Chapter 3
Ayla’s pale hand, which had instinctively reached toward the curtain, hesitated.
Is it really okay to peek?
Spying on someone’s private moment was clearly wrong.
But this concerns me too.
Even though she did not want to fall into Shuelle’s obvious trap, this situation was about her. That was the reason she had come all this way.
She had to confirm it for herself.
The moment she pulled the curtain slightly aside to look inside, Ayla’s eyes widened in shock.
It was unmistakably Rodrigo Esteban standing with his back to her.
He was tall, about 185 centimeters. His shoulders were broad, and his legs were long and well-proportioned. His neatly brushed blond hair was just as she remembered.
The deep navy suit he wore caught her eye. It was a tailored piece from Andrea’s Atelier, the same place he often used. She even remembered telling him once how well that suit suited him when he came to visit her.
It was shocking enough to see him there.
But what truly made Ayla freeze in place was something else.
Why… of all things…
It was the hair. That familiar color.
The woman with him, moving in rhythm with Rodrigo’s movements, had thick, wavy, and strikingly familiar blue hair. The same length. The same hue.
It looked exactly like Ayla’s.
A woman with blue hair, wrapped in the arms of the man she was supposed to marry, was a vision so close to herself that it left her dizzy with confusion and discomfort.
She stepped back in horror.
The curtain slipped from her fingers and quietly fell back into place, cutting off her view.
Rodrigo’s voice echoed in her mind, the words he had spoken just moments ago.
“You really do look real like this.”
Now she understood what that meant.
Nausea welled up in her throat, and she instinctively covered her mouth.
What is this… What the hell is going on?
She bit down hard on her lower lip, overwhelmed by a surge of disgust.
And as if to mock her, the moans of pleasure from behind the curtain continued to spill into the hallway, only deepening her sense of shock and humiliation.
Her mind began to go blank.
What am I supposed to do in a situation like this?
Should I storm in there and confront him?
The thought crossed her mind, but she quickly shook her head.
There was no reason to go that far. They were not even married yet.
Besides, the woman in there had the same hair color as her.
She had no desire to stand next to a woman like that in front of that disgrace of a man.
Some might say hair color was not a big deal, but in the Empire, Ayla’s blue hair and blue eyes were more than just rare. They were symbolic. People even called her the “Blue Rose of the Empire.”
It was not a color just anyone could have.
Ironically, Ayla had never been particularly fond of her blue hair.
I need to get out of here.
She had to avoid being seen at all costs. The thought of confronting them now was unbearable.
More than anything, she needed time. Time to gather her thoughts, time to calm the storm inside her.
Just as she turned quickly to leave, something snapped.
Her mask slipped off her face and fell to the floor.
Ayla panicked. She reached out to grab it, but in the process, she accidentally knocked over a vase sitting on a nearby pedestal.
“No…”
The word escaped her lips before she could stop it.
Realizing what she had done, she immediately covered her mouth with both hands.
But it was too late.
The vase hit the ground with a loud crash, shattering into countless pieces.
To make matters worse, the moaning from inside the curtain stopped abruptly.
Fear of being discovered turned her mind completely blank.
Just then, the curtain was yanked open from the inside.
A man’s hand emerged and roughly pulled the fabric aside.
Then, out of nowhere, someone grabbed Ayla by the waist and spun her into his arms.
“…Who’s there?”
Rodrigo’s voice came at the worst possible moment, and every muscle in Ayla’s body went rigid.
She instinctively curled up in the arms of the man who had just shielded her.
She could sense him turning his head slightly toward Rodrigo and responding with calm ease.
“My apologies. I was in a bit of a hurry.”
“…Tsk. Even if you’re in a rush, try to be more careful.”
Rodrigo clicked his tongue in disapproval and walked back into the lounge.
He didn’t recognize me…
Ayla held her breath, clutching her racing heart.
She remained frozen, afraid to move.
Then, above her head, the man’s relaxed and unhurried voice broke the silence.
