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‘Wouldn’t it be fine for me to just go back home now?’

The Imperial banquet, held to celebrate the victory in the Kifren War, was blindingly magnificent. The sheer scale of it was overwhelming, and standing alone against the wall, failing to receive a single dance invitation, only deepened her sense of isolation.

Harriet looked around, gauging the room to see if she could slip away unnoticed.

Her uncle, Viscount Listerwell, was nearby, but he was busy parading his son, Aston, before various acquaintances, desperate to make an impression. He spared no glance for Harriet. Even if he hadn’t been occupied, it was unlikely he would have spared her a thought.

‘Where are my aunt and Bella?’

Her aunt was nowhere to be seen. In all likelihood, she had already retreated to a side room with the other ladies, kicked off her shoes, and settled into a comfortable gossip session.

Harriet scanned the groups of young men one last time. Bella would be there.

Sure enough, Bella was surrounded by a dense circle of admirers, flanked by her usual retinue of friends.

‘Typical of the Golden Rose of Genoa.’

Harriet tightened her jaw, forcing a neutral expression to mask the sneer that threatened to break through.

Did those men have any idea what lay behind that angelically bright smile?

Having confirmed that the Viscount’s family was preoccupied with their own social climbing, Harriet turned toward the exit.

But at that moment, the room plunged into pitch black.

“Huh? What is this?”

“Is it a power outage?”

The crowd around her surged in confusion, their voices sharp with alarm. They were clearly as bewildered as she was, though surely not as flustered as Harriet, whose escape plan had just been derailed.

Soon, an Imperial protocol officer shouted over the murmur.

“Please stay calm! We will turn on the emergency lighting shortly!”

The servants, apparently prepared for this, quickly lit oil lamps. As the conductor signaled for a violin performance to fill the void, the soft, amber glow transformed the chaos into an intimate, atmospheric scene.

The guests, now relieved, realized the true nature of the darkness.

“Ah! This must be the brooch-pinning event!”

“I’d heard it was a new trend at recent banquets, but I didn’t know the Imperial Family would adopt it, too.”

“Since the war is over, I suppose they’re encouraging us to find our partners. Ho ho ho.”

Secretly pinning a brooch to a lady’s dress had become the height of romantic confession.

A lady would spend the blackout imagining the owner of the pin she held, only to face either joy or crushing disappointment when the man approached her days later to say, “I’ve come to retrieve what I entrusted to you.” Naturally, as the world rarely catered to such dreams, disappointment was far more common.

“It’s also quite the spectacle to see whose dress collects the most pins.”

“Won’t that young lady Bella be in first place again?”

Harriet, bracing herself against the careless men rushing past, let out a soft, dry laugh.

‘She’ll pretend to be modest, weighed down by all those trinkets. And she’ll likely ruin the dresses of the girls standing near her, too.’

The men wouldn’t have an easy time of it either. Bella was charming to the gentlemen who courted her, but she drew a razor-sharp line with those who dared to be too bold.

‘If it were me, I’d at least shed a tear in gratitude.’

Harriet clicked her tongue.

If someone were to pin a brooch to her dress, she would marry him—provided he didn’t have any glaring defects. What did a minor flaw matter if it meant ending her existence as a dependent in her uncle’s home?

But no brooch would ever find its way to her.

“Oh! Who is that?”

“Eek!”

Shrieks of feigned shock and coquettish delight erupted throughout the hall. Avoiding the spectacle, Harriet let out a shallow sigh and waited for the light to return.

Five minutes passed in the stifling, bustling dark. Finally, the chandeliers overhead flickered and burst into a blinding, steady radiance.

The band resumed their piece, and the room dissolved into a flurry of activity as ladies began checking their hemlines for the results of the hidden confessions.

Harriet was about to slip away when a voice cut through the air behind her.

“Oh my, Harriet! What is that?”

Bella, who had been across the hall when the lights went out, was now standing just a few paces away, pointing at Harriet’s skirt.

‘When did she get over here?’

Harriet, startled, followed Bella’s finger.

Pinned to the hem of the modest dress she had tailored for the night was a ruby brooch—elegant, vibrant, and undeniably expensive.

“W-what is this?”

Harriet froze, her eyes wide, as Bella stepped closer.

“Someone must want to confess to you! Looking at such a deep red ruby, they must be a very passionate person, don’t you think?”

