Chapter 20
Grace frowned slightly as she observed the man slowly approaching her, wondering if he might be someone she knew.
However, the man—his short blond hair tinged faintly with red and pressed beneath a wide-brimmed hat, his deep blue eyes dark like the night sky, his proud high nose and gentle lips—was undeniably handsome, yet there was no trace of him in Grace’s memory.
Stopping at about a step’s distance from her, Grace spoke coolly.
“Is there a reason I must tell you who I’m looking for, Mr. Owen?”
“……”
“I’m sorry, but I’ll be taking my leave first. If you’re looking for someone to converse with, you’d do better to speak to someone else. Excuse me.”
When she snapped at him in a slightly sharp tone due to his persistent attempts to hold her back, the man—Owen—said nothing and simply stared at Grace’s face.
Frowning openly at his behavior, Grace finally turned away decisively.
“Do you truly think it’s worth ruining your life because of that cursed Duke Arthur Felix, Lady Grace?”
Once again, Grace halted mid-step at Owen’s words.
She glared at him, her eyes fixed on his deep blue gaze that revealed nothing of his true intentions.
“…What exactly do you mean by that?”
“I mean it quite literally. I would hate to see someone as beautiful, kind, and just as you ruin her life because of him.”
“What…?”
“It’s not too late even now. Run away—immediately. If you need help, I will assist you.”
What utter nonsense was this man spouting?
Now completely blocking her path and spewing absurdities, Owen was met with Grace’s incredulous stare when—
“Oh my! Isn’t that His Highness the Crown Prince?”
“My goodness! It really is! Your Highness!”
The music had stopped, and a group of women who had been moving about in search of a place to rest suddenly cried out as they noticed Owen.
At their shouts, Grace stared blankly back and forth between Owen standing before her and the women rapidly approaching.
Sensing her gaze, Owen wore an awkward expression and parted his lips as if to say something.
“My goodness! We greet the Crown Prince!”
“It’s been so long, Your Highness!”
“Weren’t you studying in the Peln Empire? Have you returned on a short leave?”
Before Owen could say anything to Grace, the women quickly surrounded him, chattering excitedly.
Grace continued to stare at Owen in shock.
‘The Crown Prince…? Him?’
She had only been uncertain before, but after seeing their reaction, she was certain.
That rude man was none other than the Emperor’s only late-born son—the Crown Prince, Eugenius Clive, and the man who would one day become the husband of her sister, Marianne Alberton.
Ignoring the women surrounding them, Grace stared in disbelief at Owen, who now looked troubled as he turned back toward her.
‘…I was an idiot. I should have realized the moment I heard the name Owen—meaning “noble birth.”’
Her desperation to find Arthur had blinded her judgment.
As Grace briefly reflected on her earlier rudeness toward him, she soon frowned again, recalling the insolent words he had spoken.
[―――A monster. He is a monster.]
“…!”
At that moment, a voice rang sharply in Grace’s ears—the same dreadful voice she had heard earlier.
Startled, she clapped both hands over her ears.
[To ――― the monster, you must be drenched in the blood of a ‘bride.’]
[…Is that truly necessary?]
[Yes. Regrettably, there is no other way to ―――.]
No matter how tightly Grace covered her ears, the eerie voices did not stop.
Instead, they grew clearer.
And as the voices grew louder, an unidentified, unpleasant noise intensified alongside them.
—Bzzzt. Crackle. Screeeech.
[How long must we ―――? At this rate, I might truly ―――!]
“Just a little longer. Just a little more patience. ――― is real.”
“But we are truly running out of time!”
[―――Do not worry. I have a good idea.]
As the grotesque noise and the voices of the two men grew louder, Grace’s entire body began to tremble with fear.
She didn’t want to hear any more. The incessant sounds drove her to the violent urge to tear at her own ears.
She had to escape.
Somehow—she had to get away from these voices.
Repeating this instinctively, Grace staggered backward.
[―――Rejoice! At last, we’ve found her. That bride!]
Suddenly, her vision went pitch black.
