Chapter 12
“Damn it, Katrina. You said it would only take a little help, but you’ve had me cleaning up your messes for years. What a pain.”
You can’t even handle something this simple without making it a disaster!
Sheffer was already seething from enduring Lady Boren’s tantrum back at the ballroom. Now, his mood had sunk even lower.
If it hadn’t been for that woman’s interference, things would’ve ended long ago.
“Sheffer isn’t even your real name, is it?”
“What does a name matter?”
“……”
“As long as I’m known as your mother’s cousin, it’s in your best interest to keep things the way they are.”
Sheffer Boren stepped closer to Tericia. He hated the way her violet eyes stared directly at him. He wanted nothing more than to wipe that look from her face.
Inside the ballroom, the music changed. It was the signal that the formal entrance had begun.
Tericia clenched her hands tightly, making sure no one could see them trembling. She didn’t need to be afraid of a man like him.
But even so, every time a grown man approached, her body reacted instinctively—recoiling with an ache in her chest and a sick twist in her stomach.
Physically, she didn’t believe she could overpower him.
She wasn’t a knight—and even if she were, recklessly fighting back could still get her hurt. She knew that all too well.
Sir Heinz would arrive soon. She just needed to hold out until then.
Maybe I should’ve learned some self-defense…
A bitter smile crept across her lips. It seemed to irritate Sheffer, who suddenly exploded in anger.
“You think I’ll just stand here and take this?!”
He lunged at her threateningly, and Tericia instinctively stepped back.
She’d vowed not to retreat—but her body didn’t obey her mind. In an instant, the space between them vanished.
Fear surged up inside her, and her eyes squeezed shut.
“…!”
Suddenly, her body spun, and someone stepped in front of her like a shield.
There was a dull thud, followed by Sheffer’s groan of pain and the heavy sound of a body crashing to the ground.
Almost simultaneously, a flurry of synchronized footsteps rushed in with sharp commands.
“Lady Tericia, are you alright?!”
“Quick, get him—!”
“My lady!”
The rising music from the ballroom swallowed the noise, but one low voice cut through the chaos and reached her.
“How dare you…”
Thump—it struck her chest like a drumbeat.
No… it couldn’t be.
Tericia opened her eyes.
A broad back stood like a fortress in front of her, shielding her completely.
Black hair. The familiar silhouette long buried in her memories.
“…Rashid?”
At her whisper, the man slowly turned.
Relief, disbelief, and joy flashed chaotically across Tericia’s face. Her wide, astonished eyes gradually found focus and light again.
Golden eyes, bright as the sun, locked with hers.
When she saw the gentle gaze, the warmth behind those intelligent eyes, her whole body trembled without meaning to.
“Sister.”
A voice lower and softer than she remembered.
The boy’s face was gone. The man before her had become someone entirely different.
“I’m back, Sister.”
Rashid, now taller than her, looked down at her with a warm smile.
His voice, deeper and more stirring than any she had recalled, echoed in her ears and pressed against her heart.
The child she had held close so long ago was no longer there. In his place stood a stranger with familiar eyes.
As if to say it was okay now, Rashid gently took her trembling hands into his own. Her small fingers were easily enclosed by his.
“You’re not hurt, are you?”
“Rashid… Is it really you?”
“Yes, Sister. It’s me.”
Without looking away from her, Rashid slowly raised her hand and placed a kiss on the back of it.
Tericia finally exhaled the breath she had been holding in so tightly.
“How did you…?”
“I graduated. I rode hard to arrive before the ball began.”
He really must have ridden hard—there was still a trace of wind in his scent.
“It must’ve been a long ride.”
“It was worth it.”
He spoke as if it hadn’t been difficult at all.
“You don’t even look like you broke a sweat.”
“I changed as soon as I arrived at the palace.”
Rashid was wearing the black ceremonial uniform of the Hespelt Knights.
The blend of black and gold—the signature colors of House Hespelt—suited him perfectly. The cloak draped over one shoulder completed the look. Even if it had been an ordinary uniform, it would’ve looked extraordinary on him.
“Sir Heinz prepared this for me. Does it suit me?”
“Yes, very much.”
“I’m glad. I was hoping you’d like it.”
Tericia smiled faintly at his words.
“What’s the point in pleasing me? You should be impressing the other ladies.”
