Chapter 2

“It’s been a while, Adele.”

Startled, Adele lifted her head, and he smiled quietly at her, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

At once, the glacier-cold eyes seemed to thaw, glittering warm.

This was the real Christine’s gaze — the one she remembered.

His lips drew close enough to brush her earlobe.

“Now — left foot first.”

“Ah—!”

His warm breath tickled, and Adele’s shoulders hunched instinctively. But a moment later her feet were already moving where he led, as naturally as if her body had never forgotten.

The two of them settled at the center of the ballroom floor, light as if they might take flight.

Soon other couples gathered around them, pairing off.

A lively dance tune swelled through the hall, and the mood lifted at once.

“I can dance without stepping on anyone’s feet now. All thanks to you, Adele.”

“Chris…”

“Count Christine Weiss.”

He cut her off, enunciating clearly.

“Though of course you may still call me Chris, the way you used to. I’ll make a special exception — for you.”

There was so much Adele wanted to ask him.

But she could do nothing now except stare at him, dazed, unable to say a single word.

“Now, left foot first, Chris. One, two, one, two…”

“Do we really have to? This is the kind of thing only noble riffraff does.”

“So you don’t want to?”

“Who said I didn’t want to? I’m just saying it’s a hassle.”

“Ow! You stepped on my foot on purpose that time, didn’t you?”

“Sorry. Not on purpose — an accident.”

“One, two… hey, again!”

“Ha, that one wasn’t an accident — that one was on purpose!”

“Hey! Chris!”

The old barn that became their own private ballroom whenever the grown-ups were away. The smell of old hay and the sound of a mischievous boy’s laughter were still so vivid, even now.

And then, ten years.

It seemed Adele hadn’t been the only one who’d lived through a great deal in that time.

Dancing to the music now, Christine was no longer the pretty-faced boy he’d once been.

He stood a full head taller than her, his lean body gone hard as stone. His voice had dropped low and rough, and the attractive set of his throat when he spoke reminded her, unmistakably, that he had grown into a man entirely different from the boy she remembered.

And he danced astonishingly, flawlessly well.

“What are you thinking about?”

He gazed at her steadily, and Adele looked away, flustered.

“…It’s just been so long since I danced, that’s all.”

Adele’s earlobes had turned red as she answered.

Had he noticed, by any chance?

Just the thought of it made her face feel like it was heating up too.

“Don’t worry. I’ll lead — just follow me.”

“Mm-hm.”

Adele let her body go, trusting him naturally.

One, two, one, two…

When he turned, she turned with him; when he reached out and circled her waist, she folded gracefully into his arms. Each time, the skirt of her mourning-black dress would flare out below her narrow waist, then wind close again along the curve of her body.

It was strange. They’d met again after so long, and yet Adele could predict exactly how he would move, every single time.

One, two, one, two…

Before she knew it, their breaths had fallen into the same quick, ragged rhythm.

The prickling stares of everyone else around them had long since vanished from Adele’s mind.

Before she knew it, they were back in the old barn, and there was no one before her but Christine.

Adele smiled, wide enough to show her even white teeth.

When was the last time she had smiled like this?

---

A few days later.

“Sigh like that again and you’ll put a hole clean through the floor.”

Adele, seated by the fireplace, looked up with a start.

Mia had come up beside her without her noticing, and now stood looking down at her, clicking her tongue. Snow must have been falling outside — a fair dusting of it still clung to her hat and coat.

“Mia! You scared me half to death. Make some noise when you come in, would you?”

“I called your name I don’t know how many times. What on earth were you thinking about, that you didn’t even notice someone walk in?”

Mia brushed the snow off her coat and hung it on the wall without a second thought, then tossed another log onto the dying fire.

“You didn’t even notice the fire was about to go out.”

She moved through the house as naturally as if it were her own.

Mia was the Baroness who lived next door to Adele — though her family held nothing but the title itself, no wealth or influence to speak of, and lived little differently from commoners.

Still, she had done a great deal to help Adele settle in here after she’d been driven out of House Oswald. It was largely thanks to her that the mourning-black dress had come together at all.

“Thinking, nothing. Want some tea?”

Adele rose from her chair, but Mia caught hold of her skirt.

“Forget the tea. Sit down first.”

Adele had no choice but to sink back into her seat.

Mia, as if she’d been waiting for just this moment, fired off question after question.

“So, how was His Majesty’s ball?”

“Fine.”

“And the gift?”

“Everyone enjoyed it. They all shared it around.”

“And that wretched girl Seira?”

Only then did Adele remember that Seira had even been at the ball that night — the woman who always kept a crowd trailing after her, endlessly itching to tear Adele apart.

Meeting Christine again had been so overwhelming that she’d completely forgotten Seira even existed.

“Oh — Seira…”

“Guess she went easier on you this year.”

“Guess so.”

Hm… Mia nodded slightly, then frowned, puzzled.

“So then what’s actually wrong?”

Adele shook her head firmly.

“Nothing’s wrong.”

Mia didn’t believe a word of it. Just a moment ago, when she’d come into the sitting room and spoken to her, Adele hadn’t even noticed — too lost in her own sighing.

“No. Something’s wrong.”

Every year, after coming back from the Emperor’s birthday ball, Adele turned unusually talkative — baking cookies and bread until the kitchen was a shambles.

It was how she hid being hurt: putting on deliberate cheer.

So what was this reaction, then?

Had something serious happened to worry her?

Mia narrowed her eyes, studying her from every angle, when Adele reached out and took her hands.

“Really, nothing happened — don’t worry, Mia. His Majesty loved the cookies I made, and Seira kept quiet the whole time. This year’s ball was genuinely enjoyable.”

