Chapter 9
His wife… is the Marchioness of Lamian?
Then could it be… that this man standing before me is—
He took a single step forward. He wasn’t even threatening me, and yet I instinctively stepped back.
“There’s no time for games, Your Highness. You should hurry and get ready. Don’t you need to dance with me soon?”
His voice, tinged with amusement, suddenly overlapped with a voice I had heard long ago.
“Would you care to dance with me?”
A shiver ran down my spine. I couldn’t stay composed anymore—couldn’t pretend to be unbothered. The calm I’d worked so hard to maintain came crashing down all at once.
“…Marquis.”
My voice quivered like the surface of water struck by a stone.
The other Marquis of Lamian smiled at me.
I had seen that smile before.
That smooth, sly grin that made the other person seem rude. A smile that pretended to be kind but lifted me up only to belittle others.
Once upon a time, Auguste de Lamian had smiled just like that… while protecting me.
“Oh, are you still feeling unwell? Then allow me to escort you to your room.”
The Marquis of Lamian suddenly extended a hand toward me. His scar-covered palm twitched right in front of my face. I felt like I couldn’t breathe.
Every moment the former Marquis had ever reached out his hand to me seemed to flicker at the fingertips of this man—his blood heir.
When we first met. When he asked me for the first dance. When he helped me up as I cried from a fall. When he kissed the back of my hand, beaming on the day I became queen. And… when he brought me poisoned porridge with a smile.
Every gesture, every glance, every word Auguste had once offered me crept toward me now, with this man’s outstretched hand.
“There’s no time. Please, go and prepare—”
Smack!
“Don’t touch me!”
The Marquis’s head jerked to the side. I had slapped him. Only after my palm struck his cheek with all my strength did I realize what I’d done.
The smile vanished from his face.
“Your Highness!”
What came out of my mouth then was almost a scream.
“Get away!”
While the stunned Marquis hesitated, I turned and ran as if possessed. The pounding of his footsteps echoed behind me as I raced through the corridors in a blind panic.
A chill clutched my shoulders. Even the air that entered my lungs felt revolting. I didn’t want to be in the same space as that man for even one second longer.
Behind me, his angry voice called out again and again.
“Your Highness!”
Enough! I said enough!
Auguste, you’re dead. It’s been 150 years. So why is even your descendant so determined to torment me?
My breath caught in my throat. I hadn’t run far, yet my legs already throbbed with pain.
Gritting my teeth through the ache in my chest, I kept running until—
I froze as I turned the corner.
A dead end. A wide-open balcony met me.
“Your Highness! Where did you go?”
The Marquis’s furious voice was drawing closer. Without thinking, I rushed forward and grabbed the balcony railing.
A sharp wind brushed my cheek.
I had to escape. Just one step. Even one more step away from him, no matter what it took.
Far below, the distant ground stretched out.
I should jump. If I jumped from here, he couldn’t catch me.
Without realizing it, I placed one foot on the railing.
“Hey!”
Suddenly, a young man’s voice pierced my ears.
Startled, I backed away from the railing—just as an unfamiliar hand shot out from the right.
I gasped sharply in surprise.
“This way.”
Turning toward the voice, I spotted a narrow space behind the curtain to the right of the balcony—just wide enough for a person to fit.
I stared blankly at the hand waving in front of me. Pale and thin—clearly a young man’s hand. It definitely didn’t belong to the Marquis.
“Hurry!”
The voice called out urgently.
I had no choice. Ahead was a dead end. Behind me, a terrifying monster.
Like someone drowning clinging to anything in reach, I grabbed the stranger’s hand without hesitation.
In the next instant, my body spun and was pulled into the narrow space.
“Ahhh!”
I screamed—only to have a dry hand clamp over my mouth.
“Shh.”
When I came to my senses, I was being held in someone’s arms, enveloped in darkness.
I could feel the curtain brushing my left hand. I glanced around out of the corner of my eye, but I couldn’t see anything. It felt as if the darkness itself—not a person—was holding me.
Outside, footsteps thundered past, and the Marquis’s voice rang out as he searched for me.
I held my breath and let my body go limp.
If the one holding me was an ally, there was no reason to resist. If they were a skilled assassin, resisting would be useless anyway.
The best thing to do was stay still until the opportunity came.
How long had passed? Finally, the Marquis’s angry shouting ceased. The sound of stomping footsteps faded into the distance.
