Chapter 11
“Are you satisfied with just looking into my eyes?”
Yuan’s subtle voice spread softly in the air.
Before she knew it, the distance between them had narrowed so much that they could feel each other’s breath. Yuan’s gaze slid past Sereret’s eyes and lingered on her lips.
“And what more would you give me besides your gaze?”
Sereret asked, conscious of his stare.
“A kiss filled with praise?”
“And does that kiss really carry praise?”
No, it wouldn’t be praise—it would be mockery. Mockery of a naïve, ignorant country woman. Sereret’s lips twisted.
“That’s something you’ll have to confirm yourself.”
Yuan’s low voice brushed against Sereret’s ear, his gaze still fixed on her.
His eyes were locked on her red, plump lips, as though nothing else in the world existed.
The tension between them made the air inside the carriage feel dangerously tight.
At last, the eyes that had been tracing her lips slowly lifted back to meet hers. They carried the look of someone asking for permission.
It was the same look he had given her on the first night they spent together. You must permit me before I can come closer—that was what his eyes had said.
Even though she had been nothing more than a vessel to bear his child, he had at least shown that small courtesy. Yuan Prektuster had been, at least outwardly, a gentleman.
Deceived by that look, she had blushed and smiled shyly back then. But the moment she gave permission, Yuan had ripped off his gentleman’s mask.
In an instant, the gentleman became a beast. His rough kisses and hands tearing at her clothes could never be called gentlemanly.
Yuan devoured everything about her in a single moment.
To him, Sereret Inohater had never been a lady. And so, he had never felt the need to act like a gentleman.
There had been no romance in that night—just the consummation of his goal. If she could go back, she wouldn’t have smiled shyly. She would have spat in his face.
Sereret let out a bitter smile.
“I don’t think that’ll be necessary.”
She leaned back, putting distance between them. No more shy smiles for him—only resentment and hatred remained to be given.
Straightening her posture, Sereret looked Yuan squarely in the eye. He, too, sat up straight, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
“If you ever wish, you’re free to confirm it anytime.”
Yuan crossed his legs and spoke lazily, wearing a temptingly familiar expression.
She knew that look well. He had worn it often in bed. Each time, Sereret hadn’t known how to react.
It must have been amusing for him—to watch a mere breeding mare pretend to be shy and embarrassed.
Was that why he tormented her so? No matter how she begged—saying it was shameful, saying it was painful—Yuan never relented.
Even when she pleaded for him to stop, he bent her to his will. On the bed, Yuan was never a gentleman. He was a tyrant who reigned over her.
“Why should I bother? I don’t need it.”
Sereret turned her gaze toward the carriage window, speaking curtly. Shaking off the memories of her past life, she looked out at the streets slowly darkening with nightfall.
She still felt the heavy weight of Yuan’s gaze, but she refused to meet it. Their eyes did not cross again until the carriage came to a halt.
⚜ ⚜ ⚜
The grand ballroom of the Imperial Palace glittered with splendor, filled with the nobles who had been invited.
Gathered in small groups, the nobles chatted animatedly, their faces flushed with excitement. Not a trace of boredom lingered among them—they had been waiting for this day.
Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves, everyone except Sereret. She sat in a quiet corner, sipping champagne with a weary expression.
From the moment she had stepped into the hall, the ball had felt exhausting.
Ever since she had entered on Yuan’s arm, curious stares had followed her.
It was only natural that the country-bred fiancée of Duke Yuan Prektuster would attract such attention.
In her previous life, those stares had nearly made her faint. But not now.
She had lived through it once before. And after experiencing death itself, there was little left that could frighten her. Many of these faces she even found familiar.
Unlike before, those gazes were no longer mixed with scorn or disdain.
Now, what she saw in them was surprise—and a touch of admiration.
She’s more refined and beautiful than I expected.
The duke’s taste is impeccable.
Her beauty even rivals Lady Elliot’s.
Remembering the whispers she overheard, Sereret chuckled softly to herself.
Then, the sound announcing the arrival of the Imperial family rang out. Hastily, she set her glass down and straightened her posture.
The doors opened, and the aging Emperor entered with the royal family. They took their places, and the gathered nobles bowed deeply in respect.
When Sereret looked up, her gaze fell on the figure seated beside the Emperor—Lydia Elliot.
Lydia was beautiful, as always. Her full brown hair cascaded down her waist in waves, her pale blue eyes sparkling with life.
A green dress cinched with a white ribbon at the waist accentuated her beauty, giving off a dazzling brilliance that seemed almost dangerous, as though one might suffocate from it if they stayed too close.
Sereret frowned faintly. Strictly speaking, Lydia Elliot was no royal.
But there she sat proudly, the daughter of the Emperor’s beloved mistress.
“Here you are.”