“Then why were you sitting there sighing like your soul had left your body?”

“Was I?”

“It’s always one of two things. Either you’re worried sick about something, or you’ve fallen in love. But there’s no way you’ve fallen in—”

“Mia, let’s have that tea! I just happen to have some wonderful black tea!”

Adele shot up from her seat, her cheeks already flushed pink.

Mia’s eyes went wide.

“Adele! You’re actually in love?”

“Have you lost your mind? Me, in love — as if I’m in any position for that…”

Adele shook her head as if the very idea were absurd, and Mia asked, carefully—

“Don’t tell me… it’s not him, is it?”

“Him?”

“Count Christine Weiss.”

Adele very nearly tripped over the hem of her own skirt.

Mia sighed, as if she’d known it all along.

“Good lord. You too?”

“What do you mean, me too?”

“I heard Count Weiss showed up at the ball this time, and that he leveled the whole room with looks that didn’t belong to this world — it’s all anyone’s talking about. And now even you’ve fallen for him…”

“No, it’s not like that!”

Adele’s voice rose before she could stop it.

“If it’s not, so much the better.”

“Of course it isn’t!”

But Mia didn’t believe her for a second. Adele was flustered — a rare sight indeed.

Still, she was genuinely curious. Count Weiss — hero of the Empire and a man of enormous wealth besides — was a subject of fascination for plenty of people. She’d always assumed the talk of his outrageous looks was nothing but gossip, dreamed up by people with too much time on their hands.

But if he’d managed to catch the heart of Adele, of all people — a woman who despised men on principle—

then he really must be cheating at life, mustn’t he?

No wonder the Emperor had his eye on him too.

Mia, feeling for her poor friend, offered her a piece of genuine advice.

“Just in case — if you’re feeling even the slightest bit drawn to Count Weiss, drop it now. He’s about to become imperial consort.”

“Imperial consort?”

Adele’s expression hardened.

“Word is he’s about to be made a Marquis, then engaged to the Princess. By the time they marry, he’ll probably be a Duke.”

Mia’s husband handled document filing for the imperial household. A minor post, but it kept her well-informed about the goings-on at court — and if Mia was saying this much, it was practically certain.

“So you’re saying he’s marrying Princess April?”

“That’s right. The Crown Prince is still just a child, so His Majesty needs a reliable son-in-law — someone to stand against the Council of Elders.”

The Kalaim Empire had a Council of Elders made up of five great noble houses. Most empresses were drawn from among those very families.

But the current Empress came from no great family at all, and the Emperor’s relationship with the Council was far from good.

What’s more, the Crown Prince, his heir, was still only a small child.

An Emperor in his position needed a dependable imperial consort who could serve as his right hand — a young, capable noble with the strength to stand against the Council, yet with no ties to any of its houses.

You really are remarkable, Chris.

Adele felt proud of Christine.

Rising from a miner’s son to a Count had already been extraordinary enough — and now the Emperor’s own consort.

So why did her chest feel so hollow, all of a sudden?

“Adele… you’re all right, aren’t you?”

Mia asked, studying her face.

She looked exactly like someone who’d just heard that the man she liked was getting married.

“Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Adele smiled brightly and rolled up her sleeves.

“This won’t do. I’m hungry — let’s make something to eat. Bread, maybe? Or pie? Let’s make plenty and share some around!”

Just as she was marching briskly toward the kitchen—

“Visitors! We’ve got visitors!”

Tanya, just back from running errands, burst in, all in a fluster.

Tanya was the maid who’d followed Adele out when she was driven from House Oswald. Adele’s only maid — but by now, practically family.

“Visitors? Who?”

Adele asked, worried, taking the shopping basket from Tanya’s hands.

Anyone likely to come calling on her was either someone sent from House Oswald, or people come to make trouble over her reputation as the wicked woman who’d poisoned her husband.

No one who came to see her was ever good news.

“I don’t know who it is! I just saw this huge carriage following behind me and ran straight here. What do we do?”

“Don’t worry. If it’s some creep, I’ll beat him out the door myself.”

Mia snatched up the fire poker by the hearth and brandished it bravely.

“Then I’ll throw this and hit him right in the head!”

Tanya pulled a fist-sized potato out of the shopping basket.

Watching them, Adele laughed quietly, then said, calm as ever—

“You two don’t need to go that far. Just slip some poison into his tea and it’ll all be over.”

Good grief. Mia and Tanya stared at her, stunned. She was already saddled with a false reputation as a poisoning expert — did she really have to joke about it, of all things?

Just then, the whinny of a horse carried in from the garden of the small manor.

Mia dashed to the window and threw the curtain aside.

Out in the snow-blanketed garden stood a large, luxurious carriage.

“Who is it? That crest — I’ve never seen it before…”

Mia murmured to herself, then a moment later, her face went slack with shock.

“Adele, this has to be someone come to hurt you!”

“Who is it?”

Seeing Adele go pale, Mia quickly added—

“Because if a man who looks like that proposed to you with a bouquet in hand, you’d drop dead of a heart attack on the spot.”

“What?”

The carriage door opened, and a line of attendants climbed out, each cradling an enormous bouquet of flowers.

But the reason Mia had gone slack-jawed was the man standing among all those flowers — more beautiful than any bloom there.

---

“You must be cold — drink some tea first.”

Adele held out the warm black tea Tanya had prepared.

Inside the house now, it was just the two of them — her and Christine.

Mia, quick to read the mood, had already taken Tanya and gone off to her own house.

But Christine didn’t so much as glance at the tea. He hadn’t even sat down, as though he might leave at any moment.

Then, without any preamble, he demanded—

“Why did you just disappear that day?”