Pat 01 A Perfect Cage
Her fingertips froze the moment she saw the people clinging and pounding on the gates. Though she had experienced something similar just yesterday, it still felt utterly impossible to get used to.
And in the meantime, the crowd’s voices grew harsher.
“Come out already! Coward, hiding behind closed doors!”
“How shameless. How can she still show her face like that?”
Their jeering voices pierced her ears. For a moment, everything went quiet—inside her, not outside. Her lips parted but no words came out. She couldn’t run, even though her entire body screamed at her to do just that.
She tried to force out a word—any word—but suddenly, the chaos dulled into silence.
Only one person in the empire could quell an uproar like this with nothing but his presence.
The Duke of Teje.
“What is all this noise?”
“Y-Your Grace…”
As soon as he stepped out of the carriage, the crowd instinctively parted to make way. Decarno approached, unhurried, removing his black gloves one by one. He moved with the elegance of a predator across the plains. Those icy silver eyes were devoid of even the slightest hint of surprise, making the onlookers squirm under his gaze.
“Y-Your Grace, it’s not what it looks like. We simply had no other choice—”
“If it was so urgent, you could have come through the front gates and requested an audience.”
“…”
An unreasonable demand.
It was near-impossible to meet the Duke of Teje without powerful connections or decades of loyalty. But more than that, what stopped them was the courage—or lack thereof—to face him one-on-one. Even just standing in his presence left them feeling small and frail. What words could possibly be said under that pressure?
Decarno was well aware of this.
“If you have something to say, speak now. I’m listening.”
“…But Your Grace, our business is with Lady Ohara.”
“And why is it that you can’t say to me what you wish to say to her?”
“…”
“Either speak now while she is with me, or I’ll have my legal team calculate the extent of your claims and settle this in a more civilized manner.”
His tone was impassive, his gaze indifferent. It was a choice, but only in name. Left with no real alternative, the crowd slowly lowered their heads in defeat. Humiliating? Perhaps. But if the Duke was willing to take responsibility, it was not just a relief—it was their best-case scenario.
Even though the western gate of the mansion had been flung open wide, not a single person dared to step forward.
“And you—why are you out here again?”
“….”
Decarno stopped before Evangeline, who stood at the entrance. The eyes of dozens bore into them, but he seemed completely unaffected. As if to show the world, his hand came to rest on her shoulder.
She flinched at his touch, her unfocused eyes snapping back into awareness.
“Evangeline.”
“…I’m sorry. I’ll go in now.”
Her voice, small and broken, scattered like wind. As she turned away, his hand slid from her shoulder to her waist, guiding her gently—but firmly—toward the annex. Even though she was surrounded by creditors, he escorted her just like he had at the ballroom, graceful and unbothered.
His hand only left her once they arrived at the entrance. But the weight of it lingered.
She looked up at him, wanting to meet his eyes, but she couldn’t.
Just as she had never gone through something like this before… surely, neither had he.
Should she apologize? For tarnishing his name with such a scandal?
Her dry lips stuck together, refusing to part.
Decarno, who had been standing quietly as if waiting for her to speak, finally turned when Michael informed him of a visitor.
Only once his footsteps faded did she manage to raise her head.
Even his back—just the sight of it—made her chest ache.
Maybe it would be better if he just threw me out already.
She had nowhere to go, but in this moment, that might have been preferable.
Then, suddenly, a different thought occurred to her.
Why hasn’t he thrown me out yet?
“….”
The realization struck her as strange. Their marriage was always a transaction—he had wealth and power, she had social standing and influence. But the deal had fallen apart, hadn’t it? And if anyone could dissolve an engagement with a snap of his fingers, it was the Duke of Teje.
And yet… he hadn’t.
Her eyes narrowed.
“…No. No way.”
She shook her head, trying to banish the absurd thought that had crept in. With no parents and nowhere to belong, her mind must have been inventing fantasies just to cope. And yet, instead of returning inside, her feet turned and followed the path Decarno had taken.
“What on earth is going on out there?”
By now, the entire city knew that the Duke’s fiancée had been ruined. Even those gathered in the parlor, waiting to meet with him, were here because of the news.
“Can you believe it? Now even debt collectors are storming the Duke of Teje’s residence!”
“Goodness! I looked outside and almost had a heart attack!”
“So you just stood there and let it happen?”
“Your Grace!”
The reprimanding tone came from Count Lian, who flushed under the Duke’s cold, piercing gaze. As the late Duke’s cousin, Lian was considered one of the closest relatives to Decarno—and he took pride in that fact.
“This isn’t about me! This is about how something like this could happen at the Teje estate!”
“And yet you seem fine with the Duke’s future wife being harassed by debt collectors.”
“Future wife?! Don’t tell me you still intend to marry that woman?!”
That woman? Really?
Even without hearing the full sentence, the venom in the tone was clear. But Decarno, eyes still on the documents before him, showed no reaction.
“Of course I do.”
“…What?”
A stunned silence swept through the room. Many had rushed here as soon as they read the headlines, assuming the Duke would break off the engagement and they could suggest a suitable replacement. After all, wasn’t he a man known for clean, decisive cuts?
“…This is madness. The title of Duchess of Teje isn’t just any noble’s seat. She should represent the Empire—someone worthy of standing beside you. And you want to give it to a ruined count’s daughter?”
“He’s right!”
Others began to chime in.
“If we’re being honest, the Ohara family was never on our level to begin with! The engagement was a stretch from the start!”
“Then why didn’t you oppose it back then?”
“…Your Grace!”
“I don’t understand the sudden concern. You were all quite happy to accept the Ohara family’s goods and connections back when it suited you.”
He finally closed the documents and looked up. His silver-gray eyes swept across the room, cold and unreadable.
“How strange. The same people who benefited from Ohara’s resources are now complaining about appearances?”
“T-that’s not fair…”
“Perhaps you should check the tags on your clothes and jewelry. You might be surprised where they came from.”
His gaze landed on Count Lian’s sapphire tie pin, which was studded with diamonds. Easily over 20 carats.
The other nobles fidgeted, clearing their throats, their faces growing red.
“Count Ohara was the one who pushed his daughter onto you, begging you to look after her.”
“Then he should’ve honored the deal. You took the goods—you pay the price.”
“Your Grace! Why are you—”
Count Lian squinted at him, expression twisted.
This had gone beyond logic. Something was wrong here. Suddenly, a thought crossed his mind, and his voice lowered to a dangerous whisper.
“…Don’t tell me you’re in love with that woman.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“It’s the only explanation I can think of. Why else would you insist on a marriage that clearly hurts your house’s reputation? Maybe this is about your heart after all.”
The moment hung in silence. The question that everyone wanted to ask had now been spoken aloud. Every eye turned to Decarno.
That composed, fearsome man.
What would he say?
“…Of course not.”
“…Ah.”
The room released a breath it didn’t realize it was holding.
They were so focused on his answer… they didn’t hear the footsteps stop just outside the door.
“Then why be so stubborn?”
“Because it’s convenient.”
“…What?”
“Evangeline Ohara is a prepared Duchess. Looking for someone new would be a hassle. And there’s no guarantee anyone else could do the job better.”
A simple answer.
But outside the door, a woman stood frozen—her hand just shy of the doorknob.