Then, in a flash, dark green flames burst forth, and before her eyes appeared the face of a vicious man cloaked in a robe—only to vanish just as quickly.
“—Kyaaaah!”
The man grinned at her with the gaze of a beast eyeing its prey.
The moment she saw it, an unbearable pain tore through her chest, as though her heart were being ripped out alive.
Unable to endure it, Grace’s consciousness snapped.
Her body lost all strength and collapsed to the floor like a withered branch.
* * *
When Grace screamed and collapsed, the ballroom instantly fell into chaos.
Owen shoved aside the women surrounding him and rushed to Grace’s side. Cradling her limp body, he shook her shoulders and shouted.
“Lady Grace! Please wake up!”
“…My lady!”
At that moment, Arthur emerged from the crowd—he had been searching tirelessly for Grace after losing sight of her once the first dance ended.
Hearing women screaming and her name being called, he rushed over.
Arthur forced his way through the circle of onlookers and froze upon seeing Grace collapsed on the floor.
His expression hardened as he hurried toward her—then stopped short when he noticed Grace half-held in Owen’s arms.
For a brief moment, Arthur stared at them in confusion before his gaze cooled sharply.
He bowed politely.
“We greet Your Highness the Crown Prince.”
“It has been a while, Duke Felix.”
As soon as Owen returned the greeting, Arthur knelt in front of Grace and extended his arms toward Owen.
“I’ve arrived now. I will take care of her. Please hand her over to me.”
Despite Arthur’s insistence, Owen did not loosen his hold on Grace.
Arthur glared at him coldly—nearly irreverently—and reached closer, urging him again.
But when Owen tightened his grip as if refusing, Arthur’s expression twisted in displeasure.
Just then—
“Y-Yes! Your Highness! Quickly hand that cursed woman over to the Monster Duke!”
“That’s right! What if that dreadful curse turns toward you instead?!”
“…What?”
The noblewomen who had surrounded Owen earlier shrieked hysterically.
Arthur asked in shock, while Owen snarled coldly at them.
“Ladies Lauren and Rebecca. Refrain from such disrespectful speech.”
“Your Highness, please heed our warning! That reaction—those actions—she’s clearly cursed!”
“Exactly! She suddenly screamed at thin air and collapsed! If that’s not a curse, what is?”
Despite Owen’s warning, the women cried out in fear, describing Grace’s condition.
The surrounding crowd gasped and murmured, stepping back cautiously.
“My goodness… such a thing…”
“Y-Your Highness! Quickly give the Duchess back to Duke Felix!”
Some of the men, pale with fear, tugged at Owen’s collar and shouted at him to let go.
In the ensuing chaos, Owen momentarily loosened his grip.
Arthur seized the opening, swiftly pulling Grace into his own arms.
He held her tightly, as though he would never let her go again.
Casting one last cold glance at Owen, who still sat awkwardly on the floor, Arthur bowed briefly.
“Please excuse us, Your Highness. Convey my apologies to His Majesty for leaving early.”
Without hesitation, Arthur turned and headed for the ballroom doors.
Owen stared at Arthur’s retreating back and spoke.
“This bride is truly a fine woman. So much so that it feels a waste for her to be your bride.”
Arthur let out a quiet, airy laugh and replied, almost to himself.
“I believe so as well.”
With that, he quickened his pace and exited the ballroom.
Owen bit his lower lip in frustration.
Was it his imagination, or had Arthur’s words meant, ‘She is too good even for me—but even more so for you’?
Rising unsteadily, Owen ignored the hands extended to help him.
“…Your Highness.”
As he gestured for people to move aside, Marianne—her expression stiff—called out to him.
Owen looked indifferently at his fiancée and spoke.
“It has been a while.”
“…Why did you return without even informing me…?”
“And why should I have bothered to inform you?”
“…Your Highness!”
Marianne cried out in shock, but Owen ignored her completely and walked past.
She let out a hollow laugh, glaring at his retreating figure.
Her gaze was filled with cold hatred and greedy obsession—far from what one would expect of a woman soon to be married.