“Huh? T-that’s impossible…”

“Is there no one who comes to mind?”

“No! Not at all. They must have mistaken me for someone else. It was pitch black, after all.”

“No way, that’s impossible! Harriet, you are truly so humble.”

Bella laughed, a sound like glass beads hitting a floor, and tapped Harriet on the shoulder. Her laughter acted as a siren, drawing her friends and admirers into a tight, judgmental circle around them.

The gazes directed at Harriet were cold, sharpened by skepticism.

“How interesting. Who on earth could it be? The man who desires Miss Harriet Listerwell.”

“Well, tastes do vary, I suppose.”

“Is this a matter of taste? It’s a matter of reputation.”

Each word was tossed out like a jest, yet aimed with the precision of a dagger.

Harriet, as she always did, chose to play the fool. She had no one to defend her, and there was no profit in a retort. Instead, she unpinned the ruby to examine it.

The size of the stone alone was worth a fortune, but the intricate platinum setting and the quality of the surrounding diamonds were even more impressive.

‘The style is a bit dated. Which suggests the owner is likely quite old.’

That made sense. No man of her own age would have the courage—or the desperation—to pin his heart to her sleeve.

He was surely past his prime, perhaps a widower. He might have grown children, or perhaps he carried some secret, disabling vice.

‘But he does seem to be wealthy.’

To carelessly pin a brooch of this value to a dress in the dark meant the man had money to burn.

Then that was fine.

Harriet steeled herself. If the owner of this brooch hadn’t made a mistake, she would accept his proposal without hesitation.

She wouldn’t even blink if a man of fifty stepped forward to claim it.

Even a mercenary marriage, a transaction of wealth for youth, was more than she could reasonably hope for.

“It’s a lovely brooch. Who could the owner be? I did see a few gentlemen wearing ruby brooches today…”

Bella’s prattling brought Harriet back to reality. The crowd was already racking their brains, whispering about who might have been wearing such an ornament.

Harriet didn’t want Bella to see the desperate hope flickering behind her eyes.

“No, it really must be a mistake. I should keep it safe and return it. It looks like a very valuable item.”

“Hmm, if that’s the case, why not pin it to your chest just in case? If it really was an error, wouldn’t you want to give the owner a chance to notice it?”

“Huh?”

Bella’s logic was sound, but Harriet hesitated. If it was a mistake, how mortifying would it be for them both if she stood there, wearing a token meant for someone else?

As Harriet wavered, Caroline, one of Bella’s circle, let out a sharp, jeering laugh.

“It seems Harriet wants to hoard the brooch, and we’ve spoken without thinking.”

“N-no, that’s not it!”

Harriet decided to pin the brooch to her bodice as Bella suggested.

She no longer cared about the potential humiliation. Her reputation was already in tatters; it couldn’t possibly get any worse.

“Would anyone recognize it at this distance?”

“Of course. But I believe you are in for a romantic confession. Our Harriet is so kind and cute, after all!”

Bella hugged her tightly.

To any onlooker, it would appear to be an affectionate moment between cousins. Harriet gave a strained smile and gripped Bella’s arms, holding her back. She would have preferred to shove her away, but for now, the pretense remained.

“Bella, you are the one who is so kind. Your parents, too.”

“That’s true. If it were me…”

“Hey, what are you all saying? If we go on like this, what does that make Bella?”

Bella smiled, radiating a practiced, modest light before her friends, who had no room in their hearts for anyone but her.

“What am I? It is you all who have far too high an opinion of me.”

What a beautiful friendship this is.

Harriet Listerwell clenched her teeth. This familiar situation was exhausting, ridiculous, and utterly nauseating.

‘I don’t care if he’s an old man on the verge of death. I’d marry anyone just to escape this hell, so please, someone, just propose to me.’

Harriet prayed with all her heart.

She was desperate, but in truth, she had no great expectations. Since her twelfth year, God had not answered a single one of her prayers.

That was why, when a man who should have had absolutely no connection to her approached, she was so bewildered her mouth went rigid.

It couldn’t be helped.

“Miss Harriet Listerwell?”

“Yes? Yes! I, I am… Harriet Listerwell….”

The man, who asked for her name with an unreadable smile, said,

“I would like to have my property returned.”

He pointed at the brooch with his long, firm fingers. The man who laid claim to it was—

‘My God!’

He was Duke Cedric Kaylas, hero of the Kifren War and guest of honor at today’s banquet.

