(Zelene's POV)
The carriage wheels sang against the cobbled road, carrying us closer to the heart of the capital. I'd been here before, of course — born into its glittering, poisonous splendor — but this time, it felt different. This time, I wasn't returning as Lady Zelene Evandelle, daughter of the Duke of Law and Order.
No.
This time, I was the fiancée of Duke Kael Dravenhart.
And that, apparently, was cause for an entire kingdom's worth of whispers.
The journey took three days — three very, very long days — and by the end of it, I was fairly certain Ray was one wrong comment away from throwing himself off the moving carriage just to escape my chatter. Kael, of course, endured it all in silence, reading reports as though the world outside didn't exist.
The capital loomed ahead, its towers catching the fading sun like gilded spears. The air carried that same familiar scent — honeyed perfume, iron from the gates, and the faint rot of hypocrisy that every noble learned to breathe like air.
We arrived at the Evandelle manor first — my family's temporary residence during the season. The façade was grand as always: columns of white stone, sprawling gardens, and a fountain that sang too loudly in the quiet afternoon.
I'd invited my family, naturally — Father, Mother, Caelan, and little Elara. Seeing them again stirred something warm and aching inside me. But this wasn't a simple reunion. It was a stage.
And I was the performance.
Because tomorrow night, the capital would host a ball— a celebration of alliances, commerce, and of course, gossip. And this year's main spectacle? The sudden engagement between Evandelle's daughter and Dravenhart's reclusive Duke.
Lovely.
I wasn't nervous.
...Okay, maybe I was slightly nervous.
But who wouldn't be? I had personally invited every influential noble — the Houses of Valemont, Rosewald, and the rest of the Four Swords. And, in a stroke of what I now suspected was temporary insanity.
I'd even sent an invitation to the royal family. To my horror, one of them actually accepted.
Only one.
The Crown Prince himself.
Prince Adrien — the golden heir of the empire, beloved by the court, charming to a fault, and the kind of man who could make people believe his lies tasted like honey.
I'd met him only once before — at a banquet when I was younger. He had smiled at me then, a sharp, calculating smile that saw too much. And now he was coming.
Kael was not amused when I told him.
"The prince?" he repeated flatly. "You invited him?"
I'd shrugged. "He's part of the social hierarchy, isn't he? What better way to legitimize your position than to have royalty in attendance?"
He'd given me one of those looks — the kind that said I'm regretting every decision that led me to this moment.
Apparently, Kael and the crown prince had a... history. Nothing spoken aloud, but enough tension to freeze the room whenever their names were mentioned together. The prince represented everything Kael wasn't — charm, diplomacy, and favor in the court. Kael represented everything the prince feared — power, rebellion, and truth that didn't bend easily.
So yes, this was going to be fun.
The evening before the ball, I found myself surrounded by tailors, seamstresses, and the kind of chaos only silk and ego could create. I had personally chosen the design of my dress — deep crimson with gold embroidery curling along the hem, like flames licking the edges of starlight. The neckline swept low enough to scandalize, but elegant enough to silence any gossip about impropriety.
A declaration.
Not of vanity — but of ownership.
If they were going to talk, I might as well give them something worth remembering.
Kael, on the other hand...
"Black," he said simply, staring at the rack of suits I'd ordered.
I sighed. "Kael, you can't just wear black to an imperial ball. That's like showing up to war in your sleepwear."
He raised an eyebrow. "It's a formal color."
"It's boring," I countered, holding up a dark navy ensemble with silver threading that caught the light like ice. "Try this."
He didn't move.
I crossed my arms. "Do it, or I'll tell Darius you let me pick your outfit because you were scared of color."
That earned me the faintest twitch of his mouth — almost a smile. Almost.
"...Fine."
The next evening, when he finally emerged from his chambers, I almost forgot how to breathe.
The navy coat fit perfectly — sharp at the shoulders, tailored to his frame, with silver cuffs and a faint pattern etched like frost along the edges. The muted jewel tones softened his usual severity, making his eyes seem even more piercing. His hair was neatly combed back, though a stubborn lock refused to obey, falling across his brow.
He looked every inch the noble he was rumored not to be — and infinitely more dangerous for it.
The servants went quiet when he stepped into the hall. Even Darius blinked once, as though trying to make sure his eyes weren't deceiving him.
And me?
I smirked, utterly shameless.
Hmph. Take that, you judgmental nobles.
If they thought Duke Kael Dravenhart was some brooding hermit who didn't belong in their golden halls — they were in for a surprise.