The arms around me gently released their grip.
“He’s gone.”
The curtain swept aside, and light flooded into the narrow space we had hidden in.
Letting out a breath of relief, I stepped out. The hand that had gripped mine fell away completely. Only then did I calm down enough to look at my savior.
“Are you all right?”
“Thank y—”
I froze mid-sentence as I recognized the face.
“You’re…!”
The man smiled gently at me.
Jet-black hair. Eyes as blue as the sea. Tall and lean with long limbs. And that gaze—shining with the clarity of someone who seemed to know everything.
It was him.
The man who lived in the mansion within the Black Forest—the one who had brought me into this life.
“Do you remember me?”
I felt like I was about to cry as I answered.
“Of course I do.”
Warm relief wrapped around me.
My dignity as a princess, my fear of the Marquis—none of that mattered anymore. It was like throwing off a suffocating cloak. My heart felt light again.
Like a girl reunited with a dear friend, I bombarded him with questions.
“How did you get here? How did you know about that gap? Were you invited to the ball too?”
He burst out laughing. The sound of it melted away the last remnants of tension inside me.
“One question at a time, please.”
“Fine.”
I exhaled and asked the one thing I’d been most curious about.
“You have a name now, right?”
A mischievous smile tugged at his lips. He stepped back and, with a dramatic bow, introduced himself.
“A formal greeting for Your Highness. My name is Clovis de Hautbien, Baron of Hautbien…”
He glanced at me briefly before finishing cautiously.
“…and also the son of the Marquis of Lamian.”
His words pierced my chest again. My throat instinctively tightened.
I took a steadying breath, forcing my emotions into place.
Stay calm. Don’t let this shake you.
I remembered how terrified I’d been just moments ago—ready to leap from a balcony. I couldn’t let myself get swept away again and do something so foolish.
“You’re… his son?”
Clovis spoke of his status as if it were someone else’s story.
“Yes. I’m not a legitimate heir—just a bastard. But I was granted the barony formally, so everyone probably knows I’m his child.”
I barely held back a sigh.
“Why…?”
Of all the noble families out there, why his descendant?
“Tell me more.”
After a brief pause, he began explaining slowly.
“My father is the current Marquis of Lamian. My mother was a commoner. I heard she had me after spending just one night with him.”
I listened as calmly as I could.
“I lived confined in the marquisate until I came of age. Last year, he formally acknowledged me and granted me the Barony of Hautbien.”
“Then how did you come to the palace?”
“The Marquis and his household were allowed to reside here for a while. I came along as an attendant.”
His explanation passed through my mind but didn’t quite settle. It was like being doused in ice water from head to toe.
“The Marquis… lives in the palace?”
“Yes. Didn’t you know?”
It was horrifying. Just meeting him had been terrifying—and now he lived in the same house as me?
I raised my voice without meaning to.
“Why? Isn’t his own estate more comfortable? Why leave it behind and live here? And why would His Majesty even let him in?”
“Please calm down. He’s not the only one living here.”
Clovis waved his hand as if trying to soothe me.
“Maybe you didn’t know—back in your time, that kind of custom didn’t exist. But the current king has offered several high-ranking nobles rooms in the palace as a privilege.”
I’d never heard of such a system. When I was queen, I’d never even considered such a thing—and we hadn’t had enough rooms to house nobles anyway.
“Of course, it’s far less comfortable than a spacious estate. But living in the palace is a tremendous honor and a stepping stone to success. Nobles are desperate to live here. The king uses it as a way to control them.”
It actually sounded like a clever political move. Given the scale of this palace that I’d seen over the past few days, there was surely enough space to accommodate a few families.
I opened my mouth to ask more, but just then, a distant clock chimed eight times.
“Oh no, we’re out of time. The banquet must’ve started already.”
I wanted to ask more questions, but I held back and nodded. I’d already spent too long. If I wanted to attend the banquet, I had to hurry.
“You’ll come later, right?”
“Of course.”
Clovis gave a lopsided grin and added,
“If you still remember me.”
I burst out laughing. As if I could ever forget him. The moment I was free to wander the ballroom, he’d be the first person I searched for.
“See you soon!”
I gave him a quick wave and ran toward my room. Unlike before, every step I took was full of excitement.
At the end of the corridor, faint, cheerful laughter echoed behind me.
