Chapter 2
It was three days ago, in the late afternoon, when Ayla Everett realized that her fiancé, Lord Rodrigo Esteban, was an utterly disgraceful man.
“Oh, poor Ayla. What are we going to do with you?”
“You are here, Sister.”
At the sudden entrance of her sister Shuelle, who burst into the room without knocking, Ayla sighed quietly and closed the book she had been reading.
“I’m talking about your fiancé, Lord Rodrigo.”
Shuelle floated over gracefully and sat down across from her, already chattering.
“I went to the salon today and heard the most unbelievable rumor. Can you believe it? They say your fiancé is an incredible womanizer.”
“A womanizer?”
Ayla’s smooth forehead furrowed slightly.
Shuelle Everett, who was two years older than Ayla, was not known for having the kindest personality. However, she also wasn’t someone who spoke without reason. Even so, the idea of Rodrigo being a womanizer didn’t make any sense at all. The two ideas simply did not go together. Perhaps this time, her sister had misunderstood something.
Thinking that, Ayla responded calmly.
“Lord Rodrigo is the eldest son of the Esteban Count family and has even been knighted. It is hard to believe that someone like him would behave that way.”
“Listen to yourself. What does any of that matter? You are not seriously trying to talk about chivalry, are you?”
Shuelle’s expression twisted with irritation as she clicked her tongue and shook her head.
“I guess you wouldn’t know anything, since you have been tucked away in the duchy until now. Just because people notice you at banquets, you think you are something special? Let me remind you, Ayla, you are not the Empire’s Blue Rose. You need to stop fooling yourself.”
“I am not fooling myself.”
“Good. People may admire that pretty face of yours, but what they care about most is the name you carry. You got lucky. It’s all thanks to the Everett family. Do you understand that?”
By that logic, her sister was no different.
Ayla wanted to say it out loud but kept the words to herself. She lowered her gaze, afraid that if she looked up, she might actually speak her mind.
Unaware of Ayla’s inner conflict, Shuelle smiled as if satisfied and softened her tone.
“I heard something else at the salon. Apparently, Lord Rodrigo is incredible in bed. They say that once a woman sleeps with him, she becomes completely obsessed. Women line up to be with him. And he accepts them all, whether they are married or noble ladies. They even call him the man of the people.”
The man of the people?
He takes anyone who lines up?
What?
The bizarre words made it hard for Ayla to process what she was hearing. Her mind slowed down, struggling to understand.
Seeing her confused reaction, Shuelle leaned in and made a quiet suggestion.
“If you don’t believe me, go see for yourself tonight. Go to the Moonlight Mansion at the end of Rue Bar. Then you’ll understand.”
“The Moonlight Mansion? The one where the secret salon is held every night? The one where you can only enter if you wear a mask?”
“That’s the one. So you do know about it?”
Shuelle’s eyes widened with surprise. Ayla looked at her quietly and replied.
“My nanny told me I must never go there.”
Shuelle laughed softly and crossed her legs, then began bouncing one knee playfully.
“So what? Isn’t this your chance? You should at least see the outside world before you get married.”
“My hair color stands out. Even with a mask, people might recognize me.”
As Ayla played with a strand of her long blue hair, Shuelle gave a short laugh.
“You have no idea how many girls copied your hair color. That place is full of blue-haired women. You won’t get caught.”
She opened the zipper of her handbag and pulled something out. It was a mask decorated with feathers and sparkling jewels.
“I’ll lend this to you. And your nanny is off today, right? You might not get another chance like this.”
“You won’t regret it.”
Ayla stared at the mask for a moment, then slowly nodded.
She did not care what her sister’s real intentions were in urging her to go. What mattered to her was making the best choice in that moment. After all, it was her life.
“All right. I will go.”
She reached out and took the mask. The jewels on the black velvet shimmered brightly, catching her eye.
As Ayla looked down at the mask with an unreadable expression, Shuelle’s lips curled into a faint smile.
