My gaze fell upon his calm, composed face. Yet apart from his serenity, a wave of guilt abruptly surged through me. Deny it as I might, wrap it in the guise of romance as I might, I had just used him. To whatever degree, large or small, he had served as an instrument in settling my personal score with Isabel.
Unable to ignore the nagging ache in my conscience, I looked up at him as he walked beside me, matching my slow pace with his arm wrapped around my waist.
“I’m sorry.”
And just like that, he stopped in his tracks.
It was quite dim here. A faint amber glow lit us just enough to make out one another’s features, with the brilliant moonlight acting as our grandest ornament. Gazing blankly at the silver light cascading over his face, I pressed a hand to my forehead and ran my tongue over my dry lips. I needed to say something.
Khalid looked down at me. I turned to face him fully, meeting his gaze as I spoke once more.
“I am sorry.”
“For what?”
His low, calm voice carried through the quiet air. Looking up into his steady eyes, I took a step closer, letting my voluminous skirts brush against his boots. After studying his face for a moment, I leaned in and nestled into his embrace of my own accord.
He reached out and wrapped his arms around me. A comforting warmth enveloped me. Burying my face in the crook between his shoulder and chest, I mumbled softly.
“I used you.”
The guilt weighed on me pointlessly. He had kissed me in earnest, yet I had turned it into a weapon. Naturally, the kiss itself had never been part of some grand scheme. While his lips were on mine, I had cast aside every stray thought and focused entirely on him.
Even so, I knew Violetta’s character all too well. To claim I hadn't suspected she would drag Isabel and the others along would be a lie. And the moment I caught sight of Isabel, it was impossible to deny that I had seized upon the opportunity.
What did it matter if the beginning had been pure, when the ending was so thoroughly tainted?
Biting my lip, I pressed my face deeper into his coat. It was no exaggeration—I buried myself as if trying to sink into the fabric, terrified that if I looked up, I would see his cold expression or meet his icy glare. Having felt his ruthless edge before, I knew how sharp it could be. When we had been strangers, none of that mattered. But now that the sweet taste of him lingered on the tip of my tongue, I refused to let it slip away. How wicked humans could be.
Khalid offered no immediate reaction. He merely tightened his hold on me, drawing me closer. As I reached up toward him, he finally spoke.
“I knew.”
“Scarlett, I was well aware of what you intended. And…”
“And?”
“And I sensed Her Highness the Princess the moment she stepped out of the banquet hall.”
“So, in truth, I used you to a degree as well, Scarlett.”
His low, mellow voice resonated above my head. Lifting my face from his chest, I looked up at him. Tilting his head slightly downward, he met my eyes. Contrary to my fears that he might be angry, a faint smile played upon his lips. I stared blankly at his gentle expression, my lips parting in silence at his next words.
“So, did you find it gratifying?”
“You seem to harbor quite a dislike for Wither.”
“Y-You figured that out too?”
Wait. It was fine if he noticed that I disliked Isabel, but if he knew why I despised her… Oh dear. Lightly pressing my hands against his chest, I stepped back from his embrace.
Yet Khalid continued to watch me, a hint of laughter still clinging to his features. A mischievous glint had even crept into his eyes. I looked at him anxiously, and sure enough, he parted his lips.
“It seems you have had quite a great number of lovers.”
I was doomed.
Remembering the letters Isabel had sent to Khalid in Sorel, I bit my lip hard. Isabel never fabricated outright lies. Knowing the disastrous consequences of being caught in an invention, she stuck to the facts, as was evident in the letters I had seen.
Yet she was more than capable of phrasing those facts entirely in her favor. Worse still, judging by her tone, she had written to Khalid far more than once or twice.
I stared at him with wavering eyes. My past lovers weren't inherently a crime, but the trouble was—well, even I had to admit the number was substantial. Would he see me as flighty and insincere? That would be disastrous. Of course, I held my head high; there was nothing wrong with loving freely. But the real concern was that he had likely learned all of this from Isabel, meaning I had no idea how twisted the story had become in her telling.
“Uh, well, Khalid, hear me out. When people are young and green—”
“You are still very young, are you not?”
