Chapter 2

Yuric Glassheart absentmindedly fiddled with the knot of his tie. The cloying heat of the ballroom clung to his skin like a damp shroud.

He’d never been fond of crowded gatherings to begin with.

“Yuric, it’s about time you started considering a marriage prospect, don’t you think? You must attend the New Year’s ball.”

The Emperor’s stern admonishment had tethered him to this obligation, and Yuric was quickly realizing it had been a choice worth regretting.

The moment he entered the ballroom, he felt the piercing weight of every woman's gaze latch onto him. Their eyes swept over him with such ferocity, he might as well have been the evening’s main course, laid bare on a silver platter.

His mood plummeted immediately.

Scowling, he took a measured sip of champagne. Not even the sparkle of chilled carbonation could lift the oppressive fog settling over his mind.

Had these people never learned that staring was impolite? It was precisely this sort of vapid social posturing that made the capital’s high society so unbearable.

"Ahahaha! Relax that grim face, cousin. They’re staring because they’re interested in you!"

Crown Prince Edward, always insufferably cheerful, noticed Yuric’s sour expression and burst into laughter, tears welling at the corners of his eyes from his mirth.

“I never asked for their interest.”

Yuric replied flatly, his brow still furrowed.

“Come now. You really should begin thinking about marriage.”

And so continued Edward’s incessant nagging.

“Wouldn’t it be nice to take some time off and meet someone worthwhile? How long do you plan to remain a bachelor?”

Marriage.

It was the logical expectation, Yuric was the heir to House Glassheart, after all. But emotionally, the notion stirred nothing in him. He supposed anyone who met the appropriate criteria would suffice.

Edward threw an arm around Yuric’s shoulder, grinning with the ease of someone who had never once taken anything seriously.

“I can guess what you're thinking. Just get it over with like it's some bureaucratic duty and produce an heir.”

“If I looked like you, cousin, I’d make life a lot more interesting.”

Yuric brushed off Edward’s arm, hiding a scoff. The prince already seemed to lead quite the entertaining life, as far as Yuric was concerned.

Edward was capable, yes, but his infamous escapades with women were second only to his political prowess. Yuric, having inadvertently witnessed far too much of his cousin’s personal affairs, had come to deeply question whether such a life was truly “entertaining.”

If being slapped by a scorned mistress after declaring he’d “grown tired of her” counted as fun, Yuric would gladly pass on that experience for the rest of his life.

“Perhaps it’s you who should settle down. Find yourself a Crown Princess.”

Edward smirked shamelessly.

“Alas, I’m far too adored by the women of the realm to devote myself to just one.”

He dabbed theatrically at imaginary tears.

“Besides, I’ve yet to meet a woman who truly captivates me. They’re all far too charming, I simply can’t choose.”

Utter nonsense.

Yuric, unfazed, gave a single, icy retort.

“Mind you don’t catch a venereal disease.”

“Ahaha! No worries. I’m very careful. If you’re curious, I could show you how, interested?”

“No. Absolutely not.”

He turned his head in dismissal, but Edward pressed on undeterred. Was this really the level of conversation befitting a Crown Prince and a Duke? Yuric could only sigh in quiet dismay for the future of the Empire.

Still, he’d done his duty. He’d shown his face, exchanged the requisite pleasantries. The Emperor’s pride would remain intact.

Time to leave.

Just as Yuric turned to excuse himself,

“Kh…”

A sudden wave of dizziness swept over him, his body swaying involuntarily. Edward, who had been babbling beside him, lunged to steady him.

“Hey, are you alright? Did you overdo it?”

That couldn’t be. Yuric, despite his refined appearance, possessed a constitution as solid as steel. He’d never once felt truly fatigued before in his life.

This… this sensation was foreign. Wrong.

As a throbbing pain bloomed behind his temples, a strange voice echoed in his mind:

‘Be kind to Edith Hamilton.’

“What…?”

He knew of the Hamilton baron’s daughter in name only. He couldn’t even recall meeting her. She was, at most, a peripheral presence in his world.

And yet, this intrusive command left no room for defiance. His body stiffened as though shackled by invisible chains. He tried to move a finger, anything, but his limbs remained paralyzed.

