“Before criticizing others, do you have nothing to think about your own foolishness and insincerity? You really have no sense of proportion. It’s disgusting. Leave immediately.”
Lena Creimoran was convinced that no matter how many decades passed, she would never forget this day.
Unfitting clothes, inappropriate makeup, shoes with high heels she forced herself to wear.
One winter day when she was sixteen, trying to match her fiancé Damian’s preferences.
At a party at the Orlock Viscount’s residence, Lena, speechless in the face of an unjustified broken engagement, was suddenly confronted by the notorious cold-hearted Duke, Prince Klaus Adelbard of the country of Charlotte, who appeared with a dashing stride and coldly glared at Damian.
Lena, bewildered, lowered her face in confusion, then looked up dazedly at Klaus’s tall back and stared.
It all started some time earlier.
Lena, who had come with Damian to the Orlock Viscount’s party, was suddenly introduced to Courtney, the daughter of Viscount Orlock, by Damian.
When Damian, looking intimately at Courtney and putting his arm around her shoulder, was slowly gazing over Lena’s entire body and smirking faintly, she froze.
“I’m sorry, Lena, but could you please break off our engagement? A girl with such poor taste as you would be a disgrace to Count Carpent’s family,” Damian said coldly.
“…Huh?” Lena couldn’t believe her ears.
She had been engaged to Damian since she was fourteen. The proposal had come from Damian’s father, Count Carpent.
When Lena was twelve, her mother died, and her father, wishing her happiness without hardship, accepted Count Carpent’s proposal to betroth Lena and Damian.
Two years had passed since then. Lena thought she had been getting along well with Damian. She had dressed as Damian had said, wore makeup as he instructed, and tried not to oppose him as much as possible.
Yet, she was now being told that their engagement was being broken off.
(And this dress, this makeup—I’ve been trying to match his wishes…)
She was told to wear flashy makeup because her face was plain, so she applied dark colors around her eyes and lips to make herself look more striking.
She was told to wear bright-colored dresses, so she wore red and yellow, cheerful hues.
She endured the pain of high heels because she was told that her height was not good and her figure appeared awkward.
Now, Courtney’s father, Viscount Orlock, approached Lena with a pitying look and said:
“Let’s contact Count Creimoran ourselves. Sorry, but that’s how it is… We need a father for the grandchild we’re expecting, after all.”
With that remark and Courtney affectionately patting her belly, Lena understood immediately.
(You’re kidding… she’s pregnant by Damian…?)
Despite being engaged to Lena, Damian apparently had an affair with Courtney and even got her pregnant.
Living according to the church’s teachings that chastity must be maintained until marriage, Lena found this impossible to believe. But with Viscount Orlock present, it must be true.
In response to Lena’s shock, Damian didn’t apologize but said matter-of-factly:
“Courtney is a very charming woman unlike you. Maybe you should learn from her and improve yourself a bit. Then someone will surely want to take you.”
Even though Lena was the one who committed infidelity, why was she the one being despised?
Lena instinctively looked down at her dress and pressed her lips tightly.
She knew her dress didn’t suit her, her makeup was off, and the heels didn’t match her. She had been pushing herself, trying to do her best for Damian—so why did he have to say such things to her?
Suddenly, the guests at the party had gathered around, their gazes stabbing her like arrows.
Embarrassed, humiliated, unable to retort—just as Lena lowered her face and clenched her fists, someone approaching with heavy footsteps was heard.
It could be Damian, the Viscount, or everyone present—someone gasped.
“Is this some sort of farce? If you’re arguing, then this is quite the act,” came a cold, icy voice.
Lena, still looking down, saw a flash of long silver hair. She saw a man in a fine jacket, trousers, and polished black shoes.
She wondered who he was but lacked the courage to lift her face.
“Your Highness… I apologize for the disgrace…” the Viscount Orlock’s voice trembled.
(Your Highness…?)
There were currently four people called “Your Highness” in Charlotte. King Ernesto had four princes, but the youngest prince was only four years old, so it must be one of the three older princes.
No way… that Your Highness was here…
Lena was stunned. What an unexpected scene. What if the prince reprimanded her father, Count Creimoran? She turned pale but then gasped at the prince’s next words.
“Yes, indeed. This is truly disgraceful. I don’t know which family you belong to, but before criticizing others, do you have nothing to think about your own foolishness and insincerity? It’s obvious how petty you are. It’s disgusting. Leave at once.”
“Huh—”
“Didn’t hear me? You—the one with a fiancé, yet impregnated another woman—you. Anyway, get out of my sight. Or would you prefer to be forcibly removed?”
Lena frozed, lifting her face in shock.
Suddenly, she caught sight of a figure approaching from behind, causing her to startle. Yes, she thought—how could she not have noticed? Only two princes have silver hair: the second prince, Klaus Aldebard, who is 22 years old, and the fourth prince, Richard, who is only four.
(Cold-hearted Duke…)
Klaus’s nickname was known to Lena as well.
The cold, merciless, unsmiling second prince. The “Cold-hearted Duke.”
Unable to say anything, Lena looked up at Klaus’s back. At that moment, she saw Damian stumble and rush out of the venue.
As Damian disappeared, Klaus shifted his gaze to the pale Viscount Orlock and his daughter Courtney.
“I will inform His Majesty of today’s matter. I feel quite ill, so I will take my leave. Let’s go,” he said.
Klaus took Lena’s hand from behind and started walking briskly.
They exited the Orlock residence and were led to a carriage bearing the royal crest.
“Send her home. I will walk back,” Klaus said.
“Um—” Lena tried to protest as she was about to be pushed into the carriage, but Klaus looked back over his shoulder quietly.
“Next time, find a better fiancé,” he said.
With that, Klaus’s silver hair fluttered lightly in the wind as he walked away.
Lena, clutching the window of the moving carriage, watched until Klaus was completely out of sight, committing his figure to memory.
