Before I knew it, my engagement ceremony with Masera was fast approaching.
"An estimate of the engagement ceremony budget is here. First you need to review and approve it… Also, if you could let me know who you'd like to invite, we'll send out the invitations…"
"But we've already filed the marriage registration, haven't we? Do we really need an engagement ceremony?"
Why are we doing this?
I had been questioning it all along.
The aide gave me a flimsy answer.
"It's just for formality."
I was the type who couldn't let questions go unanswered. So I headed straight to the mansion library and read through a family law book thoroughly.
And I discovered that 'as a customary practice, the marriage must be completed with a ceremony for the registration documents to be fully finalized.'
But nowhere did it say the engagement ceremony was a must.
Having finished getting ready, I gazed at the cars lining up outside the residence.
Then, checking the time, I immediately stood and made my way to Masera's office.
Knock knock
With a knock, I opened the door and found Masera dressed in formal military uniform.
Regardless of how he felt about me, we had to enter the engagement hall together, so I had come to escort him.
"I'm here to escort you. Don't I look great?"
I didn't expect a response.
Masera, seated at his desk, remained expressionless and kept his eyes on the documents.
Lifting the hem of my skirt slightly, I spoke with a bright tone.
"The engagement dress you prepared is absolutely beautiful. You really have an eye for this sort of thing!"
I gave a graceful twirl to show it off, only for his face to harden completely.
"That dress was sent by your brother, Young Count Carlos."
That damned Carlos sent this? I quickly dropped my expression.
"Oh, I meant that sarcastically. It's actually not that great. Should I change into something else?"
Lowering his gaze with an icy look, Masera finally spoke.
"I don't care what you wear—"
"You mean I look good no matter what? Thank you."
"I couldn't care less."
"Of course, no need to thank me then?"
He managed to finish what he wanted to say, and I used my unbeatable skill: hearing only what I wanted to hear.
Still expressionless, he waved his hand.
"I have urgent documents to handle. Please just sit somewhere."
"Where should I sit?"
"Stand, if you prefer. And I would be grateful if you could keep your mouth shut for just ten minutes."
What should I do with that formally rude mouth of his?
In protest, I stood tall right in front of him.
About ten minutes passed like that.
Time's up—I can speak now.
I opened my mouth.
"Please act affectionate in front of my family. Like we're madly in-love with each other."
"I told you not to make demands. And it hasn't been ten minutes yet."
"You said a marriage isn't legally recognized until a wedding takes place, right? What if my very loving father gets upset and tries to annul the engagement?"
Masera silently looked at me.
During that silent 9.5 minutes, I had already finished examining the blueprints and papers partially visible on his desk.
In noble marriages, each side exchanges what they want.
What Masera had demanded from Count Queensguard was a barren land called 'Nox.'
The Count offered a fake bride in exchange for a huge deal, and what he got was useless land?
[Bariesa Royal Family Estate]
From the documents, I could tell it was royal property.
Masera had a different reason for wanting land that would even cost more in taxes.
[Large-scale Development Project Plan]
If development—railways and more—was being planned there, that land held massive value.
There was a good chance that large reserves of resources were buried there.
No wonder Masera wouldn't want this marriage to fall apart.
Of course, there's no way money-crazed Count Queensguard didn't know this.
I recalled something I read in that family law book and clenched my fist.
[In cases where a spouse dies within one year of marriage, the dowry is returned to the spouse's family]
The Count was playing the long con.
He planned to reclaim the land after development started with Masera's capital—through my death.
At least the good news is that Masera won't kill me.
At least not for the next year.
If I want to avoid being killed by the Count within that time, and be able to negotiate even if my identity is revealed later, I need Masera's trust.
Winning his heart is the answer, right?
"…Let's go."
Having finished his work, Masera stood and straightened his clothes.
I matched his long, brisk strides and said,
"Should we come up with pet names to seem like we're madly in love?"
That way the Count wouldn't dare lay a hand on me.
"Over my dead body."
He said it with the most terrifying expression imaginable.
Geez, such a cranky cheese-cat.* What don't you hate?
* * *
The banquet hall hosting the engagement ceremony was crowded with guests.
A noblewoman pointed somewhere and whispered to her companions.
"Look, House Queensguard is here."
Where she pointed, Count Queensguard, Helene, Carlos, and Edford were surrounded by people.
It was the first time the veiled heirs of House Queensguard had shown their faces in society.
"They're all quite attractive."
"Looks like they take after their father."
People couldn't even imagine that Edford, with such a different appearance, was part of the Queensguard family.
Meanwhile, holding a glass of champagne, Carlos was staring intently at today's star—Cynthia, standing on the stairs of the engagement venue.
Dressed in a luxurious gown and adorned with jewels, her beauty was enough to catch the eyes of every man in the hall.
Standing beside her was Masera, looking somewhat stern but wearing a faint smile.
"I've never seen such a perfect couple. Like a painting."
Even from a distance, their dazzling looks earned them endless praise.