“Are you planning to stay like this forever?”
The deep tone stopped Ayla’s thoughts from spinning.
She looked up reflexively.
What she saw were eyes the color of blood, staring straight through her.
They held her gaze. Crimson, sharp, and intense.
Like liquid flame.
Oh no… my mask.
Suddenly remembering her bare face, Ayla gasped and tried to pull away.
The man, sensing her urgency, quietly let go of her waist.
Face pale with panic, Ayla quickly snatched up the mask from the floor and ran off as fast as she could.
The man’s gaze followed the back of her head as she fled through the hallway.
“…Quicker than she looks.”
Leo chuckled quietly as he watched Ayla’s retreating figure.
“I didn’t expect to see her here again.”
He opened his hand and stared at his palm, where her warmth still lingered, then slowly closed it.
The image of her eyes, hiding in his arms just moments ago, flickered in his mind like a mirage.
“…Still as foolish as ever.”
Murmuring to himself, Leo cast a sharp look at the curtain behind which moaning had resumed. He clicked his tongue and turned away.
Ayla had always loved the night.
Not just because of the moonlight or the sparkling stars.
The night allowed her to be alone. It gave her space to breathe. It was the only time she could feel free, the only time she could gather herself and rebuild her strength.
Just like now.
“I want to break off the engagement.”
Ayla had spent the entire night piecing her shattered heart back together. Now, her decision was firm.
She knew it would not be easy.
Her engagement to Rodrigo Esteban had always been a political one, arranged between two powerful noble families.
She remembered clearly the afternoon, four months ago, when her father called her into his study.
“A marriage proposal has arrived for you. The engagement will come first, and the wedding is set for six months from now. Make sure you understand.”
“It may not be the most ideal arrangement, but what can we do? He is not much older than you, he is the heir to a count’s family, and he has decent looks. At the very least, he meets the basic requirements.”
At first, Ayla simply thought that the day had finally come.
But her father’s next words left an impression that lingered. The phrase “basic requirements” stayed in her mind.
So the reasons behind her marriage were simply a small age gap, noble status, and good looks?
Even if he was always cold to me… was it because he loved me?
The realization filled her completely. It made her so happy that she could cry. Just knowing that her father had cared, that he had considered her even a little, made her feel like she could do anything. Even if that meant marrying a man she had never seen before.
So what if I do not know him? We can learn about each other over time. At least he is not an old man with a round belly and strange desires.
Ayla had always known she would never escape a political marriage. Because of that, she often imagined how bad her future might become.
She had felt that fear when she read a newspaper article about a marquis in his forties who had lost his wife to illness and was already planning his next marriage.
She felt it again when she heard a bald count at a party laugh and say he would give all his wealth to any young noblewoman who married him.
And when she heard a story about a powerful merchant, so heavy that he might crush a person beneath him, bragging that he would marry a noblewoman just to have children, she felt it even more.
Compared to those horrifying thoughts, being engaged to the heir of a count’s family who was only three years older and had a decent appearance felt like a small miracle.
Could I really build a happy home with a man I love?
Just as she was beginning to feel a little hope, something she had completely given up on, Rodrigo returned from studying abroad in time for their engagement ceremony.
“I will make your future shine, My Lady.”
With a confident smile, her fiancé had seemed gentle and warm. He was tall, looked good in a suit, and had golden blond hair that suited him well.
Their engagement ceremony was held simply in the garden of the family mansion, and it became one of the few days in Ayla’s life that felt vivid and memorable.
But now…
He said it feels real when he looks at her like that?
It felt disgusting. It felt shameful. But more than anything, it was terrifying.
She was afraid she would never be happy.
“It will be alright. If Father finds out, I am sure he will reconsider everything.”
Even if it was a political marriage based on family interest, her father had still considered her future enough to choose someone with basic decency.
He had always been strict, but if he truly loved her, then surely, he would let her break the engagement.
Holding on to that belief, Ayla waited for the morning.
