Chapter 3
Rufus whispered as he stared intently at her profile.
“Helena, you really are an interesting woman. You always seem to stand on your tiptoes, looking toward somewhere far away.”
Helena let out a faint laugh.
“Like Sandra?”
In Duras, the empire’s most prosperous city, the Golden Rose Theatre still bore the legacy of its former prima donna, Sandra.
In the painting, Sandra stood on her tiptoes, reaching toward the light, looking as though she might fly away at any moment.
She didn’t even glance back at her soft-hearted husband or her needy young daughter—only gazing far, far ahead.
Rufus must have recalled the painting as well, because he smiled and nodded.
“Yes. Like Sandra.”
After that, Rufus fell silent, lost in thought.
A short while later, he spoke again.
“…I’m the same.”
“Really?”
“Until now, I thought marriage was just like adding another luxurious seal to my chest. I believed that if I wore it, the imperial family and the citizens would feel reassured and even proud.”
“That does sound like you.”
“And I thought you would be the same.”
“Hm. So this is where differences in status and gender come into play…”
Helena looked down at the chessboard, where black and white squares were arranged beautifully, and fell into thought.
Rufus stared at her, then murmured as though enchanted.
“That’s right, Helena. We are a man and a woman.”
Rufus took Helena’s hand—the one that had been idly touching the chess pieces—and pulled it toward him.
Helena smiled faintly.
“Just because you do that doesn’t mean I’ll give it up—”
Her smile vanished the moment Rufus pressed his lips to her finger.
Caught off guard, Helena shuddered at the wet, soft sensation pressing down on her finger.
She glared at him, stunned.
“Rufus?”
Rufus lifted his beautiful blue eyes to look at her.
Still holding her finger in his grasp, he murmured against her skin as she struggled weakly to pull away.
“Helena. You are so beautiful… so full of freedom…”
Helena thought:
‘Has this man gone insane?’
But Rufus ignored her reaction and continued speaking as he pleased.
“I think I’ve been misunderstanding something all this time. I thought you would always stay by my side…”
Just as she was about to pull her hand away from the increasingly clingy crown prince—
Bang!
The door to the reception room flew open as if it might break, and Adela Bayard, Rufus’s fiancée, appeared—somehow having learned of the situation.
Wearing a dress covered in glittering beads, she looked like a walking chandelier. She looked between Helena, whose face was flushed red with anger, and Rufus, who had turned pale with shock.
Then she saw Rufus holding Helena’s hand, and his lips pressed against her finger.
Her expression twisted gradually, until her face resembled a pepper cut in half.
“Y-Your Highness the Crown Prince! H-how could you do this to me…!”
With that, Adela collapsed to her knees like a tragic heroine.
Helena shouted,
“Lady Adela, it’s not what you think!”
But before Helena could calm the chaos, someone arrived who should have never seen this situation—the final boss of the “people who must not witness this” list.
“What in the world is going on here?”
Emerging in flowing red robes was the Empress of the Empire, Clarissa Arpend.
Helena had not expected that this small resting room in the corner of the central tower would be so frequently visited.
But it didn’t matter how many people came. What mattered was that this was all a misunderstanding.
Helena stretched out her hands to calm everyone and said in a steady voice:
“Everyone, this is all a misunderstanding. Let me explain.”
The Empress, who usually favored Helena, raised one elegant eyebrow as if to say: go ahead.
“I—!”
Helena quickly prepared three possible explanations in her mind.
- “Your Highness, I have no relationship whatsoever with the Crown Prince.”
- “Since the day I saw His Highness eat his boogers when he was eight, I have never once considered him a man.”
- “And His Highness’s current lovers are Rona and Crials.”
Just as she was about to organize the chaos with these three answers—
Rufus dropped a bombshell.
“Lady Bayard, I do not wish to marry you.”
Helena turned to him with wide eyes.
Adela burst into tears at his cruel words.
“Waaaaaah!”
Helena was speechless.
She already knew Rufus didn’t want to marry Adela. The timing, however, could not have been worse.
Rufus looked at Helena with dog-like, rain-soaked eyes and said,
“Because… the one I love is you, Helena.”
Helena replied calmly,
“Your Highness, no. That’s not it.”
“No, it is. Helena, I’ve actually liked you since we were children.”
“Waaahhh!”
Adela’s crying echoed loudly through the room.
Empress Clarissa shouted,
“Enough. Enough!”
Clarissa, a woman so beautiful it was hard to believe she had an adult son, yet so dignified it was impossible to ignore her authority, was now filled with anger.
And that anger was clearly directed at Helena and Rufus.
“Rufus and Adela, come with me!”
Only Rufus and Adela.
Helena felt a sense of foreboding.
“Your Majesty, I—!”
But Clarissa frowned, her elegant nose wrinkling.
“Helena, I am disappointed in you.”
“Y-Your Majesty…”
“I will summon you again later. For now, return to Count Winston’s estate.”
It was an unmistakable dismissal.
In the end, Helena had no choice but to return home without any explanation.
And a few days later, the Empress’s simmering anger arrived at the count’s house in the form of a letter.
Helena asked with a resigned expression,
“So… am I to be executed? Or exiled?”
The Count of Winston, whose expression had somewhat calmed, frowned and said in a scholarly tone,
“Execution? Don’t say such frightening things even as a joke. Her Majesty simply wishes for your marriage to be arranged as soon as possible.”
“A marriage sentence…!”
The Countess said, stiffening her neck.
“The problem is, who would take you in under these circumstances?”
Helena covered her mouth and sniffled.
“So, I guess I’m just the daughter of a ruined noble house…”
The Countess snapped.
“Ruined? Who said we’re ruined! Must you joke even now?”
Helena pulled her hand away and pouted.
“I can’t even joke? I was just trying to lighten the mood!”
“Lighten? Lighten it?!”
The Countess’s anger flared up again, but Helena quickly put on a pitiful expression.
Still, this was not a situation for jokes.
Normally, marriage proposals for Helena were endless.
Letters requesting courtship arrived dozens per day, and if you lined up her admirers, they could encircle the entire estate—and maybe even extend into the garden.
But then the Crown Prince publicly revealed his affection for her, and Lady Adela Bayard of one of the Empire’s Six Great Ducal Houses suffered such heartbreak that she fell ill.
On top of that, rumors that the Empress herself was furious spread across the capital.
It was a situation where Helena risked becoming hated by the future Emperor, one of the Six Great Ducal Houses, and even the Emperor and Empress.
In the chaos, her suitors disappeared as quickly as if they had been swept away.
Helena sighed.
“Alright, Father. I’m ready to accept it.”
At her words, the Count, who had been slumped in his armchair, lifted his head.
“Accept what?”
Helena looked at him and said,
“Think carefully. Don’t you have an old friend with whom you once joked about marrying your future son and daughter if you ever had them?”
