IDHIT C1

Chapter 1

On the day her fate twisted, Angelina Agert was reading the newspaper.

Munching on a freshly baked bagel while going through every page of the national paper was both a hobby and a game to her.

A game of finding her own name.

It had already been three years since her name began appearing in the papers as a celebrity of the Latria Empire.

With a beauty said to enchant anyone at a glance and the dazzling background of being the Crown Prince’s fiancée, her profile was more than enough to earn attention and admiration. She had never doubted that this life would continue.

At least, not until she saw a strange photograph in the paper.

— Sir Phillips entering the Gloria Hotel with a lady. What kind of beautiful story might have unfolded?

The woman’s face was as familiar as looking into a mirror.

“Ahh!”

Angelina crumpled the newspaper and threw it.

“My lady, what’s wrong?”

Lara, the maid standing by the door, rushed over like a Doberman.

“Who does that look like to you?”

With trembling fingers, Angelina pointed at the newspaper. Lara picked it up from the floor with a puzzled expression.

“It’s you, my lady. You went to the hotel a few days ago, didn’t you? I guess it got published after all. But why did they leave out your name and just write ‘lady’?”

Lara asked casually.

“And Sir Phillips—that notorious playboy, right? Since when were you involved with him like that?”

“That’s impossible!”

Of all people, Sir Phillips.

The infamous rake said to have invited every woman in the Latria Empire into his bedroom.

Women caught in scandals with him suffered for quite a long time.

Dear God, why are you giving me such misfortune?

I just happened to walk through the same door at the same time!

“No one will know. Your name isn’t even printed.”

Lara spoke lightly.

“You recognized me right away.”

“…You’re not hiding something from me, are you?”

When Angelina glared sharply, Lara smoothly made excuses.

“Well, since the man was Sir Phillips, I just wondered. Oh—and there’s something else you need to see.”

“…A letter?”

Angelina absentmindedly broke the seal.

— We regret that Madam Kelt’s dress, with its hundred-year legacy, has suffered damage to its intrinsic value due to an unfortunate article. For this reason, we are terminating our sponsorship of Miss Agert. Additionally, please return the recently provided dress within one week. If the dress is damaged, a compensation fee of 6,000 Herc will be charged.

It had only been a few hours since the newspaper was released!

Though briefly stunned by the brand’s strict management, Angelina soon fixated on the final line.

Return? Compensation fee?

“Where is that dress?”

“That dress is right in front of me.”

“Where…?”

Following Lara’s gaze, Angelina lowered her head.

“The one you’re wearing, my lady.”

“…What?”

Startled, she sprang to her feet. The coffee cup in her hand fell to the floor, splashing dark liquid everywhere.

I’m doomed.

Angelina felt her vision go blank.

“Lara… do you happen to have any money?”

“…Pardon?”

Lara stared at her shameless employer, dumbfounded.

“How am I supposed to come up with 6,000 Herc?”

“Why don’t you ask the master or madam?”

“They’d give me the money. And then the thing I fear would happen.”

Being sent to a convent—or married off.

“Then what about His Highness the Crown Prince?”

“…You mean Alexei?”

“Yes, you used to be close.”

“That was in the past.”

“You’re still his fiancée.”

“In name only. It was a promise made by our fathers. We’re worse than strangers.”

“But wouldn’t he be the one most capable of solving this problem?”

He had power. He had money. He had more than enough ability.

But the real question was whether he had the will.

The will to help a fiancée in name only.

“You want me to go ask a Crown Prince I cut ties with seven years ago?”

“…That would be difficult, wouldn’t it?”

The demand letter fluttered in Lara’s hand. Six thousand Herc seemed to flicker before her eyes.

“I can’t visit the imperial palace for such a personal matter…”

“He should be at the summer palace around this time.”

Ah…!

That suggestion sounded hopeful—

And it became the decisive factor that twisted Angelina’s fate.

What does it feel like to go ask a man you’ve cut ties with for a humiliating favor?

First, it feels as if you’ve lost your sight—everything goes dark.

This is stupid. Pathetic.

Self-loathing follows.

Her heart raced like a galloping horse, and her mouth dried like a desert.

As she stood frozen, Lara whispered what she called advice.

“My lady, don’t bring up your request right away. Try to appeal to His Highness’s emotions.”

Emotions? From that bookworm?

That was like looking for a cicada in the dead of winter.

“Don’t rush just because you’re anxious. Go slowly, gently. Understood?”

Slowly. Gently. With patience.

