Chapter 5

“Mother, please…!”

“Are you trying to humiliate me here? Just try it, Elena. Do you think I’ll leave Leana alone?”

“She is your daughter too, Mother!”

Elena cried out in a shrill, small voice.

“So what? What can that child do for me?”

Cecile stared blankly at Elena.

There was not a trace of maternal affection left on her face.

It seemed she had not been like this when they were young.

“That child is a money-devouring ghost, Elena. How many times have I said we should throw her out?”

“Mother…!”

“If you just walk out of here, I will throw Leana out. No matter how shabby that house is, it’s mine, in my name.”

Elena’s eyes wavered.

Elena might not need it, but Leana needed a house.

A house that could block the wind and keep out the rain.

She was a child who had only just turned six.

A kind child who, when she lay exhausted, would carefully hold the tips of Elena’s fingers.

Elena’s only comfort, still reeking of baby scent.

The leash that oppressed Elena was always Leana.

Her little, fragile younger sister, who had never once breathed properly since being born.

In the end, unable to overcome Cecile, Elena was hurled once more beneath the bright chandelier.

* * *

“Maxim, want to make a bet?”

“What bet?”

Camellia, who had been leaning on the sofa with a listless expression, straightened up.

She had become interested in the conversation going between Caeles and Maxim.

“That woman. I think today’s main character is her, no matter how you look at it.”

Camellia raised her fan and pointed at Elena, who was dancing with man after man without smiling even once.

Maxim turned his gaze to Elena once more.

Every time Elena’s dress fluttered, men with reddened eyes clung to her.

Her mother, desperate to sell off her daughter, must have searched out and dressed her in a dress whose intentions were plain for all to see.

“Maxim dances with that woman.”

Caeles continued in a flat voice.

“Why should I?”

It was a trivial, worthless bet.

Just as Maxim was about to lose interest and turn his head away—

“Aren’t you curious about your aunt’s reaction?”

Caeles giggled.

“Rather than let you marry a woman like that, she might give up on your marriage altogether.”

Maxim furrowed his brow.

No matter how much he disliked what his aunt was doing, it was not something Caeles should mock.

Caeles opened his mouth faster than Maxim could.

“And that woman could raise her own value, couldn’t she? This is Maxim we’re talking about. How many young ladies have dressed themselves up just to hold your hand once here?”

Maxim muttered irritably.

“A childish prank.”

“Then how about thinking of it as Maxim’s mercy? Look at the level of the men leering at that poor woman. Aren’t they our fathers’ age?”

For some reason, Camellia egged him on.

It was certainly not out of true pity for the woman; she was either intrigued or had some other motive.

Maxim slowly rose.

Caeles, who had not actually expected it, opened his eyes wide.

“You’re really going to do it?”

Maxim pressed down on Caeles’s shoulder hard enough to hurt.

“Ugh! Maxim!”

“No matter how gracious my aunt is in mingling with anyone, she is not someone to be made into gossip like that. Is she? She is, after all, Her Highness the Princess.”

Maxim smiled chillingly as he muttered.

“Be careful, Caeles. You never know who might be listening.”

Caeles clutched his shoulder.

Honestly, what an unlucky bastard.

Watching Maxim’s retreating back, Camellia narrowed her eyes.

Caeles crossed over to Maxim’s seat and sat down.

He spoke with exaggerated fuss.

“Did you see what he just did? Even Maxim, the great man, takes interest when there’s a pretty woman.”

Caeles’s eyes quickly checked Camellia’s reaction.

Camellia twisted her lips and leaned back on the sofa again.

Maxim was a man who had always taken only the best.

Even more so since his business had soared.

His eye was so good that he was leading the department store business to booming success day after day.

Was there a man in the empire wealthier than Maxim now?

For such a man to take interest in a cheap thing like that?

That could not be.

Camellia raised her eyes like a cat.

As if nothing had happened.

But the hand holding her glass was trembling faintly.

Caeles looked at Camellia and let out a short sigh.

* * *

She drifted from man to man, dancing without a moment’s rest.

Only now did Elena learn that there were this many male nobles in Rebunto, and that there were quite a few old bachelors and widowers as well.

Asking her to bear a child, or to become the mother of their children.

Elena wiped her face with trembling hands.

Only when her legs were swollen and she was on the verge of collapsing could she flee toward the tables, saying she needed to rest.

The attention poured on her was divided into two kinds.

The first was greed.

That was the gaze of most of the men.

And the second was envy and jealousy, or contempt.

Wherever Elena went, people stepped aside and cleared the way for her.

Most of the noblewomen and young ladies were avoiding her like a bug.

Every whisper reached her ears.

[Don’t even go near her, Jessie. You might look low-class too.]

Low-class.

Elena bit her lip hard.

Elena’s shoulders trembled with humiliation.

She had never once lived in a “low-class” manner, and yet, unbelievably, the mother who had given birth to her had pushed her own daughter down into a place like this.

There was no one here on her side.

People who knew nothing about Elena were judging and appraising her merely by her clothes.

She was tired and sleepy.

She wanted to go back, hold Leana’s small hand, and sleep.

‘Should I run away?’

Perhaps it would be better to take Leana and run.

Cecile’s greed was endless, and at this rate, she might really be sold off to an old man.

No, was that almost certain now?

If it was her mother, she would do it without hesitation.

Cecile seemed to be haggling over Elena’s price with the noblewomen.

Around her, the men who had danced with Elena were hovering and gathering.

Offering prices, setting values.

Wasn’t this a scene one would see only at a market?

Elena was no different from a mare put up for sale at a horse market.

Elena let out a hollow laugh.

Just as she raised her head and was staring blankly at the chandelier—

It seemed even this brief rest was not permitted to Elena, for another man appeared.

“My lady.”

It was a soft, rich voice.

Low in pitch but full in volume, sweet like coffee topped with cream.

Elena slightly furrowed her brow and lowered her gaze.

It was that man.

The man who had shown her kindness a week ago.

The man with deep green eyes amid freely falling black hair.

Only after fleeing from the carriage and returning home had Elena realized she had not even properly thanked him.

She had not expected to meet him like this.

It seemed this man, too, had been on his way to Rebunto to attend Countess Presto’s birthday banquet.

He was the youngest and most handsome among the men who had asked her to dance today.

That was only natural.

All this time, Elena had been dealing with men rushing in to buy a healthy, young, pretty woman.

Elena pointed at herself with a startled face.

“M-me?”

Why would this man, who would draw women’s attention even if he simply stood still, offer his hand to her?

Elena swallowed and looked around.

There was not a single woman left who could be called a lady.

Everyone had fled far away to avoid Elena.

“Then is there anyone else in this spot who could be called a lady?”

The man curved his handsome lips into a smile.

The low laughter drew Elena’s gaze.

“Why would I…”

“There is only one reason a gentleman offers his hand to a lady in a place like this.”

The man slowly bent his body.

Having lightly pressed his lips to Elena’s pale hand, the man raised his eyes.

“A d-dance?”

Elena asked, craning her neck like a startled deer.

Why a man like this?

As Elena hesitated, the man pulled her along.

“You will never regret it.”

What on earth?

Before she could even ask, she was led by the man’s hand out onto the floor.

The man gently wrapped his arm around Elena’s waist.

It was an entirely different gesture from the previous partners who had groped at her roughly.

The man took Elena’s hand.

As Elena hesitated, the music that had stopped began to play.

It was a familiar waltz.