“Well, yes, of course, but… What I mean is, I believe one should be true to one's heart. Not that I'm making excuses, of course! But I always投入 myself fully. It's not as if I jump into relationships recklessly—”
“I know.”
Gently cutting off my rambling excuse, Khalid spoke. A smile rippled across his face like quiet water. Hearing a man known for his cold, unyielding logic laugh so openly caught me off guard. He raised a hand, brushing aside a few stray strands of my hair. A searing warmth grazed my cheek as fingers hardened by years of gripping a sword gently caressed my skin.
Hearing him call my name, I tilted my head up. His lips pressed softly against mine, lingering only for a fleeting second before pulling away. I blinked in bewilderment, staring at his face. As I pondered what that tender kiss had meant, I concluded that he wasn't angry in the slightest.
“Shall we finish what we started?”
A soft laugh escaped me. Feeling suddenly sheepish, I smoothed down a folded frill on my dress and spoke.
“You know I'm completely head over heels for you right now, don't you?”
“I do.”
“So, no being petty about the past. Deal or no deal?”
“No being petty.”
“Promise?”
When I hooked out my pinky like a child playing house, Khalid burst into genuine laughter. Stunned by the hearty sound—a first from him—I pressed my lips shut.
Watching my reaction, he raised his hand and hooked his pinky around mine. But in the next breath, he snatched my hand and pulled me forward. Yielding to his tug without resistance, I fell into his arms once more. It struck me afresh: for such a stoic man, he really had quite a penchant for touch.
I closed my eyes. The chill evening breeze drifted past our bodies, but the radiant heat of his embrace kept me warm. Listening to the steady thrum of his heartbeat, a pleasant smile spread across my lips. Just then, Khalid suddenly wrapped his arm around my waist and lifted me clean off the ground.
“Wh-what?”
Lifting me with effortless ease, he carried me a few paces into the open balcony. The cool night wind rushed over us once again.
Setting me down upon the ornate balustrade framed between two massive pillars, he planted a hand on either side of me and leaned in close. Feeling strangely boxed in by his frame, I peeked backward, then whipped my head around in alarm.
“The rose garden is right beneath us.”
“I am aware. The scent of roses is lovely.”
“If I fall, I'll be impaled on the thorns and die.”
“I will not let you fall. I am holding you, am I not?”
His words carried immense conviction, yet my unease lingered, prompting me to cast nervous glances over the edge. Watching me fidget, Khalid let out a low chuckle. He raised a hand to stroke my cheek.
“What are you doing?”
“You look beautiful.”
“I appreciate the compliment, but will you truly take responsibility if I take a plunge?”
Khalid nodded at my teasing question. Seeing his calm, composed expression irked me playfully, and I tapped his chest without any real force. But soon enough, my gaze locked onto his features once more.
His gaze was steady, focused entirely on me, brimming with passion. Reaching out, I wound my arms around his neck. Delighted by how willingly he yielded to my touch, I asked with a lilt of amusement in my voice,
“Then, if I fall, will you fall with me?”
It was a rather wicked question. Dragging him down with me instead of falling alone was sheer mischief.
Rather than answering with words, Khalid pressed a soft kiss to my lips, met my eyes, kissed my forehead, met my eyes again, kissed the tip of my nose, met my eyes once more, and then curled the corners of his lips into a smile.
The words he murmured next made me throw my arms tight around his neck, pulling him into a deep, breathless kiss.
The following morning, Winchester was turned completely upside down.
Stepping out of the carriage, I couldn't help but feel unnerved by the sheer number of eyes fixed upon me. Had I always been this popular? Looks of envy, looks of awe, stares of reverence, and everything in between. Just as I was beginning to feel like a prickly hedgehog under their relentless scrutiny, I opened the door to my office—only to be struck by pure outrage.
“What on earth is the meaning of this?!”
Normally, everyone would have scattered in terror at my anger, yet the crowd remained stubbornly planted inside my office. Even Korkel was among them. Flabbergasted, I marched toward my desk to take a seat, but they were quicker to grab hold of me.
“Scarlett.”