Tomorrow night, the world would see.
And for the first time since I arrived in this strange, foreign life, I almost — almost — looked forward to it.
---
The capital never failed to dazzle. Every corner of it gleamed as if the city itself wanted to impress the nobility flooding its gates. Lanterns floated above the streets like tiny golden suns, carriages rolled in with banners and family crests, and the air hummed with the sound of violins spilling from the imperial hall ahead.
Inside our carriage, the mood was... oddly calm.
Kael sat across from me, impossibly composed as always — yet tonight, he was different. Not in demeanor, but in how the light clung to him.
He wore the deep navy coat I'd chosen — fitted perfectly to his frame, the silver embroidery along his sleeves glinting every time the carriage lantern swayed. The crisp white of his cravat contrasted sharply against his skin, and his hair, usually a tousled mess, was neatly combed back... save for one rebellious strand that refused to stay in place. It fell over his temple, softening his otherwise stoic face.
And his eyes — stars above — that glacial blue could freeze someone in place, yet when he looked out the window, they almost seemed... tired.
I took a breath, pretending to straighten my gloves, but really? I was stealing another glance.
Yup. I bit back a grin. He is definitely my type.
It was a shame, though. A tragic, infuriating shame that this arrangement was nothing but an act. I sighed inwardly. The world truly had no sense of humor.
He caught my gaze then, arching a brow. "What?"
"Nothing," I said too quickly. "Just thinking about how well my dress matches your coat. Perfect coordination, if I do say so myself."
Kael's lips twitched. "Is that what you've been thinking about for the last ten minutes?"
"Among other things."
The corner of his mouth lifted — that barely-there smirk that could almost be mistaken for amusement. "I should have known."
The carriage slowed as the grand gates of the Imperial Palace loomed ahead, gilded with gold filigree and flanked by guards in crimson livery. Beyond it, a flood of nobles in silks and jewels moved beneath chandeliers so vast they looked like fallen stars.
The noise — laughter, gossip, and the occasional shrill delight — reached us even through the carriage walls.
I inhaled slowly, smoothing my dress. It was a gown of deep red silk, sleeveless with gold-traced vines curling up the bodice — elegant but sharp. The kind of dress that said I know exactly what I'm doing.
Kael's gaze flicked toward me then, slow and assessing. His voice came quiet, but deliberate.
"Are you ready?"
I looked at him, meeting that glacier-blue stare with a grin. "I was born ready."
He exhaled, almost as if bracing himself for impact.
"Let's give them a good performance, shall we?" I added, my tone light but my heart quickening beneath my ribs.
As the carriage door opened, the night air rushed in — perfumed, warm, alive with expectation. The footman bowed. "Duke Dravenhart. Lady Evandelle."
Kael stepped out first, every inch the untouchable Duke — posture straight, movements precise, presence commanding enough that nearby nobles turned instinctively. Then, he turned and extended a gloved hand toward me.
I placed my hand in his. His touch was steady, warm — grounding.
As I stepped down, whispers already rippled through the crowd.
"Is that really the Duke Dravenhart?"
"He's... quite handsome, isn't he?"
"Did you see Lady Evandelle's dress? Bold choice!"
Oh, I heard them all. And I smiled.
The ballroom doors opened before us, spilling golden light across marble floors. A thousand eyes turned. The orchestra paused for only a heartbeat before continuing, but the air — the air was different now.
Kael's hand rested lightly on my back, guiding me forward with effortless grace. We walked side by side, the illusion of a perfect couple.
My lips curved into a confident smirk. Showtime.
The nobles bowed, curtsied, and gossiped in hushed tones. The Emperor's herald announced us —
"Presenting, His Grace Duke Kael Dravenhart of the Northern Territories and his betrothed, Lady Zelene Evandelle!"
The words echoed like a challenge through the grand hall.
I lifted my chin, meeting their gazes head-on, letting the weight of their scrutiny slide right off me. The chandeliers shimmered above, the music swelled — and every whisper, every judgment, became the very stage I'd prepared for.
Kael leaned slightly toward me, his tone barely above a murmur. "You seem to be enjoying this."
"Of course I am," I replied sweetly. "You should too. After all, tonight the nobles are realizing that Duke Dravenhart is... quite the catch."
He shot me a sidelong look — a silent don't start.
I grinned wider. Oh, but I already have.
And as we stepped further into the ballroom, the Crown Prince himself — Adrien, all gold and charm — turned from the center dais to greet us, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips.
Kael's hand subtly tightened on mine.
Well.
This was about to get interesting.