Chapter 1
Clatter…
The dimly lit carriage relied on the lanterns outside.
Each time the carriage rattled, Natalie jolted like she was having a seizure.
The prince simply sat across from her, staring.
His piercing gaze was anything but ordinary.
But wasn’t this prince known as the Angel? Though anxious, Natalie couldn’t believe something bad would actually happen.
“Miss Dawes, I’m merciful by nature, so I’ll give you a choice.”
“A ch-choice?”
So it’s true. There’s always a way out. Natalie lifted her eyes with a flicker of hope.
“Yes. Two options.”
Their eyes met again, and the prince gave a gentle smile that almost looked kind. Natalie relaxed for a second.
“You can either be executed the moment you step out of this carriage, or marry me.”
“…What?”
Natalie grimaced and asked again. She might’ve been a country girl, but even as a baron’s daughter, she knew it was deeply disrespectful to show such a face or question royalty. Still, it came out instinctively.
Fortunately, the prince didn’t point out her insolence.
“What can I do, you heard everything.”
In other words, he had no choice now that she’d overheard his secret.
“Personally, I’d recommend spending a year married to me and then becoming a divorcée. You probably heard earlier. I dream of being a divorcé.”
The prince beamed as he said it.
‘So now he wants to get that divorce with me?’ Natalie almost blurted, but bit her tongue, afraid he might cheerfully say, “Exactly.”
Death or marriage.
Natalie realized there was no way she’d get away with eavesdropping on the prince’s secret. Her throat dried with panic.
“…Please spare me.”
Please spare me. Please. Natalie pleaded, her voice trembling.
Her life was already too tangled to live like everyone else. But dying at this age? No thanks. Still, saying, “Alright, I’ll marry you,” felt just as absurd.
She could understand the prince wanting to be divorced, but Natalie had never once dreamed of becoming a divorcée. Divorce was rare, after all.
The prince looked at her with pity.
“Of course, I’d like to spare you too.”
Natalie’s eyes shimmered, hoping that meant he’d show more mercy.
“You weren’t even one of my bride candidates, originally.”
She nodded eagerly, agreeing with that completely.
But the prince smiled again, dashing her hopes.
“Still, you heard it all. What choice do I have?”
“But I really… ”
“I don’t want unnecessary sacrifices. And with your background, you’re actually an ideal bride. I don’t even need to explain the plan twice. Efficient.”
Natalie shook her head firmly, clearly thinking this wasn’t it.
“The more I think about it, the more I believe you’re perfect to be my wife. What do you think?”
The prince whispered that to her—the one person everyone agreed was the worst possible bride.
Let’s get married. And then divorced.
“There’s no man better for you than me.”
Oh god. He’s insane. Wrapped in a pretty shell, but definitely a bomb. Natalie’s eyes darted around, looking for an escape.
“A year as my wife could do a lot.”
As he said that, moonlight broke through the clouds and cast a glow on half his face through the window.
His icy blue eyes sparkled like they knew every corner of her life.
“For example.”
When he began, Natalie held her breath, begging him to stop.
“Your reputation, and your family’s, which crumbled because of that scandal with your erotic novel.”
Ah. But the prince didn’t stop. He exposed her flaws without hesitation.
“Once ruined, a reputation is hard to restore.”
Natalie wanted to hide anywhere. She even felt like jumping out of the moving carriage.
“If you became my wife, you could at least open up your sister’s blocked path to marriage.”
She exhaled without meaning to. Her sister’s face, whose marriage prospects had been ruined because of her, suddenly filled her mind.
She honestly wished she could turn back time and live her life over. She’d imagined it more times than she could count. ‘What if?’. She’d thought about that too much.
But the fairy godmother never came, and time just kept flowing.
The prince was talking like he could grant a miracle only a fairy godmother could pull off.
‘A contract marriage? Seriously?’
How did it come to this? Natalie slowly retraced her past, even knowing it was pointless. It was instinct. Something like that.
—
Three years ago. Spring.
The social season of the capital, Dwan, in the Kingdom of Grand Batten, had begun.
For unmarried young ladies of marriageable age, the social season was like the start of a once-in-a-lifetime battle.
From debutantes entering society for the first time this year to those returning for a second try after failing to find a match last year. The young ladies gathering in Dwan for spring all carried a solemn determination in their hearts.
Except for Natalie Dawes and a few of her close friends.