“You made the right choice, Ayla. You’re about to witness something very interesting.”
Later that night
Ayla stood just inside the entrance of the Moonlight Mansion, her eyes wide in disbelief.
Was it really this easy to get in?
She had expected tight security and had been nervous, but entry was surprisingly simple. Anyone dressed in fine noble clothes with a mask could enter. As someone visiting the mansion for the first time, Ayla had no way of knowing that this was always the case.
Looking around, she saw that the place was packed with young men and women. It was more crowded than she had imagined.
Her eyes widened in surprise.
Then, as a group of men approached her direction, Ayla instinctively straightened her posture.
Please. Just walk past me.
A few moments later, the tension in her shoulders eased. As she had hoped, the men walked past her without saying a word.
Nothing had happened.
Almost in a trance, Ayla began to walk forward.
In this unfamiliar place where no one paid her any attention, something in her heart began to stir.
But still…
This is not the time for this, Ayla. Just look around and get out of here.
Her only goal was to confirm the rumors about her fiancé, Rodrigo Esteban.
As she began looking around the salon, she soon spotted several women with the same blue hair as hers.
“They really are here…”
She had seen a few in passing on the streets before, but never this many people who had dyed their hair to match hers. It was the first time she had seen anything like it.
Of course it was. At the salons and banquets she occasionally attended, the real Ayla would appear. No noblewoman would want to stand in front of the original while being a mere imitation. That, and the fact that magical hair dyes had notoriously short-lasting effects, probably explained it.
At least that’s a relief. I won’t get caught because of my hair.
Feeling reassured, Ayla began walking again with more purpose. She glanced around quickly as she searched for Rodrigo, but he was not easy to spot. She circled through the entire hall, brushing off flirtatious remarks from masked men with a quickened pace.
Now, all that remained were the inner hallways and a row of private lounges stretching along the corridor.
I suppose I should check those before I leave…
After hesitating for a moment, Ayla stepped into the corridor. Her face turned red with embarrassment.
Inside one of the lounges, through a curtain that had not been fully drawn, she saw a man and woman engaged in a deep, passionate kiss.
She quickly turned her head away. Her eyes landed on another couple pressed close together on a plush sofa. That would have been fine, except the man had his face buried in the chest of a woman wearing a deeply cut dress.
Dear heavens. Where am I supposed to look?
If it were not for the mask covering her face, her flushed cheeks would have been completely exposed. She had expected this place to be somewhat decadent, but seeing it in person was far more shocking than she had imagined.
Trying to move her stiffened body, she turned her attention to the nearby tables. But no matter how hard she looked, she could not find Rodrigo.
She felt nervous, yet at the same time, slightly relieved.
Of course, Lord Rodrigo would not be in a place like this.
Shuelle had definitely been wrong. Maybe she had been annoyed at Ayla receiving so much attention at the last banquet and had tried to make trouble for her.
Letting go of her suspicions, Ayla turned around.
It’s time to go back.
She had not checked every private lounge, but it was not like she could go around pulling open every curtain. She was about to retrace her steps when it happened.
“See, holding from behind really is the best.”
A familiar voice stopped Ayla in her tracks. She froze, as if caught in a trap. The playful laughter of a man and woman reached her ears clearly.
“I don’t like it like this. I can’t see you.”
“Sometimes not seeing makes it more thrilling.”
“But we see each other almost every day.”
“Does that make it boring?”
A quiet chuckle followed.
Without thinking, Ayla turned her head. Her gaze settled on one of the private lounges she had just passed.
Swallowing hard, she took a small step backward. Her eyes caught the slight opening between the curtains that had not been completely closed. If she tilted her head just a little, she might be able to peek inside.
She hesitated. Just then, the familiar voice spoke again.
“Wow. Looking at you like this, it almost feels real.”
What felt real?
What on earth was happening behind that curtain?
