Chapter 28

For nobles, rank and reputation were as precious as life itself.

No father would want to see his daughter’s honor dragged through the mud by a shameless man like Rickman.

“What is all this noise at such a lovely party?”

Just as Rickman found himself cornered, Marchioness Norris appeared. She had changed into another elegant dress, likely after stepping away to freshen up.

Her face was tight with displeasure, clearly unhappy that the party she had so carefully prepared had descended into chaos.

Her sharp gaze swept across the guests until it landed on Agnes.

“Lady Everchen, what happened to your face? You didn’t look like that when you first arrived.”

Agnes felt the weight of every curious eye turn toward her, but she remained calm and covered her cheek lightly.

“I’m fine. It’s just a small scratch.”

Then, almost imperceptibly, her eyes flicked toward Rickman.

Naturally, the others followed her gaze.

The curiosity in their eyes quickly shifted into disgust.

Instead of questioning Agnes further, Marchioness Norris walked straight to Rickman.

“Count Overhen. You’ve seemed very busy lately, and you look quite tired. Don’t mind this old woman. You should go home and rest.”

Even her polite words carried a clear message: leave.

Rickman’s face paled with shock, then flushed red with humiliation.

He tried to salvage his dignity by bowing over her hand and brushing a kiss across it, but Marchioness Norris blatantly ignored him, letting the insult hang in the air.

Grinding his teeth, Rickman had no choice but to leave.

After that, the party finally calmed.

People were still wary of approaching Dylan directly, but with Agnes by his side, they found it easier to speak.

Some even took the chance to flatter him, hoping for favor.

Dylan showed no reaction, yet Agnes noticed the faintest twitch in his brow each time.

He had never liked crowded places. He was here only for her.

Everything that needed to be shown had already been shown. It was time to leave.

Agnes touched her no-longer-hurting cheek and said playfully, “It still aches a little.”

Dylan immediately caught on to her intention.

He leaned closer, lowering his tall frame to meet her eyes, and brushed her cheek with a gentle hand.

“You should have it treated properly.”

“What should I do if Marchioness Norris gets offended?”

“She’ll understand.”

Still holding her protectively, he led her over to the Marchioness to say their goodbyes.

Though the Marchioness looked disappointed, she didn’t stop them. After all, Agnes had gone through quite an ordeal tonight.

Several young ladies Agnes had spoken with earlier also expressed their regret at parting and promised to meet again soon, leaving her feeling lighter as she exited the ballroom.

It had been so long since she’d been surrounded by kind faces.

Her steps felt lighter than air.

Dylan was confident that, once the trial began, Noah would soon be with them. Rickman would no longer be able to approach her.

All of it was thanks to Dylan.

Even as she sat in the carriage, Agnes couldn’t calm her racing heart. Her chest felt so full that it was almost frightening. Everything was finally moving in the right direction.

Dylan, sitting across from her, studied her flushed face with quiet concern.

“I thought you were pretending to be unwell to leave early. Are you truly feeling sick?”

“No, not at all. That was just an excuse.”

Her cheeks, however, were pink with warmth. The normally composed and intelligent light in her eyes was replaced by a restless glow, and Dylan found himself unable to look away.

Cali’s teasing words lingered in his ears, something about his taste in calm and proper women.

He had dismissed it as nonsense. Their relationship was a contract, and they were to live as partners, nothing more. Personal preference didn’t matter.

Yet whenever his gaze lingered on her, Agnes didn’t seem simply graceful. She looked like a woman hiding something secret and tender.

Once she had calmed down, Agnes suddenly looked up and said,

“Marchioness Norris seems very fond of you, Your Grace.”

“I used to see her often when the late Emperor was alive. She liked me because I played chess better than His Majesty.”

He paused, glancing at her expression.

Her face was calm as always, but her golden eyes shone with curiosity.

It wasn’t the polite interest of gossip like the nobles at the party. It was genuine interest in him.

And Dylan found that he didn’t mind it.

“She had the rare privilege of putting the young Crown Prince above even the Emperor himself. No matter how the Emperor complained, she never yielded.”

“True affection comes from the heart. Rank doesn’t matter in that.”

Agnes smiled, clearly enjoying the story.

“You like hearing things like that?”

“Yes. You seem different when you’re with people you’re close to.”

Dylan disagreed.

That kind of description might suit Cali, who had to hide her playfulness behind royal decorum, or Serene, who pretended to be a quiet lady.

Even the High Priest, who had watched the royal siblings since childhood, had never said such a thing to him.

And yet here was Agnes, claiming he changed among friends.

She giggled softly. “You don’t believe me, do you?”

“Because I don’t think it’s true.”

Instead of arguing, Agnes tilted her head and gave a tiny shrug, playful and unguarded. Dylan thought, not for the first time, that she was the one who changed depending on who was watching.

Was the perfect, refined lady the real Agnes, or was it this curious, bright-eyed woman sitting before him?

He suddenly wondered what she would be like when she finally reunited with Noah.

Would she be the gentlest, most loving mother in the world? Or would she be firm and strict? Or perhaps she’d meet her son as a friend, matching his level with warmth and patience.

Whatever the answer, Dylan found himself looking forward to the day Noah came to live at the Vasteron estate.

* * *

Before the trial began, Agnes announced that she wanted to visit the Overhen townhouse. Everyone in the Vasteron household immediately objected.

“I really must protest, my lady. I’ve heard enough bad things about that scoundrel—pardon me, about the Count—to fill a book. I know you’ll handle it wisely, but there’s no reason to go walk into trouble yourself.”

That was Sharon, the head maid.

“I’m against it as well. Even when he was confronted by armed knights, that man didn’t show the slightest fear. People like that are either confident in their strength or insane. I’m sure you know which one he is better than we do.”

That was Pavel, her assigned knight since her visit to the information agency.

“Count Overhen’s reputation is at its worst right now. As His Grace’s fiancée, you shouldn’t have to face someone like him.”

Even Gavelin, who was usually stiff and formal with her, voiced his concern in what could almost be called a scolding tone.

Only Dylan had a different opinion.

“If you’re willing to go with the escort I’ll arrange, then go.”

“Truly?”

“You can go anywhere you wish, as long as you come back to me.”

The room fell silent. The words sounded almost romantic, enough to make the servants glance away awkwardly. Even Agnes’s cheeks warmed.

But they had a contract, and it was natural for Dylan to expect her safe return. She pressed a hand to her chest to calm herself.

“My place is here in Vasteron now. You don’t have to worry.”

Her answer made Dylan smile with quiet satisfaction.

She realized then that it was nearly time to offer him blood again. After visiting the Overhen townhouse, she could report back to him and arrange their next… meal.

“I’ll be back before dinner.”

She looked at him steadily as she said it, and Dylan seemed to understand what she meant. He nodded once.

He never looked pleased about it. Dylan didn’t enjoy feeding from her.

But instead of showing the self-loathing she sometimes caught glimpses of, he merely slipped back into his perfect royal composure.

“Go, then. I’ll have Pavel handle the escort.”

As always, Dylan was both her best partner and an unyielding wall.

And she knew, deep down, that she might never be able to climb over that wall for as long as she lived.