A bead of cold sweat rolled down his temple. Edward’s jovial expression faded into concern.

“You really should lie down. You’ll make a scene if you collapse here.”

The Crown Prince turned to summon an attendant,

And at that moment,

A woman entered Yuric’s line of sight.

A stranger.

She stood chatting warmly with Baron and Baroness Hamilton, her green eyes curving into crescents every time she smiled.

She bore a resemblance to Everett Hamilton.

‘That must be Edith.’

‘Be kind to Edith Hamilton.’

Yuric felt as though he were drowning. His breath caught in his throat.

“Quickly! Find the Duke, !”

Edward’s head whipped around. Yuric had vanished from his side.

“Yuric?”

Across the room, he spotted his cousin walking, no, striding, directly toward someone.

“Guess he’s feeling better…”

Edward waved off the attendants, though the reality was far stranger than he imagined.

What the hell is happening?

A shiver snaked down Yuric’s spine. His legs carried him forward without consent. He was a marionette, guided by unseen hands. His thoughts screamed in protest, but his body obeyed a different master.

“Ha…”

Finally, his feet came to a stop, betraying him one final time.

The bustling noise of the ballroom halted like a cut string. Edith, mid-conversation with her parents, wrinkled her nose.

Why the sudden silence?

Everyone was staring in her direction. Not just glancing, glaring, with unnerving intensity.

And then she caught a strange scent in the air.

Duke Glassheart.

He was staring at her with such icy menace, she nearly flinched. His gaze was so sharp, it felt as though he intended to bury someone on the spot.

Edith’s face turned pale. What possible business could he have with her?

“...May I help you?”

Her voice was low, cautious.

“Eddie, did you offend His Grace somehow?”

The baroness whispered urgently. Edith shook her head.

“I have no idea…”

Baron Hamilton stepped forward. His posture remained dignified before the duke, but,

Edith noticed the tremble in her father's hands, clasped behind his back.

“Your Grace, is there something you wish to say to my daughter?”

Yuric remained silent.

The baron’s brow darkened.

“If she has, unknowingly, disturbed your peace… Please excuse her inexperience. She’s still new to high society, ”

“Damn it!”

The duke raked a hand through his hair and cursed aloud.

His throat worked as if choking on something unspeakable.

“Why… me… what the hell is this…”

He was muttering now, eyes clenched shut in torment.

“Your Grace?”

The baron’s voice cracked slightly. Truthfully, the man before him looked unhinged.

Then, the strange standoff broke.

“Lady Hamilton.”

Yuric slipped off his jacket and gently draped it around her shoulders.

“...!”

“You’ll catch a cold like this.”

His fingers brushed her arm with surprising tenderness, a strange contrast to his earlier grim expression.

Baron and Baroness Hamilton gaped, stunned. Around them, murmurs spread like wildfire.

“Did the Duke just…?”

“Oh my! Love has come for the Duke at last!”

“Lady Hamilton is a beauty, I admit. And the baron’s business just took off…”

“Still, House Hamilton can’t possibly be on the same level as the Glasshearts…”

All eyes were on her. Edith’s mind went blank.

“What in the world…?”

Her delicate hands clenched the folds of her dress. The jacket on her shoulders felt unbearably heavy, as though weighted by every gaze in the room.

Was this… affection?

Couldn’t they see the ice in his stare? The malice just beneath the surface?

Is he mocking her? Trying to make a spectacle of her on purpose?

“You’re… cruel. I don’t understand what I did to deserve this.”

She spoke with a tremor in her voice. Yuric leaned down, his mouth near her ear.

“Is this your doing?”

“...Pardon?”

“My body won’t obey me. I think it has something to do with you.”

His words were soft, but they fell like stones into her chest.

“Even now.”

Then, he lifted her hand and pressed a kiss to her glove-clad knuckles.

“This is your doing”

His blue eyes glowed like twin blades of ice. The heat of his breath, even through fabric, made her lashes tremble.

“Ah…”

Her fingers quivered. Her breath came in shallow gasps.

Already dizzy from the wine, Edith felt fear surge up in her like a tidal wave. Her vision blurred, and then the world tilted.

She collapsed.

“Edith!”

“Sweetheart!”

And then, darkness swallowed everything whole.