Carlos felt a strange twist in his gut.
Just then, Helene's fiancé, Duke Rukanosa, appeared at the banquet.
With dark hair and ice-blue eyes, he was a tall and handsome man.
"Thank you, Duke, for coming to my sister's engagement."
Helene blushed as she spoke, and the Duke gave a slight nod.
"It was only natural. I have ties to Brigadier General Vicente as well."
The Duke glanced around the hall.
This residence had once belonged to his uncle, the former Commander-in-Chief.
He had once aspired to follow in his uncle's footsteps, but he could never surpass Masera's talent.
From then on, the label of 'the one who lost to a war orphan' followed him.
He felt both inferiority and superiority toward Masera.
Masera marrying Cynthia Queensguard was clearly to disrupt and block his plans.
"How have you been, Duke?"
Count Queensguard warmly greeted the Duke with proper etiquette.
Their handshake was charged with subtle tension.
"It's been a while."
Count Queensguard was a shrewd man.
He had told the Duke that after sending Masera a fake bride, he would dispose of her before the one-year marriage law period ended.
It was an offer the Duke welcomed.
'A war orphan, no matter how hard he tries, can never become the real deal like me.'
Holding a fake in his hands, Masera would chase illusions forever and eventually be the one losing.
Just as the Duke basked in his sense of victory, he spotted Cynthia descending the stairs.
Her hair, golden under the chandelier light, turned completely silver under the lower lights.
'So that's the fake bride?'
There was a tale in the Bariesa Royal Family that sometimes, by the blessing of the winter god, a child as white as snow would be born.
The Count had picked the perfect fake—or so he thought.
As Cynthia drew closer, the Duke's eyes gradually widened.
"Hello, Duke. It's a pleasure to meet you."
With a bright smile, she looked exactly like Princess Margarita, whom he had seen long ago in the palace when he was just a boy.
Princess Margarita.
The last surviving royal and the former Countess of Queensguard.
Cynthia wore the same clear, radiant smile the Duke remembered from his childhood.
Count Queensguard leaned in and whispered to the Duke, who was staring blankly at her.
"Fortunate, isn't it? That you're not the one being duped right now."
"…Unbelievable."
He had briefly doubted it, but the idea of using a maid—especially one that could help immensely in the marriage market—as a royal descendant made no sense.
The Duke composed himself and returned a polite smile.
"Lady Cynthia. May the grace of the gods bless your future."
"Thank you, Your Grace."
Cynthia was completely unaware that the Duke now knew who she really was.
Helene approached with a champagne glass in hand and raised it slightly toward Cynthia.
"Cindy, are you liking life in the capital?"
"Yup."
Cynthia casually responded informally.
Helene took her hand with a fond smile still lingering on her face.
"I'm so glad we're living in the same city now."
"I know, isn't it? Absolutely wonderful. Duke, is it okay if I drop by to visit my sister often?"
Her innocent question made the Duke nod without hesitation.
"Of course. You're welcome anytime."
"Please take good care of my pretty sister. She acts all aloof like a cat, but inside she's as soft as a baby mouse."
Helene's expression shifted slightly at that comment.
'Did she just insult me? Or am I overthinking this?'
Whether it was meant as backhanded shade or a compliment was unclear.
Still, the makeshift image of family they had created looked surprisingly natural—largely thanks to how effortlessly Cynthia played her part.
"Brother Edford, your nose looks even bigger. Is it still growing?"
"How rude…!"
Edford turned red as Cynthia leaned in and whispered in his ear.
"That's what real siblings are like. Try to keep up."
"Then why do you keep speaking informally to me?"
"I'm part of the family now, aren't I?"
"Ugh…"
He almost blurted, 'You're just a lowly maid,' but managed to swallow it down. If he said it out loud, they'd all be dead.
Cynthia knew that perfectly well. That's why she wielded her sarcasm like a dagger, so openly.
Just then, Masera approached with a plate of cake and came to stand beside Cynthia.
Edford, momentarily stunned, found himself staring. The man's solid build in uniform and his striking looks were difficult to ignore.
"Thank you for coming. I hope you enjoy some time with your family—it's been a while, after all."
Masera seemed ready to make a polite exit after the brief greeting, but Cynthia casually linked arms with him, effectively keeping him in place.
"Honey, what took you so long?"
Honey? Masera's lips flattened into a line before he quickly relaxed them, glancing around.
She had given him strict orders: 'Look like you're madly in love with me in front of my family.'
Of course, he had no intention of actually obeying her. Absolutely not.
Lifting his chin with dignified arrogance, Masera replied coolly,
"There was strawberry cake over there."
"Oh? That's my favorite! You brought it just for me, didn't you? So sweet."
He hadn't meant to do any such thing, but Cynthia twisted it that way without missing a beat.
She plucked a strawberry right off the top of his cake and popped it in her mouth.
Masera stared down at the now-defiled slice.
'…This is infuriating.'
And yet she smiled brightly, as if she'd done nothing wrong.
