Chapter 50

 Veronica had made that cutting remark about Perfoné, but I smiled politely and looked away—just as her chair scraped softly against the floor.

“It’s nearly time for my fiancé to come pick me up,” she said with a cool smile. Her eyes, though seemingly kind, gleamed with subtle sharpness.

“I’ll be taking my leave.”

Her long, honey-colored hair swayed behind her as she walked away from the greenhouse, leaving a stiff silence in her wake.

Julian, who was close to her, broke the awkward quiet.

“I thought things were getting better with her fiancé… Guess not.”

Wait, what?

That was the first I’d heard of any tension between them.

Earlier, Veronica had seemed perfectly happy to talk about her fiancé—how he’d sent her a dress and corsage for the Founding Festival. So why did things suddenly seem so strained?

“Did they fight?” someone whispered.

Then came the stares—slight, accusatory glances toward me.

What did I do?

I tried to stay composed, sipping my tea. Julian sighed.

“It’s because of Duke Valstein.”

Damian?

Why is his name coming up here…?

The connections spun in my mind, but none made sense. I had no choice but to keep listening.

“You knew Veronica had a crush on Damian back in the Academy, right?”

I did not. And I certainly didn’t see how that was my fault.

Apparently, her fiancé found out—and the two had argued about it. Rumors of a potential broken engagement were already circling.

All because of that?

When someone added, “Her fiancé thinks she only attends social gatherings because she hopes to see Duke Valstein,” I nearly sighed aloud.

So much for useful information. This tea party was becoming a gossip minefield.

⸻

Later…

“Damian Dinia Valstein,” I muttered.

A former Academy classmate—and the only person who knew my secret.

We’d grown close because of our shared family circumstances. And once he discovered my abilities, our bond had deepened rapidly. He was Perfoné’s cousin, after all, and far from an ordinary noble.

But… he hadn’t visited me once at the villa. Not even a letter.

And now I learned Veronica’s fiancé suspected she still harbored feelings for Damian?

What happened during those three years?

Did he find out?

I pressed my fingers to my temple. If he ever saw me injured, even slightly, he’d have noticed something was off. Damian wasn’t someone who overlooked details.

Still lost in thought, I arrived at the entrance to Perfoné’s office. The guards stopped me.

“I’m here to see His Highness.”

“Please wait a moment.”

As even the Crown Prince’s fiancée, I needed permission to enter. I nodded. One guard went in to inform him. The other stood still, stone-faced.

I casually asked, “Is Lady Adonis off today?”

“Yes.”

I nodded again.

I was fishing, of course. Whether she’d compete in the tournament would be her choice—but it was hard not to hope.

“Lady April, you may enter.”

The heavy door opened.

As I stepped in, I saw him—Perfoné—looking flustered and unsure.

Just like the boy I remembered from childhood.

I chuckled softly.

“An unexpected visit, Lady April?” Lervian asked with a knowing look.

I batted my eyes.

“Am I not allowed to visit my fiancé?”

“Well… technically, no.”

Ignoring his muttering, I took a seat beside Perfoné.

Lervian raised a brow, then quietly stepped out.

“The nobility’s buzzing about the Founding Festival, Your Highness,” I began cheerfully.

“I know.”

“I have a small request.”

“I’ll hear it first.”

“There are rumors that we’re breaking off our engagement.”

He didn’t respond right away. But his golden eyes flickered—just like they did that morning when he told me not to smile like her.

Back then, he had looked on the verge of tears. Now… he simply looked tired.

“Whoever started those rumors… has a keen eye,” he said flatly.

That wasn’t like him. Perfoné always kept a neutral face. Even toward Rozian—the emperor’s consort and the woman who nearly got him killed—he had shown courtesy.

But now, he sounded… cold. Deliberately so.

“I didn’t visit you for a month and a half while you were at the villa,” he added. “Of course people would talk.”

“And now?”

He was still acting cold. On purpose.

“You’re pretending to be distant, aren’t you?”

He flinched. Just slightly.

His ears turned pink.

He swallowed hard and whispered, “How did you know?”

“How could I not? After all these years together?”

Just as he knew my habits, I knew his.

When he was sad. When he was shy. When he was trying too hard to hide something.

“How long do you think I’ve known you?”

Even with the three years we’d been apart, that didn’t erase the time we had before.

“If you want to hide something from me, you’ll need at least five more years, Your Highness.”

He didn’t laugh. Didn’t frown.

He just looked at me—blankly.

Had I said something wrong?

Then he let out a low breath. His shoulders trembled slightly, as if he were nervous.

“So, why did you come?” he asked softly.

“The festival’s almost here,” I said brightly. “I want to go out with you.”

“I don’t have time.”

“You promised. Until the annulment, we’d act like an engaged couple.”