Chapter 9
At the end of the corridor, Noxia saw another door. A chill seeped through the crack.
She opened it and stepped outside. The cold breeze grew stronger. Even though it was spring, the night was still sharp and chilly.
Since she had handed her coat to a servant earlier, Noxia felt the wind bite straight through her dress. She crossed her arms and shivered.
‘Ugh, it’s freezing. Maybe I should just go back inside…’
But then she noticed a quiet garden. A small white wooden gazebo stood among vines of roses, surrounded by shadowy lawns.
Drawn by its beauty, she walked toward it. Without lanterns, the garden was dim, carrying a still and dreamlike atmosphere.
Noxia tiptoed carefully, even though no one else seemed to be around.
Then she stopped. Someone was there. A faint figure sat on a bench. Her heart jumped in alarm.
‘Who… is that?’
The outline was clearly male, slim but tall, the frame of someone caught between boyhood and manhood.
He sat with his back to her, gazing upward. His shoulders trembled slightly.
‘…Is he crying?’
She listened closely. His breathing was shaky and wet with tears—not calm or steady.
Noxia hesitated. Should she quietly leave, or should she approach and comfort him? Before she could decide, the boy noticed her presence. He spun around quickly—
—and Noxia froze.
It was the Second Prince—the very same one whose eyes had met hers in the ballroom earlier.
‘The prince? Crying here, alone?’
Panic shot through her. Would she be punished for seeing something she shouldn’t? Should she kneel and beg forgiveness? Or ask why he was weeping?
But the prince, Elenon Hermeon, looked just as shocked. His face turned pale—he had been caught crying by a stranger.
‘Damn it.’
He muttered the curse under his breath, rubbing hastily at his damp cheeks before leaping to his feet.
“What are you doing here? You look like one of the ball’s guests, but no one is allowed into this place without royal permission.”
His words were sharp and defensive, the instinct of someone caught in weakness.
“I’m sorry, Your Highness. I lost my way while looking for the restroom. Please forgive my rudeness.”
Noxia bowed her head quickly, offering the excuse. Normally she might have been offended by his tone, but right now she was too flustered. And, against her will, she felt sympathy.
He looked so vulnerable—crying alone in the shadows. Not like a powerful prince, but like someone weak and human.
Better to be humble here, she thought. So she apologized softly.
Her obedience seemed to embarrass him further.
“…The guest facilities are not in this direction. I’ll show you the way.”
His voice was still curt, but less harsh than before.
“Thank you, Your Highness.”
Noxia answered politely. She didn’t really need a restroom, but she couldn’t exactly admit that.
“This way. Follow me.”
He wiped his eyes one last time, turned, and walked ahead. Noxia followed nervously, feeling like she’d stepped into a trap.
‘I feel sick… how did I end up in this situation?’
She had only come to the ball as Karnen’s guest, and now here she was—alone with a prince she had caught crying.
She told herself firmly: next time, no matter what Karnen says, she would never come to such a grand event again.
‘I don’t belong here. I should’ve just gone to a tea party instead of the royal ball…’
A country orphan like her had no business in this glittering world.
The Second Prince led her back into the palace silently. Noxia followed, half expecting him to hand her over for questioning.
Her imagination conjured up scenes from old novels—gloomy dungeons, torture chambers…
But then he stopped at a polished door.
“There. The restroom is through there.”
“Thank you, Your Highness.”
Noxia bowed again. He gave a stiff nod.
“Then enjoy the rest of the ball. Have a peaceful evening.”
With that, he strode away, leaving her behind.
Noxia sighed softly.
‘Is he really a prince? Why so prickly?’
She had never heard bad things about the royal family before. On the contrary, they were admired—wise, kind, and popular.
The Crown Princess was known as a brilliant politician, the First Prince as a patron of artists and a skilled painter himself.
The Second Prince’s reputation was smaller, but respectable—he had graduated the academy’s foundation course early and was now in university. People said he was polite, modest, and handsome.
Yet the boy she met tonight had been curt, even rude. Then again, she had caught him in tears. Anyone would react defensively.
At least he hadn’t threatened her. That counted for something.
‘What would I gain by telling anyone what I saw? Nothing—except trouble. Of course I’ll keep it to myself.’
Deciding to forget the strange encounter, Noxia freshened herself in the lavish restroom—large and ornate like a hotel suite—before returning to the ballroom.
She looked around for Karnen, eager to find her friend and calm down.
But what caught her attention wasn’t Karnen.
It was him.
“You’ll see him again soon,” Karnen’s voice echoed in her memory.
Her heart pounded wildly. Her lips went dry.
“You’ll inevitably cross paths with Lord Ranon.”
There he was—Jade Ranon.
He stood in the very center of the ballroom, like a timeless work of art, turning slowly until his deep blue eyes met hers.
In that moment, everyone else in the hall faded away. It felt as if only the two of them existed.
Noxia’s breath caught. Her chest tightened, heat surged through her, yet her face was cold as ice.
Across the hall, Karnen Holby saw everything—her friend frozen, and Jade Ranon’s piercing gaze fixed on her.
Expressionless, Karnen clenched her fists.