The one addressing me with such grave eyes was my senior in the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. Meeting his calm, solemn gaze, I wore an expression that practically screamed for an explanation. Taking my hand firmly in his, he spoke each word with painstaking care.
“If I have ever done anything to upset you, I apologize in advance.”
“Please don't take it to heart—I just have an eccentric temperament. Truly rotten personality. So please don't hold a grudge against me. And if you still can't let it go, just hit me! Go on, hit me!”
“What nonsense are you spouting?”
“M-Me too! If there's anything about me that displeases you, just come find me and punch me. You can beat me black and blue. Just don't kill me!”
“Me as well!”
“If there is anything about the Ministry you find disagreeable, please, do not hesitate to tell me!”
“Have you all lost your minds together? Get out this instant! I have work to do!”
At my shrill outburst, they filed out of the room in a panicked herd. What in the world was this theatrical farce? Shaking my head at their absurd antics, I finally sank into my chair.
Just then, Korkel—who apparently hadn't left—plopped his rear down on the edge of my desk with utter nonchalance.
“So, was yesterday's secret tryst a success?”
“Why are you still here?”
“Fine, since you're here, care to explain what has gotten into those lunatics?”
I pointed toward the cluster of heads still peeking nervously through my doorway. Reading the sheer irritation written across my face, Korkel chuckled before turning back to look at me.
“Lady Asla came by yesterday to share the news, you see. Said you and Duke Prodiad shared quite the passionate kiss?”
“All this fuss was over that?”
“And that the two of you walked off together, leaving a weeping Lady Wither in utter shock.”
“Well, she isn't wrong. But that's why they're acting like this?”
“They're thinking, ‘Ah, so Lady Dirnant is the type to bide her time and strike all at once.’ They figured they'd better apologize now before you retaliate for all their past teasing.”
“Wait, how on earth did they leap to that conclusion?”
I shook my head, thoroughly dumbfounded. Lady Asla was notoriously loose-lipped in high society. I understood why Violetta had brought her along—a single word from Lady Asla could spread faster than a hundred other nobles combined. Even so, for the rumor to travel this fast…
“Just how far has it spread?”
“I'd wager all of Winchester knows by now. If anyone doesn't, you should suspect them of being an enemy spy.”
Hearing Korkel's assessment, I pressed a hand to my forehead.
Right on cue, Celine's sharp voice rang out from beyond the door. It began with, “Move along, quickly!” escalated to, “What do you think you're doing crowding around someone else's office?!” and finished with, “Seriously! You're only going to make Lady Scarlett even angrier!”
Her scolding proved remarkably effective, for the buzzing corridor fell dead silent in an instant. A moment later, Celine pushed the door open.
Good grief, what a treasure she was.
I looked at her with pure admiration. Celine beamed as she greeted me, then immediately puckered her lips at Korkel.
“I'm going, I'm going. I have work to do anyway.”
At her silent eviction, Korkel hopped lightly off the desk. Sauntering toward the exit, he ruffled Celine's hair in passing before strolling out. Celine shot him a fierce glare, but he merely chuckled as he disappeared down the hall. Hmm? What was that about?
Celine smoothed her expression and took her seat across from my desk. Then, fixing me with a bright grin, she leaned forward.
“Hehe, Lady Scarlett. So, are you truly courting His Grace Duke Prodiad?”
“Whoa, incredible. His Grace truly knows how to pick a woman! Keep acting cute and I'll shove you right in the middle of those busybodies to work you to the bone, understood?”
“I'll get right to work!”
At my mock threat, Celine snatched up her pen immediately. Watching her, a soft laugh escaped me. Just how far had the rumor traveled? And in what shape? Knowing how terrifying rumors could be, a flicker of unease tugged at my fluttering chest as I pulled out a document.
Around midday, as I buried myself in work, the official announcement of the annulment between House Prodiad and House Wither arrived. Having known about it beforehand, I wasn't surprised. Well, it was inevitable that the annulment and my scandalous romance would be spoken of in the very same breath. Since I had anticipated it to some degree, it didn't bother me much either…
“Scarlett.”
Just as the workday drew to an end, Isabel came to see me.
