Chapter 8

Eleanor sat in front of the mirror in a daze. She’d forced herself to sit in front of her vanity hours ago, but she still had yet to start her usual beauty routine. It was difficult to even move a finger, and her head was so crowded with anxious thoughts it felt as if it might burst.

What have I done... and with the main character, to boot! Three days had passed, but she still could not stop berating herself. There was hardly anything else she could blame. She hadn’t drunk a single drop of alcohol; she hadn’t taken any sort of strange aphrodisiac. Why had she utterly lost her head like that?

To embrace a man like that, for the first time, unable to control her basest urges... And especially with that man, the one who was meant to be for someone else. It would have been better if I’d been utterly wasted.

She’d never meet Ryan again, to be sure, so she wished she didn’t have to remember it quite so well. Unfortunately, the details remained extremely vivid... Ryan’s shyly smiling face lingered in her mind, and the sensation of his silky sheets sliding against her legs, not to mention the feathery touch of his fingers over her skin.

When she closed her eyes, she could perfectly replay each way they’d caressed each other, and the frenzy of emotions that had swirled in her. She tried to force herself to forget it all, but it was no use. His touch had made an ingrained impression on her body—it wouldn’t leave.

This will last at least a week, or maybe longer... Despite his refined, almost ascetic demeanor, Ryan had been surprisingly carnal, his lustful movements feverishly desirous. His rough, passionate treatment of her had left telltale signs—her neck, her shoulders, her breasts, and even the insides of her thighs bore small, purplish marks. With those all over, how could she possibly forget what had happened, even for a moment?

Her entire body felt taut and extremely sensitive, and every time her thoughts drifted to their activities that evening, she started to feel herself growing hot, and even some small whimpers would escape her mouth. It was so bad that she couldn’t even leave her room, and had to make sure she only took small, controlled movements that avoided any sort of contact or stimulation.

What did that man do to my body? That strange, unbearably handsome man... She’d never once heard of a woman experiencing such changes to her body after a night with a man. How had it resulted in this? It seemed an unbelievable situation. Eleanor sighed. Well, thank goodness I didn’t bump into anyone on my way out.

That was her only consolation. She’d been extremely anxious as she’d stolen her way out of his estate in the early hours of dawn. She felt nervous sweat gather on her neck at the thought of possibly anyone having witnessed her leaving his rooms.

She was only of the minor nobility, and she’d already been married once. He was a member of the highest echelon of the aristocracy, and the most eligible bachelor on the continent. The two of them could never be. Eleanor knew that someone like her was not even fit to be in his presence... much less have her name linked romantically with his. Luckily, there’s zero chance of any rumors about us...

As long as she kept her mouth shut, she knew Ryan would remain as quiet as the grave—the famously reserved future duke would never speak about their chance encounter, especially with a woman with such a lowly title. He had simply succumbed to a momentary hunger and curiosity. Soon, she was sure that he would grow to regret their little... interaction.

If he somehow contacts me, it’ll be to warn me to keep my mouth shut. She didn’t want word to spread, either, but the thought of the count threatening her to keep quiet made her feel a little bitter. I spent my first night with a man I’ll never see again.

She’d never cared about such a thing as her first night, but she couldn’t ignore that it left a bad taste in her mouth. Still... I don’t regret it.

It was the truth. It had hurt at first, to be certain, and felt overall awkward and unfamiliar... But the pleasure had grown great as they’d continued their sexual play. If she were to never be with another man again, her first and only experience would be with Ryan Floyd Calabria and that was, honestly, as good as it could get. There were countless women who would have done anything to spend a single night in his arms.

She decided to count it as a treasured memory. Well, it probably wouldn’t be such a treasured memory for him, but she wouldn’t worry about that. That affectionate touch... Those soft lips... And that low, dulcet voice that she kept hearing in her head...

Eleanor. He’d definitely called her by her name. How had he known? She was curious, but she tried her best to tamp down her curiosity. What did it matter if she knew or not? Regardless, she would never learn the answer. That night will remain completely in the past.

Tonight was the moment Ryan was fated to spend the night with the princess, and in the morning he would immediately propose to her upon waking.

“I must shove all of this out of my mind,” Eleanor muttered, trying to gather herself together.

Determined, she sat straight in front of the mirror and stared again at her reflection. The first day of the princess’s birthday festival had officially commenced, and the entire capital city was awash with joyful celebration.

The palace would be hosting a spectacular ball in her honor, but of course, minor nobility such as herself were not invited. Therefore, she, and countless others, would instead be raising a glass for the princess at the numerous smaller gatherings that would take place all over the city.

