Chapter 17

The Imperial banquet hall was alive with noise and laughter. The Emperor had summoned every titled noble still residing in the capital to attend an evening feast.

“Why do you think Her Majesty called us all here?”

“It is the social season. Perhaps she merely wishes to strengthen ties in a formal setting, or maybe to consider which family might best suit the Crown Prince.”

“A marriage talk, then… It makes sense. His Highness is already thirteen, after all.”

“Since the Empress Dowager passed, perhaps Her Majesty intends to personally choose the Crown Princess.”

Half of their guesses were wrong, and half were right.

It was indeed about a marriage discussion, but not one involving the Crown Prince.

When the Emperor entered, the nobles immediately rose and bowed deeply.

Unlike the day she had met Agnes, Cali appeared in full regalia, dazzling in jewels and imperial splendor, surveying the nobles’ bowed heads with serene composure.

“You may raise your heads. It has been far too long since I have seen your faces.”

At her command, the nobles lifted their heads, and Cali’s gaze briefly lingered on one man.

‘That must be Count Overhen.’

Count Rickman Overhen.

He was a man with thick blond hair and cool blue eyes that gave him an air of calm refinement.

His complexion was fair, his features impeccable, his posture perfect as if shaped by etiquette itself. Having already inherited his title at a young age, he was regarded as one of the capital’s most eligible bachelors.

Yet whenever Cali saw him, she could not shake the feeling that something dark and crooked lurked beneath that polished exterior.

And her instincts, as always, were correct.

Rickman Overhen had demanded a one-sided divorce, claiming his wife interfered too much in their son’s upbringing, and had cast her out to her family home. He knew exactly what became of noblewomen abandoned that way.

No, he was likely the kind of man who took pleasure in destroying another person’s life simply to confirm that he could.

That was why, instead of marrying a woman from a higher noble line, he had chosen the daughter of a viscount, a woman he could control completely.

And that was why Cali felt a spark of satisfaction now. What she was about to announce would crush every one of his expectations.

Once Cali took her seat at the head of the table, the nobles followed suit. She looked around at them with an easy, confident smile.

“I invited everyone tonight to share some joyful news. I could hardly keep it to myself.”

‘Joyful news?’

So it was already decided? Not a matter to discuss but to declare?

Was the Crown Princess already chosen? From which family?

Before they could speculate further, Cali shattered their assumptions with a single line.

“My beloved younger brother, the Duke of Vasteron, is to be married.”

“T-the Duke of Vasteron, Your Majesty?”

One noble stammered in surprise, and Cali’s sharp eyes turned on him. He instantly fell silent, bowing his head, while Cali smiled sweetly.

“Yes. My brilliant brother has finally found his match. I met her recently, a truly lovely and graceful lady.”

Though the room remained outwardly calm, every noble’s mind was in turmoil.

‘Which greedy fool sold his daughter to the monster’s mouth?’

These people, who prided themselves on ambition, all thought the same thing while maintaining bright, polite smiles.

“And who might that fortunate lady be?”

“The eldest daughter of Viscount Everchen, Lady Agnes Everchen. A lady among ladies, praised by everyone who knows her. I only hope my brother will not fade in her presence. Do you not agree?”

The moment her words ended, the hall erupted in murmurs. Whispered conversations rippled across the long table like waves.

‘Agnes Everchen? The woman who was thrown out of Overhen’s house not long ago?’

No one dared speak openly, yet all of them whispered to one another, and Cali heard every word.

She chuckled quietly, the corner of her mouth lifting.

“No one has an answer? How bold.”

At her cool voice, those nearest to her immediately straightened in alarm, nodding eagerly.

“Ah, indeed, Your Majesty is right. Lady Everchen is a most distinguished woman. She and His Grace will make a splendid pair.”

“Of course. When she first debuted in society, every young nobleman was captivated.”

“Truly, Viscount Everchen, congratulations. This is an honor beyond measure.”

Their confusion vanished as quickly as it had come. Smiles bloomed on every face, voices warm and congratulatory, though none of it was sincere.

A few curious glances shifted toward Rickman Overhen, but those eyes quickly turned away again.

The Viscount, now thrust into the spotlight, could not tell whether to blush in shame or beam in pride. He simply smiled awkwardly and nodded along.

Rickman, still seated, clinked glasses with the man beside him as though nothing had happened. Then, without drawing notice, he quietly slipped out of the hall.

Compared to the noisy banquet, the corridor outside was eerily still.

A servant waiting in the shadows approached nervously.

“My lord, you are leaving already? Are you unwell—”

Before he could finish, Rickman kicked him sharply in the stomach.

Thud.

The dull impact sent the servant sprawling across the marble floor without a sound.

Rickman closed his eyes for a brief moment, rolling them as if to calm his temper.

When he opened them again, his expression was composed, betraying no sign of what he had just done.

“Tsk.”

Clicking his tongue, he slipped off his coat and dropped it where the servant should have been standing. The man scrambled up, trembling, to catch it before it hit the ground.

Without sparing him a glance, Rickman strode down the hall as though he owned it.

Only a few maids and footmen were present, glancing at him anxiously after the commotion.

But he ignored them entirely, his proud stride revealing what he truly thought of those beneath him. They were not people, only tools.

Climbing into his carriage, Rickman spoke curtly to his secretary.

“My wife is to marry the Duke of Vasteron. Find out everything about it.”

“Yes, my lord.”

Though he had called his divorced wife “my wife,” the secretary did not so much as flinch.

Rickman leaned back into the cushioned seat, folding his arms tightly. The air around him grew heavy and menacing, nothing like the polished composure he had shown at the palace.

“How dare they.”

His face twisted with fury before he drew a deep breath, slowly steadying himself.

There was no need to be shaken by the gossip of fools.

Still, the voices echoed in his mind.

“Thrown out of Overhen and now marrying into Vasteron? That woman certainly knows how to climb.”

“Who would have guessed that quiet lady could be so shameless after all she went through?”

Agnes.

There was no way she would ever make such a choice.

No, it must have been that foolish Viscount and his wife who had sold off their daughter together.

He had expected them to marry her off to some aging noble for a second marriage, but the Duke of Vasteron? Even he was surprised by that.

Who would have thought such greedy little rats could manage something like this?

He let out a soft, humorless laugh.

The situation had grown complicated, yes, but there was no reason for panic. What bothered him was that someone else now dared to lay claim to what was his.

‘By now, Agnes must have come to her senses.’

He had meant to punish her a little longer, but perhaps it was time to bring things to an end. He could not let her actually fall into another man’s hands.

Retrieving her would cost some effort, but that was not what bothered him most. The thought of his beautiful Agnes being tainted by another man was unbearable.

Closing his eyes with an exhausted expression, Rickman recalled Noah’s visit from not long ago.

The boy had always been timid and fearful, flinching whenever they crossed paths.

Yet he had gathered his courage for one reason, written on a crisp sheet of paper.

“When will Mother come home?”

He had been the only one who could answer that question, so of course the boy had come to him. For all his fear, the child was not foolish.

‘Your mother has realized her mistakes. She will be back soon.’

At those words, Noah’s face had lit up with hope.

Seeing that, Rickman had been reminded of a simple truth. A child needs his mother. And in truth, there was no one who could care for Noah as tenderly as Agnes could.

She was emotional, yes, and sometimes too softhearted, insisting that affection mattered more than strict education. But she was a woman, fragile and sentimental by nature. With his guidance, she would learn again how to be proper.

‘So come back to me now, Agnes.’