"Ladies and gentlemen… presenting Lady Yulianna of the McGregor household."
Draped in a royal blue velvet gown, Yulianna drew in one last steadying breath before stepping into the ballroom. Her heart pounded as if it might burst from her chest, yet her expression remained calm and composed, untouched by the storm inside her. The off-shoulder corseted dress shimmered under the golden lights, paired with silk gloves and a neatly braided updo, completing her poised elegance.
Every gaze turned to her. She could feel them—envy, admiration, awe. Whispers stirred like ripples across the hall at the mere sight of her. But Yulianna's eyes sought only one person.
A pair of icy eyes found hers. They held her in place, as if silently commanding her to focus on him and no one else. Cold, mesmerizing, impossible to ignore.
"We meet again, my lady."
Duke Caspien stepped forward, offering his hand with effortless grace, a faint smile curving perfectly on his lips. "You look just as beautiful as the first time I saw you."
Yulianna's face almost twisted in disbelief, but she pulled herself together and returned a polite smile. "You flatter me, Your Grace. I wouldn't even be here tonight if it weren't for you."
Caspien let out a soft chuckle, the curve of his lips deepening. "Think nothing of it. Anyone would have done the same."
Goosebumps crawled over Yulianna's skin as she got a closer look at him. It took everything in her not to curse aloud. How was it even legal for a person to look like that?
If plastic surgery existed in this world, I wouldn't be standing here getting starstruck by this man. That face alone could start a war.
"Is something the matter, my lady?" His voice was calm, yet edged with authority, pulling Yulianna back to the present.
She stumbled over her thoughts, cursing herself inwardly for acting foolish. "No, not at all. It's just… well, this whole thing is a bit too much to take in, you know?"
Damn it. I'd rather have him look at me with no expression than likethat. What is he up to? And why is this body reacting like this?
"That's understandable," he replied evenly. "After what happened earlier, no one could simply brush it off." Yet his gaze never left her face, as though he was quietly reading every reaction she made.
Yulianna cleared her throat and let her eyes wander around the hall. That's when she realized they were already at the center of attention. Some noble ladies were glaring at her with thinly veiled hostility, and she was definitely not healed enough to punch someone just yet. As much as possible, she wanted to avoid stirring trouble.
"Why don't we start the dance, Your Grace? I'd rather get it over with than stay in this room any longer," Yulianna said bluntly. "I hope you don't mind." She took his hand and closed the distance between them.
He chuckled softly, but she was already pulling him toward the dance floor. They would be the first pair to dance—an honor reserved for the winner of the hunt and his chosen lady.
However, Yulianna stopped mid-way. Her nerves tightened as a horrifying realization struck her. Her grip unconsciously tightened around Caspien's hand, drawing his attention.
I don't know how to dance! How in the f**ing world am I supposed to tell him that?! The real owner of this body probably danced like a goddess, but I sure don't!*
She turned toward him with a nervous chuckle, meeting his questioning gaze. "May I ask something, Your Grace?"
"Go ahead."
"Well… is it possible to have a substitute?"
"A substitute for what?" Caspien asked, watching her closely.
Yulianna gave him the sweetest, widest smile she could muster, so forced she could feel her cheeks straining. "For me. I forgot how to dance."
A moment of silence fell between them. His expression stayed unreadable, eyes fixed on hers as if trying to decipher something.
Then, he let out a soft chuckle, as though he had expected this all along. "Worry not, my lady. I'll be your guide until the music ends."
Somehow, his smile was far more terrifying than his words.
This time, he was the one pulling her forward. Yulianna allowed it, not wanting to raise any more suspicion. She knew that smile carried a hidden meaning—she just couldn't figure out what, but she could feel it.
Once they reached the center of the dance floor, both of them bowed politely to the emperor seated upon the imperial throne. Beside him, the golden-haired crown prince nodded in approval, signaling for the music to begin.
The music began to swell through the ballroom. Caspien stepped forward with ease, his right hand settling around Yulianna's waist while his left took hers. They moved together as though they belonged in that moment—graceful, effortless, almost heavenly matched. He was close—too close. She could feel the steady rise and fall of his breath, even the calm rhythm of his heartbeat.
Yulianna, meanwhile, did everything in her power not to look at him. Her own heartbeat was a chaotic mess, her skin prickling with heat. Not from some romantic flutter—no, it was pure shame. She had already stepped on his foot more times than she could count before she finally caught onto his lead.