"Is it good?"
"Yes! It tastes even better because it's from you, Brigadier General."
Masera couldn't shake the feeling that she was completely running circles around him.
Still, he was good at hiding his emotions—So from the outside, he looked like a man secretly smitten with his fiancée.
"Cindy, you two already seem so close."
It was Carlos's voice.
Masera turned to find Carlos looking at him, face stiff.
He remembered the ugly rumors he'd heard through Dahlia—about some unpleasant scandal between Cynthia and Carlos.
There was no solid proof, but when it came to gossip, truth was irrelevant.
Cynthia gave a confident nod and tightened her grip on Masera's arm.
"Of course. He fell for me at first sight."
'When did I?'
Masera furrowed his brow, and Cynthia glanced up at him.
"Same here. I fell for him at first sight too."
The moment she said it, a jolt ran through him. Something sharp lodged itself in his chest.
'What a troublesome woman.'
Masera let out a deep sigh and ran a hand through his bangs.
Meanwhile, the Count Queensguard watched their subtle exchange with an inner grimace.
'…So even Brigadier General Vicente is just a man in the end. Who'd have thought he'd act like a tamed mutt in front of her.'
He had already suspected Cynthia was no ordinary woman, seeing how she had Edford and Carlos wrapped around her finger.
And the Duke was discreetly observing the pair as well.
'You're telling me she managed to change him this much, this fast?'
Having served in the military with Masera, he was well-acquainted with the man's cold personality.
The Masera he knew would never let someone steal a strawberry from his cake.
'Might be a waste to just use her as a pawn and toss her aside.'
Narrowing his eyes, the Duke stared at Cynthia.
Thinking of Masera falling hopelessly in love with her—and being tormented when she was gone—didn't seem like such a bad outcome.
* * *
As the party hit its stride, Cynthia poked Masera's arm while watching the couples dance in the hall.
Masera, hiding another plate of strawberry cake behind his back, looked down at her.
"Ask me to dance. They say the man's supposed to initiate."
He tilted his head slightly, intrigued.
Most nobles hid their true feelings, and rarely asked for things so directly.
"What if I say no?"
"I'll dance with someone else. Maybe Eugene."
Far off in the distance, Eugene—who had just made eye contact with Cynthia—was now hiding behind Dahlia.
Just then, someone stepped forward and extended a hand toward her.
"Brigadier General Vicente. Mind if I borrow Cindy for a moment?"
It was Carlos, wearing a gentle smile.
Masera dropped his gaze and stared at him.
Why does he keep trying to pick a fight?
"You refer to her like she's an object."
Carlos shook his head and smiled like it was nothing.
"Of course not. She's my dearest little sister. I just want to dance with her—it's been a while."
Cynthia frowned as she watched the two men quietly clash.
'What's Carlos's problem? Did the cold weather freeze his brain?'
In her memories, Carlos had always been emotionally distant, cold whenever she reached out.
He only showed kindness right when she was ready to give up.
'Whatever, I'll just eat cookies with Eugene.'
Cynthia took three steps toward Eugene—
And suddenly felt a chill on her back.
At the same time—
CRASH—!
A chandelier hanging from the ceiling came crashing down and shattered.
"Wh-what the—?!"
Gasps and screams rippled through the crowd.
Cynthia stared at the spot where she'd just been standing—where the shards now lay—and swallowed dryly.
Then her gaze met Masera's.
He was standing right behind her, one hand slightly outstretched.
There was a flicker of alarm in his eyes before it quickly vanished.
"It doesn't seem like you're hurt."
Really! That's it? Not even a 'Thank god you're okay'?
Cynthia looked stunned.
Carlos rushed over, full of fake concern.
"Cindy! Are you okay? Are you hurt?"
Thankfully, no one was injured. After a brief moment to clean up, the party resumed.
Then a politician raised a champagne glass and boomed,
"Ha ha! We need to lift the mood again. Don't they say royals are born with special abilities? Lady Cynthia, your unique appearance—surely it comes with a unique talent. Care to show us?"
He was a commoner-turned-lawmaker, known to oppose the monarchy.
His comment dripped with provocation, and all eyes turned to her.
Edford stepped up, eager to humiliate her.
"Of course, Congressman. Cynthia here has an especially rare talent."
Count Queensguard gave her a subtle look.
Now that it had come to this, she'd have to show them something.
'Come to think of it, I was warned that anti-royal guests would be attending.'
Cynthia had already scanned and cataloged every guest in the room.
She smiled brightly.
"I'll show you."
She had a servant bring her pen and paper.
"Since I was little, I've always been able to guess what people were thinking. I'm not sure why."
She met eyes with the congressman.
Looking into her crimson eyes, he felt as though something had taken hold of him.
Then her voice—low and calm—echoed in his mind.
"It's almost like I can read your thoughts."
His pupils trembled slightly.
'If you've staked your life on something, then you'd better be ready to deceive the entire world.'
Cynthia's red eyes glinted with an uncanny light.