“Miss Dawes!”
Mary, the young but uptight maid of the Heaton family, threw open the door to the guest room where Natalie, an uninvited visitor, was staying.
“…Mmm.”
“It’s time to get up. A proper young lady should already be seated in the breakfast room.”
“Ah… Mary, I’m too hungover. Just today…”
A near-dead voice spilled out from under the bundle of blankets curled into a ball.
Natalie had partied until the end of last night’s ball with her noble friend, Lady Christina Doweigh, daughter of a marquess. Of course, Emily Heaton, her cousin of the same age, was with them, likely sprawled out in the next room in a similar state.
The three of them clicked in every way and were always stuck together like one. That probably explained why none of them had married yet.
“Get a hold of yourself, Miss Dawes. Even if you came home at 3 a.m., skipping breakfast won’t be tolerated by Madam.”
As always!
Mary had a powerful voice. Thanks to that, Natalie’s hangover pain doubled instantly, and she winced in agony.
‘Madam’ was Natalie’s aunt, Mrs. Heaton. She was also the mother of Emily Heaton, who drank with Natalie until dawn.
Mrs. Heaton had married the eldest son of the wealthy Heaton family, who were doctors, and owned a grand house in a prime part of Dwan. Anyone who loved the city would envy it.
Her husband may not have had a title, but considering she was the third daughter of a minor rural noble family, she had done well for herself.
Maybe that’s why she was overflowing with pride in her accomplishments and had a strong admiration for the life of a noble lady. She was vain and picky to boot.
“Miss!”
And they say servants take after their masters. Mary raised her voice again, sharper this time, to rush Natalie.
Mary had no intention of cutting Natalie slack. As a last resort, she yanked off the blanket wrapped around Natalie like a cocoon and shouted while shaking it roughly. Thanks to her chores, she had built up some muscle.
“The ten o’clock bell will ring soon! As a proper lady, please follow the rules of ‘Heaton Park’.”
Struck in the face by the flapping blanket, Natalie suddenly felt like throwing up and quickly covered her mouth with a palm.
‘Heaton Park, my foot… Rules? Seriously?’
She groaned and thought bitterly.
Still, what could she do? Like how you follow the laws of the land you’re in, you had to follow the rules of the house you stayed in.
Natalie was currently living off her aunt, meaning she was staying at the Heatons’ estate which was what Mrs. Heaton proudly called “Heaton Park.”
Heaton Park was a name Mrs. Heaton had invented, likely inspired by other noble estates. Naturally, no one else actually called it that. It was just “the Heatons’ house.”
Regardless, the lady of the house and her servants seemed quite fond of the nickname and used it stubbornly among themselves.
Thinking it was a harmless kind of vanity, Natalie yawned deeply and stretched.
But to Mary, the guest hungover and barely moving looked no better than a worm wriggling on white sheets.
Still, Natalie was a baron’s daughter. The only true noble under this roof. Even if she was from the far south of Grand Batten, some place called Warfield or whatever, a total backwater.
‘That brat, that absolute brat!’
So Mary could only curse her silently. As a servant who took pride in Heaton Park, she couldn’t stand this shameless young lady who leached off her aunt’s home every season but had no real desire to find a husband.
“Rules are rules. Even if this is your third season staying here.”
In the end, Mary couldn’t hold back her irritation and let her annoyance slip out coldly.
“…Fine. I’ll get up. Yes, yes. For the sacred rules of ‘Heaton Park.’ I’m getting up right now.”
Natalie blinked a few times at Mary’s jab and then feigned good cheer as she sat up.
Strict Mary only moved once she saw Natalie actually rising. Then, without warning, she yanked open the thick curtains that covered the window.
Ssshhh… With that sound, the room suddenly flooded with light, revealing Natalie’s dark brown hair and eyes, which had looked nearly black in the dark. Her skin was so pale it looked ghostly in contrast, and even though her features were round, her face stood out clearly, giving off a somewhat exotic air.
Blinded by the sudden sunlight, Natalie instinctively scrunched up her face.
But she didn’t complain. She knew all too well how chilly the servants in this house were toward her. Still, she always pretended not to notice.
‘Well, I get it. I’d be annoyed by me too.’
Natalie had debuted in society two years ago. So technically, this was her third year. Her third season.
Which meant this was her third time staying at her aunt’s house.
