TMRM 02

Chapter 2

The man who had been persistently watching her —
his sharp green eyes drew closer in a single stride.

“…Young Duke.”

Johannes Magnum.

Even Anel, who paid little attention to the social world, could never be ignorant of that name.
She flushed, ashamed that she had lost her composure in front of such a man.
But she quickly gathered herself.
Showing weakness before a man with eyes like that would be a mistake.

“There’s no need for honorifics,” he said.

“I must use them,” she replied.

Even if she was the daughter of a grand duke, her partner was the heir of the Duke of Magnum.
He was already a count by title and was said to be next in line to receive a dukedom.
Anel, who had no rank of her own, could not treat him informally.
It was proper to address him with respect — especially when they were meeting for the first time.

“You’re to be the future empress, are you not?”

The words were ordinary, yet they carried thorns.
Or was it her imagination?
She couldn’t be sure, since she didn’t dare look directly at his face.
Anel lowered her head even further.

“…Not yet,” she said quietly, but with firmness.

Johannes tilted his head slightly, as though surprised.
Anel deliberately avoided his gaze.

“I seem to have spoken carelessly,” he said.

“No, Young Duke. Thank you for your concern.”

Anel spoke as politely — and as conclusively — as possible.
She didn’t want to give him any reason to continue the conversation.
She knew it was rude,
and she would never have been so curt with any other nobleman.
But this was Johannes Magnum.

“Lady.”

“Yes?”

His name appeared in the newspapers nearly every morning.
And today again — it was in the headlines.
A young noblewoman’s suicide note had mentioned him.
Anel couldn’t help but pity the girl.

“Have I offended you?” he asked.

“…No.”

No, he hadn’t wronged her — only that poor young lady.
Anel silently recalled the contents of the letter.
The girl had begged to meet the Young Duke one last time before she died,
but he had refused to see her.
If only he had met her once — even just to say no to her face —
perhaps she could have let him go and lived on.

“Ah, so you’ve read this morning’s article,” Johannes said.

“…Is there anyone in the Empire who hasn’t read it?” Anel replied evenly.

The fact that he mentioned it so directly startled her, though she didn’t show it.
The letter hadn’t revealed the details of their relationship,
but it was widely believed that they had spent a night together.
Anel couldn’t bring herself to condemn him — but she couldn’t like him either.

“That’s surprising,” he murmured.

“What is?” she asked.

That she’d read the article?
Or that she pitied the girl in it?

“That you believe the article,” he said coolly.

Anel bit her lip.
There was a suicide note — how could anyone not believe it?
She wanted to argue, but stayed silent.
It would only risk being disrespectful.
Fortunately, Johannes seemed to understand and said nothing further.
The two continued their dance, moving only as the music required.
Anel wondered if she had been too harsh.
After all, he was to be Prince Samy’s right hand —
and she couldn’t afford to make him an enemy.

“Young Duke,” she began at last, intending to apologize—
but before she could finish, the orchestra changed its tune.

Johannes guided her hand — and passed her to the Crown Prince.

“!”

Just before she was completely released from his grasp,
he leaned in and whispered something low in her ear.

“Wh—what did you just—!”

Startled, Anel looked up, but Johannes had already turned away.

“Anel,” said Prince Samy as he took her hand, “how was your dance with Johann—”

He stopped mid-sentence.
“…Anel?”

“Y-Your Highness.”

“You’re sweating cold,” he said, concerned.
But seeing her pale and frozen, he didn’t press her.
He led her quietly out of the ballroom and onto the balcony.

“Are you all right, Anel?”

He pulled out his handkerchief and gently wiped her forehead.
“You’re trembling.”

The cool fabric against her skin, the soft spring breeze cutting through the air —
only then did Anel start to regain her composure.
When she looked up, she met his eyes — warm, earnest, green.

“Did the Young Duke do something to you?” Samy asked quietly.

“No,” she said quickly, shaking her head.
Her reaction was pure emotion — without proof.
She couldn’t drag Samy into it.

“You didn’t look well all evening.”

“I suppose I’m not used to such crowded places.”

Samy still looked unconvinced.
He held her hand more firmly, his gaze sincere.

“If anything troubles you, promise me you’ll tell me.”

“Of course.”

“Anel, I…”
He hesitated, then spoke with resolve.
“I want to be a husband unlike my father, His Majesty.
I’ll be faithful only to you — live only for you.”

“Your Highness…”

“So please, rely on me.
I know that doesn’t come easily for you,
but I want to be someone you can lean on.”

“You already are,” she said softly.

Anel didn’t pull her hand away.
She simply looked back into his gentle eyes —
eyes full of unwavering affection and trust.
It was those eyes that allowed her to endure everything.
That love and faith he gave her so completely.
But even so, there were things she could never tell him.

For instance—

“You seem far too good for him, Lady Morata.”

How could she possibly tell Samy that Johannes Magnum had said such a thing?

Morata Grand Duke’s Residence, Capital City

“You’re home early.”

Prince Samy had wanted to greet the Grand Duke in person before leaving,
but Anel firmly refused — she knew her father would make things awkward again.
The mansion was filled with servants,
but the only family in it was the Grand Duke himself.

“Yes, Father.”

Her mother, the Grand Duchess, had died giving birth to her.
And her father — he never remarried.
His strict, prideful nature left no room for illegitimate children.
Anel had grown up completely alone.

“Well done.
Even if you’re with your fiancé, staying out too late is never proper,”
he said approvingly.

The Grand Duke had devoted his entire life to her — obsessively so.
It was the devotion of an artist toward his masterpiece,
his life’s work.
He saw the existence of the crown prince — her peer in age —
as fate itself.
He believed offering his daughter to the imperial family
was the ultimate act of loyalty.
From birth, Anel was destined to become a flawless empress.

“Why didn’t the Crown Prince come in to greet me?” he asked.

“He said he had urgent matters to attend to.”

“Well, the prince is a busy man. Understandable.”

The Grand Duke lit a cigar and opened the evening paper.
As always, the headline bore the name Johannes Magnum.
Anel turned her gaze away from it, discomfort rising in her chest.
Her father, oblivious, muttered under his breath:

“The press makes a fuss again.”

“…”

“It’s tragic, yes — a young lady’s death.
But tell me, is that the Young Duke’s fault?
If he’s to blame, then what — should he marry every woman who pines for him?
There’d be hundreds of wives in the capital alone!”

He clicked his tongue and took a deep drag of smoke.
Since he hadn’t dismissed her,
Anel could only stand behind him, quietly breathing in the stinging haze.

“Cough.”

Even knowing her lungs were weak,
the Grand Duke often smoked in her presence —
keeping his prized possession, his trophy, right behind him.

“Come to think of it,” he said, “the Young Duke attended tonight’s ball, didn’t he?
You must have met him for the first time.”

“…Yes.”

It was strange that she hadn’t met him until now.
After all, they were the only heirs of the Empire’s two greatest houses.
Even if no formal engagement was ever discussed,
surely their families would have crossed paths.

“I made sure you wouldn’t meet him before you came of age,”
the Grand Duke said, tapping the newspaper’s headline with a finger.
“I didn’t want my daughter to become one of those foolish girls.”

Her eyes widened slightly —
so their meeting tonight had been by his design?

“From the time he was young, women never left Johannes Magnum alone.
I don’t think you’re that naïve, Anel,
but a woman’s love is never something worth wagering on.”

He gestured toward the chair across from him.
Anel quietly took a seat.

“So,” he asked, his tone low and deliberate,
“now that you’ve seen him — what did you think?”

It was a question heavy with meaning.