‘Why is he approaching me…?’

At the sudden surge of expectation, Harriet’s face flushed red.

However, Cedric merely stared at her, saying nothing. Harriet suddenly realized that his eyes were not smiling at all.

‘Something is wrong.’

She knew something had gone terribly awry. She couldn’t tell where or what had gone off-track—or rather, there were so many things wrong she couldn’t distinguish one from the other.

It was certain that Cedric hadn’t pinned the brooch on her. Before the lights went out, he had been speaking with the Empress, and hadn’t he just walked over from the direction where she stood?

‘And he isn’t in a position to be playing games with romance.’

That was the status of Cedric Kaylas.

He became a Duke at only twenty-five because his father, Rowan Kaylas, had died during the Kifren War, forcing him to inherit the title early.

As a staunch ally of the Imperial Family, he had an obligation to maintain the House of Kaylas, and his wife had to be someone chosen with extreme care.

‘Then who pinned this on me? And where did this brooch even come from?’

Was it a malicious prank?

Harriet’s lips went dry from an instinctive sense of danger. She couldn’t just stand there staring at him; she had to handle this.

“Th, this—I’ll return it.”

She intended to hand it back, but she was so flustered that her fingers slipped repeatedly against the clasp.

“What’s that? It doesn’t look like the Duke gave it to her, does it?”

“Of course not! Why would the Duke give a brooch to someone like that?”

“Could she have stolen it? Is she wearing it on purpose?”

“Who knows what’s going on inside her head? In any case, Harriet Listerwell is up to her old tricks again.”

The whispers reached Harriet’s ears. Her back felt damp with sweat.

‘Why won’t it come off!’

The Duke of Kaylas’s brooch—she swore she had never even imagined such a thing. Yet, she was caught in a nightmare because of an object she hadn’t even wanted.

She felt like ripping it off and throwing it away. Perhaps that desperation showed on her face.

“Wait. You’ll damage the brooch. Let me help you.”

Even though it was pinned to her chest, Cedric stepped in close, as if the brooch were his only objective. Harriet couldn’t even breathe.

Perhaps it was a mercy; he detached the brooch with ease. It was so effortless that Harriet’s previous struggle looked entirely intentional.

“Th, thank you.”

She didn’t even know what she was thanking him for. There was no reply.

Harriet, unable to bear the silence, lifted her head, only to swallow a gasp. Cedric had leaned in to remove the brooch, and his face was inches from hers.

His reddish-brown eyes, resembling rubies, were beautiful, but she was too afraid of the cold contempt within them to appreciate his features.

“With whom should I discuss this matter, Miss Harriet?”

“I, I don’t know what you mean….”

“Why my father’s keepsake was displayed on the chest of a lady I don’t even know, and how you intend to take responsibility for this insult.”

Every word that left Cedric’s lips seemed to drop the temperature of the air.

“It is difficult to forgive this as a simple prank, given the heavy meaning this brooch carries.”

Harriet stood with her mouth agape, forgetting all decorum. The words were in the language of the Empire, but she couldn’t make sense of them.

“Your Grace! There is a, a misunderstanding…!”

“Why do those who commit wrongdoing always love the word ‘misunderstanding’? Do you think that will make me turn a blind eye?”

His smile was perfectly smooth, but it sent chills down Harriet’s arms.

“No, it’s not! You’re mistaken! When the lights came back on, I just found it pinned to my dress!”

Harriet argued as hard as she could, but Cedric’s expression remained frozen.

Around them, the whispers grew louder.

“She must have pinned it on herself.”

“She wants attention, but to steal the Duke’s brooch…!”

“That’s just how she is.”

The clicking of tongues, the looks of disdain, the furrowed brows. She had seen such reactions many times, but today, she felt unusually suffocated.

“It’s not true! It’s not!”

As Harriet shouted, her uncle, Viscount John Listerwell, came rushing over.

“Your Grace!”

“Ah, the person in charge has arrived.”

Harriet looked at her uncle with a desperate expression. *Please help me! Save me! I don’t know anything!*

However, the words that came out of John’s mouth were far from her expectations.

“I apologize! It is my fault for failing to keep my niece in line.”

“It would seem so.”

Cedric’s voice was calm, but there wasn’t a person present who didn’t know he was furious.

It was natural. The victory party for the war where he lost his father was not a joyous occasion, and now his father’s keepsake had been stolen.