Yuan approached Sereret just then.
“Yes,” she replied flatly, glancing at him.
“We must greet His Majesty the Emperor.”
For a brief moment, his face betrayed boredom.
Only someone like Yuan Prektuster could afford to treat an audience with the Emperor—an honor of a lifetime for most—with such indifference.
Sereret couldn’t help but feel a small spark of admiration at his nonchalance.
“Yes, I understand.”
Taking his arm, she walked with him toward the Emperor.
In her previous life, she had been so nervous that her voice had trembled like a goat’s bleating.
But not today. Matching Yuan’s composed expression, Sereret stood before the Emperor.
“Glorious light of the Empire, I greet Your Majesty.”
Despite his expression, Yuan bowed respectfully.
“Glorious light of the Empire, I greet Your Majesty.”
Sereret repeated the greeting.
“So, you are the Duke Prektuster’s fiancée.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Sereret answered gracefully with a smile.
“I see.”
The Emperor nodded, his face sour.
At that moment, Sereret felt a sharp gaze on her. She turned and found herself locked in Lydia’s cold stare.
But when their eyes met, Lydia smiled sweetly as though nothing had happened.
Turning back to the Emperor, she spoke brightly.
“Your Majesty, I happened to run into Lady Inohater not long ago, outside the dressmaker’s.”
“Is that so?”
The Emperor responded warmly.
“Yes. She had the boutique reserved that day, so I could only exchange a greeting outside. Isn’t that right, Lady Inohater?”
Lydia’s words carried a subtle accusation: Because of you, I couldn’t go in. Sereret’s smile wavered slightly.
“The Duke happened to make the reservation that day, so it turned out that way.”
Sereret smoothly shifted the blame onto Yuan. I didn’t book it. He did. She steadied her faltering smile.
“Oh my, how thoughtful of you. Because of that, I missed out on the dress I wanted.”
Lydia cast Yuan a coy look from under her lashes.
Sereret’s smile twitched. Watching Lydia flirt with Yuan made her stomach twist. She wanted to shout I break this engagement! and storm out then and there.
“Yes,” Yuan replied, face expressionless.
Though he seemed indifferent, Sereret suspected he was only feigning it.
“The dress you wanted?”
The Emperor chimed in.
“Yes, the very dress Lady Inohater is wearing now. I had my eye on it,” Lydia said with a sweet smile.
Sereret was stunned. Madame Varne had assured her that no one else had seen the dress.
And yet… what? Her eyes narrowed. Lydia had always known how to embarrass people, to catch them off guard.
Memories of Lydia’s cruelties in her past life flickered through Sereret’s mind, making it hard to keep smiling.
“You should have had another one made.”
“How could I? I couldn’t possibly attend a ball in the same gown as Lady Inohater. One of us would become the laughingstock.”
And everyone knew who that laughingstock would be.
Feigning ignorance, Sereret smiled and spoke.
“Had I known Lady Elliot desired this gown, I would never have chosen it. Madame Varne said nothing, so it was my mistake. I ask your generous forgiveness.”
“Oh, please, say no more, Lady Inohater. In fact, I think it turned out for the best—the dress suits you perfectly.”
Perhaps worried she might appear petty, Lydia waved her hands lightly.
“Thank you for your kind words.”
Sereret smiled. Lydia smiled back, but their eyes told a different story—neither warmth nor kindness lay there.
“You’re from Mosheli, are you not?”
The Crown Prince spoke to Yuan and Sereret then, drawing Sereret’s attention away from Lydia.
“Yes, Your Highness.”
At her reply, the Crown Princess added,
“I’ve heard Mosheli is beautiful. I’d love to visit someday.”
“It would be Mosheli’s honor to welcome Your Highness,” Sereret answered politely.
“Shall we take our summer retreat there, then?”
The Crown Prince teased his wife.
“You’re far too busy for that.”
She smiled, gently scolding him. He laughed awkwardly and said,
“If the Crown Princess and I visit, we’ll stay at House Inohater.”
“You’ll always be welcome, Your Highness.”
Though you needn’t trouble yourself, Sereret thought inwardly, smiling sweetly.
After some brief conversation with the royals, she and Yuan withdrew. Just as they turned to return to their place, Lydia called out—
“Yuan.”
The intimate way she spoke his name made Sereret’s lips curl bitterly. Yuan turned to her, as if inviting her to speak.
Go ahead, enjoy each other, Sereret muttered to herself, about to leave.
But Yuan caught her arm, keeping her at his side. Reluctantly, she stayed.
A flicker of dissatisfaction crossed Lydia’s face.
“Speak, Lady Elliot,” Yuan urged politely. Unlike Lydia, he addressed her with stiff formality.
“Will you give me the first dance?”
Lydia finally asked.