It was a show of loyalty to the imperial family, but also the perfect opportunity to further her presence in the city and mark herself as a noblewoman of some esteem. As there were several parties held at the same time, there was an unofficial but fierce competition among hosts to invite popular members of the nobility, and Eleanor was most assuredly one of the most sought-after guests.

Many of the young ladies thronged around her, after all, and where the ladies attended, gentlemen would follow. Some of the hosts had even sent her several pricey gifts, begging her to attend their gatherings during any one of the nights of the birthday festival.

Eleanor knew that she could fully take advantage of this opportunity to increase her standing as well as promote her books. Therefore, although she wasn’t at all in the mood to attend a raucous gathering, she knew she had to force herself to make an appearance. I’ve worked so hard to get where I am. I can’t be deterred by something like this.

Trying to gather her strength, she looked at her cluttered desk. Alongside the dozens of invitations, there were several urgent bills and other requests flooding in, as well as countless letters from her detested in-laws back in Mariche.

If she couldn’t earn a consistent profit staying in the capital, then her mother-in-law would hound her night and day to return to their estate. The quickest way back to the normal state of things would be to throw herself back into her work.

Eleanor picked up a brush and began determinedly applying her cosmetics.

* * *

Eleanor stepped into the grand entrance hall of Marchioness Novastein’s estate, appreciating the demure, somewhat hushed atmosphere. Marchioness Novastein was elderly and her party would be avoided by most of the youth, but Eleanor was in the mood for a more sedate gathering.

As soon as she appeared, several guests rushed to her side and exchanged greetings.

“Oh, Baroness! You look so beautiful today. Is this a new fashion you’re wearing?”

Eleanor felt a twinge of guilt at the eager woman’s question. She was wearing a different style of gown than the one she’d popularized recently.

Instead of the famous “Eleanor cut”, she was wearing a lacy blouse that buttoned up high to her neck, pinned in place by a glittering brooch. Her billowing skirts brushed the floor, and she wore long gloves that covered every inch of her arms. Of course, she’d worn this getup not to be fashionable but to hide all the marks Ryan had left on her. Regardless, Eleanor’s slim physique and chic styling set her apart from the crowd. The ladies around her clamored with praise, cooing that she looked simply divine and that she was bound to start another trend.

“Now, now, ladies, let’s not monopolize the baroness’s time. The dance is starting, so let us go to the center...”

Gentlemen had started approaching all the ladies for a dance, and classical music started to flow through the hall. Eleanor received countless invites, but she was not in the mood and rejected all of them.

“I apologize,” she said, to the numerous gentlemen that sought her hand. “I am scheduled to give a recitation tonight.”

She preferred conversing instead of drawing attention through dancing, and spent the next while engaged in numerous conversations and exchanges of gossip. It was difficult for her to interact with them at first and her head ached, but she eventually relaxed as she fell into a familiar pattern.

“These things happen—it’s part of life, I suppose. Thanks to you, Baroness, I’m now headed down the aisle for my third marriage, hehe!”

Eleanor laughed at the antics of Lady Cross, one of her most ardent fans. Perhaps it was because she was drinking more than usual, but she was now in a much better mood and was even beginning to enjoy the party instead of tolerating it.

Perhaps I might even dance next time someone asks... Eleanor had just turned to smile at a nearby gentleman when suddenly the room grew silent.

What’s going on? It was common for lulls to occur during gatherings of this size, but it was rather uncommon for such a silence to stretch on for so long. She was sure that something quite out of the ordinary was occurring, and she glanced around until she saw that every person was craning their neck toward the entrance.

“Has someone of note entered the room?” she heard someone ask.

“I think so...”

Even the ladies seated around her couldn’t contain their curiosity, but there were too many people gathered in front of them to see clearly.

“Tch! I shall look for us,” said one curious young lady, and she clambered on top of a chair to look over everyone’s heads.

The person of interest finally entered her sight, and her eyes widened and she let out a soft scream.

“Oh, dear lord!”

“Why? What is it?” asked Eleanor in alarm.

The lady was so overcome that she could scarcely get back down off the chair. Her eyes were feverish and her mouth gaped open, hardly able to speak as she hopped up and down with excitement. Seeing her reaction, the other ladies hurriedly stepped up onto their own chairs, and all of them shrieked in a similar fashion.

Eleanor finally got up, mystified, but at that point, there was no need for her to get up on a chair. The crowd in front of her was thinning, as if they were drawing apart, and Eleanor was finally able to see straight through the crowd to the entrance of the ballroom.

She stiffened instantly at the sight of an imposing figure, so tall that he stood a head above all the others. He had shining platinum-blond hair and was clad in the scarlet red that signified him as one of the imperial knights.

Why...

Why was he here?

Ryan Floyd Calabria, who should have been at the palace at this exact moment, was here instead.