How long is this dance supposed to last? An eternity? My feet are going to fall off. These heels are killing me. Four inches? Seriously—was I trying to fight the ballroom or the laws of balance?
"So," Caspien said suddenly, voice smooth but expression unreadable, "may I ask what made you forget how to dance?"
His tone was polite, almost gentle, but his eyes said something else entirely—stop with the excuses.
Fortunately, Yulianna had already prepared a reasonable excuse.
She finally met his eyes. "I'm sure Your Grace has heard about the river incident. My… clumsiness caused it, and after I was unconscious for a while, I forgot some things."
"Ah, the river incident." Caspien echoed calmly. He stepped in, pulled her closer for a brief moment, then let her go as she spun beneath his guiding hand. On the third turn, she was drawn right back into his arms. "So that's where it all began."
They continued gliding across the floor, perfectly in rhythm as the music deepened, nearing its crescendo. Yet the harmony of their steps did little to ease the growing tension in her chest. His voice had dropped low—colder, heavier—and his expression had hardened.
A sudden throb of pain flared from her healing wound, making her flinch. Her composure began to slip, and she could feel control over her expression faltering.
Yulianna forced a polite smile. "What do you mean, Your Grace? I could barely follow your words."
"It seems you didn't just forget how to dance," Caspien murmured, lowering his head as he leaned closer. His breath brushed her ear. "You also forgot the letter of marriage you sent me last year."
What?! She—this body—courted him? Dear God. You've got to be kidding me. And here I was wondering why this body reacts strangely around him. Madness. How could her feelings stay, but her soul was gone?
"Does that ring a bell?" he added softly, eyes fixed on hers as if trying to peel the truth out of them.
Yulianna tried to maintain her smile, but her lips failed and a sarcastic laugh escaped instead. She was caught between fury and disbelief.
"Not at all, Your Grace," she said firmly. "I barely remember anything from the past. So we might as well forget about it… don't you think?"
But Caspien's expression said otherwise.
He chuckled. "I don't think so, my lady. A request from Duke Rohane's beloved daughter isn't something one declines. Even if I wanted to, I wouldn't." His lips curved, though his eyes remained cold. "I wouldn't want to be the cause of friction between our households. After all, the proposal came from Lady Yulianna herself."
He's not actually planning to accept it, right? He wouldn't marry this body just because of that letter... right? That would be the end of me. I'd be nothing but a pawn in his games, and once he loses interest, I'm done for.
"Well, I'm sure the matter can be settled without tension between our households," Yulianna replied, trying desperately to remain composed. "As long as both parties agree, there should be no problem at all."
God knows her patience was hanging by a thread. On top of that, her left arm throbbed relentlessly, the pain draining what little strength she had left. She had to clench her teeth to keep from groaning.
"That's not the option we have here, my lady," Caspien said, pressing further, his voice deceptively pleasant. "Your father's will is what matters most. His signature was on the request, too." He smiled. "Who am I to refuse? I may be a duke, but even I cannot overlook His Grace's influence."
Yulianna's brows drew together. "You're speaking reasonably, not logically, Your Grace."
Words were failing her. The discussion of marriage was the last thing she wanted to deal with. Her feet ached from the dance, and her arm stung with every heartbeat.
I'll deal with this later. I need to focus. This damn wound is testing my patience. I thought it was almost healed.
"That's not where your focus should be right now, my lady," he replied. The music began to slow—two more turns, and the dance would be over.
Caspien's gaze flickered to her left arm just as they paused. "You should be preparing for tomorrow's ceremony. The role requires your consistency."
"And why is that? I'm only going to walk through that hall and be done with it," Yulianna retorted, noticing the corner of his lips lift.
"Indeed. Just a march, my lady." He leaned slightly closer, every angle of him annoyingly perfect. "But before that, you must fast for three consecutive days—only water. We can deal with our marriage later after that."
He reached out and gently tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear, then bowed as the music ended and walked away. Yulianna stood frozen in place, speechless, as couples began filling the dance floor to the next song.
Did he just tell me to starve for three f***ing days?!
By the time reality sank in, she was already standing in a quiet corner, gulping down glass after glass of red wine. Frustration and exhaustion clawed at her. Worst of all, his words kept repeating in her mind like a curse. And even if her sanity rejected it, her traitorous body seemed almost thrilled.
We can deal with our marriage later after that.