“I only care about impressing you, Sister.”
“Rashid…”
Just as she opened her mouth to say something, Sir Heinz approached.
“It’s time to make your entrance.”
At those words, Rashid looked to Tericia again.
“Will you be alright?”
“Yes.”
Tericia gave herself a once-over. Thankfully, she looked composed. The trembling had subsided. She could pretend as if nothing had happened.
“Shall I escort you in?”
Rashid held out his hand.
It was no longer the small hand of a boy—it was a large, calloused man’s hand, hardened from years of training. His outstretched palm silently told the story of everything he had endured.
Tericia gazed at it for a moment, then placed her hand gently atop his.
“You’re finally letting me escort you.”
Rashid smiled softly, now towering above her with his grown height.
Tericia blinked, confused for a moment—then remembered. And laughed aloud. It seemed those past refusals had stuck with him after all.
“You’ve been holding on to that?”
“Let’s just say… I swore I’d never let any other man escort you before me. I’d sooner die—or worse.”
“What?”
A strange yelp echoed from somewhere behind them. Tericia turned, startled, wondering what it was, but Rashid quickly wrapped an arm around her waist and gently drew her closer.
“It’s been quite a while. Shall we go in?”
He shifted to let her lean slightly against him, guiding her naturally as they began walking—as if he had always done so.
＊＊＊
The Spring Banquet Hall was in an uproar.
The cause? None other than Lady Tericia of House Hespelt entering arm in arm with her cavalier—Lord Rashid Hespelt—who had appeared unexpectedly, later than scheduled.
Many guests, unaware that Rashid had even arrived, were visibly shocked to see the two walking in hand-in-hand.
Especially at the moment when their names were announced together, Lady Boren dropped the champagne glass she had been holding.
The small stir it caused was quickly buried in the room’s reaction. That’s how much of a shock Rashid’s appearance was.
“The looks on their faces are priceless.”
Tericia murmured with a small, satisfied curve of her lips.
“One face in particular stands out.”
Rashid followed her gaze to Lady Boren. Even from afar, it was easy to see her struggling to contain her rage, her fan clenched so tightly her knuckles had turned white.
She’s going to explode once we’re home.
A sigh escaped Tericia without her meaning to.
“Is it bothering you?”
“A little.”
“There’s no need to worry. Nothing will happen.”
“There better not be.”
Her eyes shifted to the center of the ballroom, where the opening dance was underway.
“By the way…”
Rashid tapped her hand lightly, the one resting on his arm, his tone faintly disapproving.
“Why isn’t the Lady of Hespelt leading the opening dance?”
Being of the highest noble rank in the empire after the royal family, it was only natural to expect her in that position. Though Rashid didn’t say the rest, Tericia could hear it clearly in his tone.
The young lady currently dancing in the center of the ballroom was the daughter of a countess who happened to be under the Empress’s patronage. It was rare, but not unheard of.
“It’s not that important.”
“……”
Rashid didn’t respond. It was hard to tell what he was thinking.
When he was younger, I could read him like a book.
Now that he’d returned as a grown man, he had become someone whose thoughts were far harder to discern.
“Let’s go greet the Duke.”
Rather than probe further, Tericia simply guided Rashid toward the Duke.
“Father.”
Rashid placed his hand over his chest and bowed respectfully. It was perhaps a little too formal for a son’s greeting—but the Duke said nothing.
“Lady Boren.”
Rashid then inclined his head slightly toward Lady Boren.
It was a clearly different gesture than the one he had given the Duke—and the difference wasn’t lost on anyone.
Publicly, it was known that Lady Boren had requested to retain her maiden name. But in truth, it had been a decision forged by the Emperor and the Duke.
The Duke, resenting the political marriage forced by the Emperor, refused to grant her the Hespelt name. The Emperor, for his part, allowed it—placating the Duke without much care for the consequences.
Rashid, too, had always insisted on addressing her as Lady Boren. He had disliked her ever since he was a child.
There was no way Lady Boren didn’t understand the contempt hidden in that name. She wasn’t ignored, but she was never respected either. That was her place now.
“I’m glad you returned safely,” she said, feigning composure.
“Thanks to your concern.”
No one in the room misunderstood his meaning.
Tericia pressed her lips slightly, holding her smile together so it wouldn’t crack.