That was bad enough, but the social circle’s notorious “Scandal Maker,” Harriet Listerwell, was walking around flaunting it as if she had some secret claim to the Duke.

John dripped with sweat as he bowed, and Bella, appearing from nowhere, pleaded for leniency with a terrified expression.

“Your Grace, please take pity on Harriet. She must have stumbled upon the brooch, and she probably wore it because she wanted a little attention. She’s never received any before….”

The blood drained from Harriet’s face.

“Bella! You saw it too! I was just thinking that the person who pinned it on me had made a mistake…!”

Harriet tried to explain. She believed that Bella and her friends would recognize her innocence. But her attempt was blocked by John.

“Shut your mouth, Harriet! Watch your tone!”

John scolded her with a furious face. Today’s banquet was the stage for his son Aston’s debut, and he couldn’t afford a scandal.

Harriet tried to explain again, but tears welled up before she could speak. She knew how shameful it was to weep in such a place, but she couldn’t stop it.

“It’s really not true! I, I, sob, I would never, steal, the Duke’s, sob, belongings!”

Her voice was pathetic, yet no one pitied her.

“She’s living up to the nickname ‘Scandal Maker’.”

“She doesn’t look like much, but she’s always poking her nose at every man in sight.”

“Tsk, tsk. I feel bad for the Viscount. To think he’d suffer such a disgrace because of a niece he took in.”

Despite the crowded room, Harriet felt as if she were drowning in a profound, crushing loneliness.

She was used to the idea that the more she defended herself, the more ridiculous she looked. But because this was an Imperial banquet, the despair felt deeper than ever.

‘Making a fool out of someone—it’s so easy.’

She let out a dry laugh as her grief surpassed its limit.

She wanted to make one thing clear to Cedric. She knew he wouldn’t believe her, but she couldn’t just walk away stammering.

Swallowing her tears, Harriet turned to him and spoke clearly.

“I did not steal the Duke’s brooch. I never even wanted it in the first place.”

I had assumed he wouldn’t even look my way, but unexpectedly, he turned his head and locked eyes with me.

I gritted my teeth and lifted my chin, refusing to crumble under that piercing gaze. The moment lasted perhaps two or three seconds in reality, but it felt like an eternity.

Just as his expression began to soften, John spoke in a solemn voice.

“I offer my sincerest apologies. I will see to it that my niece is sent to a convent to reflect on her actions, and I will provide whatever compensation, including alimony, that you desire.”

My eyes widened.

“Un-Uncle! A convent?”

No one paid any heed to my bewilderment.

Cedric looked down at the bowing John and clicked his tongue softly.

“That will be unnecessary. Having heard your explanation, it seems there truly was no intention to insult me or my late father…”

His gaze swept over me once more, swift and cold.

“I may have overreacted.”

John’s shoulders dropped slightly in relief.

Cedric turned away, showing no further interest in the people of the House of Listerwell. “I simply hope we do not cross paths under such circumstances again.”

“Of course. I am grateful for your leniency.”

John bowed deeply once more, and Cedric strode away without a backward glance.

As the spectacle dissolved, the buzzing crowd dispersed, and the banquet continued as if nothing had happened. But my nightmare was far from over.

“Harriet! Go back home. And don’t you dare breathe a word to anyone, no matter what they ask!”

“Uncle, I am…!”

“Are you trying to argue over right and wrong here? How much more do you intend to disgrace me?”

I hunched my shoulders at the roar of the man who held my fate in his hands. My guardian, my only shelter, my closest kin. It would be foolish to further provoke a man of his temper.

“…I will leave now.”

I bowed my head and retreated. I had achieved my goal of leaving early, but I had never wished for it to end in this manner. A spring breeze, heavy with the scent of flowers, brushed against the nape of my neck, but I felt nothing.

* * *

“Go to St. Clarissa’s Convent for one year.”

“Pardon?”

I blinked in disbelief.

“It is for your own good. That should be enough time for this incident to be forgotten.”

“Un-Uncle!”

“You have to marry, don’t you, Harriet? In the current climate, you won’t even receive a single party invitation, let alone a proposal!”

John was treating a year of my life like a discarded scrap of paper. I shook my head vigorously.

“Uncle, I explained everything. I never stole Duke Cedric Kaylas’s brooch. I didn’t even pick it up. It was pinned to my dress, and I only wore it because Bella suggested it. There are plenty of witnesses!”