Repeating those words to herself, Angelina stepped through the door opened by a servant.

The study in the summer palace was smaller and simpler than the main palace. That was precisely why the Crown Prince preferred to stay there every summer. The main palace, difficult to renovate to his taste, was filled with excessive decorations—mere distractions to a bookworm.

Just as she expected, the Crown Prince sat upright, reading a book.

Alexei Werner.

The only son of Emperor Raymond Werner, the future ruler of the throne.

A man born with everything, who delighted in books and scholarship.

From her perspective, he was also an insufferable person who wouldn’t shed a single tear even if stabbed.

They had grown up together, once even like friends. A time when everything between them felt natural and inevitable. He had been annoying, but not unbearable. So even the marriage promise arranged by their fathers hadn’t bothered her much.

But not anymore.

Their relationship had broken after she carelessly touched one of his books, and their engagement remained only as a promise destined to be broken someday.

At the sound of her presence, he lifted his head—only to lower it again.

…Ha.

Look at that coldness.

She had foolishly expected at least a small welcome. Wasn’t he the one who had once lashed out mercilessly just because she touched one of his books?

Angelina regretted coming, but she couldn’t turn back.

After all, she had been the one who shouted that they should never see each other again.

“Long… time no see.”

She forced the words out. Alexei, who had been buried in his book, raised his head.

“What is it?”

“Well…”

Slowly. Gently. Say it properly.

“…Lend me some money.”

“…What?”

“There’s no one else around me who has money—or who could lend it. Only you.”

Alexei closed his book with a sharp sound.

It seemed she had touched not his emotions, but his temper.

“Why do you need money?”

Angelina told him everything that had happened that morning.

The scandal-like tabloid article, Madam Kelt’s demand letter, and the stained dress.

“…That’s what happened. So I need the money.”

“The newspaper?”

“I don’t have it.”

Alexei summoned a servant and ordered the paper to be brought. While waiting, Angelina watched the hour hand of the wall clock make a full circle, irritation written all over her face. And her fiancé, who remained rooted to his desk.

“If you want to refuse, just say no. Don’t drag it out.”

“I didn’t say I’d refuse.”

“So you’ll lend it?”

“I didn’t say that either.”

“Are you playing with me?”

“No.”

Unable to hold back any longer, Angelina stood up. She grabbed the demand letter from the desk.

“Forget it. Sorry for coming unannounced.”

I shouldn’t have broken my vow never to see you again.

All I did was hurt my pride.

Before she could even gauge his reaction, she turned and walked away—only to be blocked at the door. For some reason, the indifferent Crown Prince stood there, looking down at her.

And then he said—

“I’ll help you.”

His face was as cold as ever.

“So wait.”

It was enough to make her turn back.

“Shall we have dinner together?”

“…Alright.”

It was just about dinnertime.

Only after the food on her plate had disappeared into her stomach did Angelina realize she had behaved without any dignity. Glancing sideways, she saw that the Crown Prince’s plate was still untouched.

“Did the chef change? It didn’t taste like this before.”

“Twice. The current one is also good with chicken dishes.”

His dry reply swept away her embarrassment, leaving only her dwindling patience.

“You said you’d help. How?”

“Read the article first.”

“It’s not even a large sum for you. Can’t you just lend it kindly?”

“If I lend it, can you repay it?”

At the sharp question, Angelina fell silent.

Just then, a servant entered and placed the tabloid on the table. While Alexei read, she idly scraped her empty plate.

“Is this dress Madam Kelt’s?”

“No. I wore a different one that day.”

Alexei folded the newspaper. Silence followed.

“The imperial family must maintain distance from the public. Being involved in gossip does no good.”

“I just enjoy social activities. How am I supposed to stop reporters from following me like shadows? And I’m not even part of the imperial family.”

“Not yet. But you will be.”

“Why would I?”

“Because you’re my fiancée.”

…Was she already drunk?

Angelina shook her head. The Crown Prince didn’t look like a stone—but he did look like two of them.

Well, she had been drinking faster than usual.

She should slow down.

“Now that we’re both adults, talk of marriage will start coming up.”

…She abandoned that resolve and downed another glass of wine.

“You don’t seriously think that engagement is still valid, do you?”

“Why not?”

“It might as well have been broken seven years ago.”

“It wasn’t officially broken.”

At that moment, the two Crown Princes merged into one—an ugly stone.

“Even so, there is absolutely… absolutely no way… we’re getting married.”

Angelina dropped her head onto the table.