When I had first explained what happened, John had listened quietly, nodding. I thought the misunderstanding had been cleared. Why, then, was this decision so immovable?

I tried to appeal to him once more. John clicked his tongue and slammed his palm onto the desk.

“The truth doesn’t matter! If we provoke the House of Kaylas at a time like this, we are finished. Why on earth did it have to be an item belonging to the late Duke…!”

“I am telling you, I didn’t do it!”

“Harriet.”

His voice turned sickeningly gentle. I knew this tone—it never preceded anything good.

“Can you go to the Duke’s estate now and soothe Duke Cedric Kaylas’s mood? Can you stay in the capital and silence the rumors?”

“That is…”

“A year is a small price to pay. Once you are out of sight, people will lose interest. Once the rumors die down, marriage proposals might even come your way. It is entirely possible.”

His coaxing, whispered words weighed heavily on my shoulders. If I refused now, I would be branded a wicked child.

“Do as your uncle says, Harriet. I am not unaware of your grievance, and since we are partly to blame, I will see to it that you have a generous dowry. And not just a dowry! I shall have the most famous designer make you a dress and ensure you have jewelry that is not lacking.”

“Are you… serious?”

“Of course! Do you think I would forget what you did for Bella?”

John laughed heartily. The man who had been slamming the desk in a fury just moments ago was gone. I let my shoulders slump and nodded.

*I can’t refuse… If I’ve secured a promise for a dowry and jewelry, I suppose I’ve fought as well as I could.*

My hands were damp with sweat, but I tried to soothe myself.

“…I understand.”

“Good. We will hear from the convent soon, so don’t go anywhere. Just pack your bags. They say you must wear a nun’s habit there, so there is no need to bring much.”

I offered no protest. There was no need to add another layer of despair to the one that had already arrived.

* * *

“What did Harriet say?”

“What could she say? She has to follow my lead.”

John answered Bella while stabbing a thick chunk of meat with his fork. He glanced at her before taking a bite. “Still, you went too far, Bella. We could have been caught in the crossfire.”

“Did you think I knew it was an heirloom of the late Duke? But in any case, we achieved our goal. We’ve managed to get rid of Harriet.”

“Father, it worked out for the better. Given the item in question, everyone will find it natural that she is being sent to a convent.”

With Aston joining to take Bella’s side, John ceased his scolding. This had been their plan from the start.

“Father! Let’s take Harriet to the banquet this time.”

“Her? Why?”

“You said you wanted to get rid of her.”

“Yes! So why on earth would I take a girl like that to a banquet? It is extremely important.”

“I have a plan. You might be a little embarrassed, Father, but everyone will eventually sympathize with you, so you must bear with it.”

John hesitated at the suggestion of being embarrassed, but the plan to use the “Confession Brooch” trend as a pretext to exile Harriet sounded reasonable.

*It was about time I got rid of her anyway.*

Bella was twenty-one. She had begun building a reputation for beauty and kindness, and decent proposals were finally arriving. It was time to prepare for a formal match. And for that, Harriet—who had been Bella’s “cleanup crew”—needed to disappear.

“It would have been better if she had been on that boat with them back then,” John muttered, sighing.

Harriet was his niece, orphaned in a boating accident. Though he had played the role of the kind-hearted uncle, he had never felt a shred of affection for her. If not for the social disgrace, he would have sent her to an orphanage years ago.

“I agree. Then we wouldn’t have to deal with such headaches.”

Her mother, Miriam, chuckled. “Still, thanks to her, you’ve avoided awkward situations. Have some pity.”

“Mother, are you serious?”

“I’m saying you should be careful. You need to look for a serious suitor!”

“Don’t worry. I’ve made an acquaintance with Duke Cedric Kaylas. Who knows? I might become the Duchess.”

Not a hint of remorse could be felt from Bella, and the Viscount and Viscountess looked at their daughter only with affection. Bella was a treasure who would elevate their standing.

“Of course! There is no young lady as pretty as our Bella!”

“The Duke must have fallen for her! I should find out which parties he will be attending. We must ensure Bella is there.”

The couple smiled, imagining a future where Bella became Cedric’s lover. The “in-laws of a Duke”—what a sweet fantasy.

“By the way,” John asked, “how did you get your hands on that brooch? Are you not going to tell me until the end?”