Chapter 5
Two days had passed since our late-night discussion, and now, here I was, seated in front of the mirror, getting ready for the announcement ceremony. The sun was starting to dip, casting a golden hue over the estate as the maids worked on my hair. It was strange how calm everything seemed on the surface when, in reality, everything was about to change.
The entire country knew about the grand ball happening at the Duke's estate this evening. For those invited, it was a rare event, and the fact that Alessio, the Duke himself, was hosting it sent shockwaves through the nobility. He had never bothered to entertain them before. That alone had them speculating. Why now? What could be so important?
They had no idea.
The thought of the nobility's reaction, and worse, the reaction of the royal family, made my stomach twist with anxiety. After tonight, nothing would be the same—not for me, and not for Alessio. His decision to make me the Duchess Vittorio Cavelli, wife of the Empire's only Grand Duke, was bound to stir a storm. It was a title that many coveted, a position that required much more than just standing beside a powerful man.
"...dy," a soft voice called, but it barely registered.
"...ady."
I blinked, lost in my thoughts.
"Lady!" The voice was louder this time, accompanied by a firm hand on my shoulder, shaking me gently.
I snapped out of my daze, turning to the maid who had been calling my name for some time now. Her face was filled with apology as she quickly withdrew her hand.
"I'm so sorry, my lady," she said, bowing.
"But the butler has been waiting for you."
I nodded, feeling the weight of my own thoughts pressing down on me.
"It's alright. Let him in."
The door opened, and the butler stepped inside, a sealed file in his hands. I knew immediately what it was—the newly drafted contract. My heart skipped a beat. Nobody knew what tonight's ball was really about, or the marriage that would take place within the week. In fact, aside from Alessio and me, only Sir Lucan and the butler were privy to the truth. It was better that way, at least until Alessio made the announcement.
I dismissed the maids with a wave of my hand, watching as they quietly filed out of the room, the door closing behind them.
The butler stepped forward and spoke with his usual measured tone.
"My lady, the Duke instructed me to bring these documents to you. They are essential for the marriage."
"I know," I replied, my voice weary from the weight of it all.
"The Duke also instructed that you review and sign them now."
That part surprised me. I wasn't sure how much the butler knew, but he seemed well-versed in the situation. I opened my mouth to ask, but before I could, he added,
"These are the documents for your legal transfer."
"Transfer?" I echoed, confused. "What do you mean by that?"
The butler's face remained calm, but his words only deepened my confusion.
"Yes, my lady. You are currently eighteen, which, while considered the age of a lady, is not the age of legal adulthood in the Mero Empire. You must be twenty to marry of your own will."
"But I've seen so many girls marry at sixteen, even seventeen,"
I interrupted, the word underage digging into me. If I counted my previous life, I was far from underage. I was already forty-four.
The butler gave me a small, patient smile. "That is because those girls were married by their families, my lady. Every girl in the Empire is considered of marriageable age at fifteen, but only if her family approves the union. If the family opposes the marriage, she cannot marry until she turns twenty."
I felt a knot tightening in my chest. "And since Viscount Rossano would never approve my marriage to the Duke..."
The butler nodded. "Precisely, my lady. The Duke can only marry you if he becomes your legal guardian. That way, no one—not the Viscount, not even the Emperor—can legally oppose the marriage."
It was starting to make sense now.
"And to become my guardian, he needs my approval. Once I sign, no one can stand in our way."
"Yes, my lady," the butler confirmed.
"The Duke will then be responsible for you, your actions, and your behavior until you reach twenty. All other formalities have been arranged. You simply need to sign."
I thought back to Alessio's words from our discussion—the contract was for three years, enough time to quiet the court and the Emperor's suspicions. This marriage, like everything else, was part of his meticulous planning. I wasn't sure whether to feel relieved or more trapped.
I took the file from the butler's hands, my fingers trembling slightly as I flipped it open. It was all there, laid out clearly. The moment I signed, I would be legally under Alessio's protection, bound to him in ways more than just name.
With a deep breath, I picked up the pen and signed the documents. The butler watched in silence, and when I was done, he took the papers from me with a bow.
"The Duke will be pleased, my lady. I shall take my leave now."
As the door clicked shut behind him, I sank back into the chair, staring at my reflection in the mirror. I let out a deep sigh, the weight of the decision sinking in.
"I'm officially under him now,"
I whispered to myself, the reality of it all hitting harder than I expected.
"Knock."
The sound of a knock at the door interrupted my thoughts.
"Come in," I called out.
The maid entered with a group of other maids and servants, their arms full of fabrics and accessories for the evening.
"My lady, we've come to assist you with your preparations."
I nodded, barely mustering any interest. "Go ahead."
As they worked on me, I felt a strange calm wash over me. The weight of what was about to happen hadn't lifted—it was just waiting for the right moment to crash down.
I stood in front of the mirror, barely recognizing the woman staring back at me. The deep emerald gown flowed like liquid, shimmering under the soft light of the room. Intricate gold embroidery adorned the bodice and sleeves, swirling into patterns that seemed to speak of power, grace, and a confidence I wasn't sure I possessed. The neckline was daring, yet the gown's elegance somehow softened it, and the flowing layers of fabric moved with every slight breath, adding an almost ethereal air to my reflection.
My dark red hair was styled in soft waves, cascading down my back, with a few delicate golden pins catching the light, twinkling like stars amidst the dark strands. They framed my face, accentuating the ruby-red eyes that stared back at me. I looked regal... but did I feel it?
I sighed. "Do I even look like myself anymore?"
Stepping away from the mirror, I made my way to the hallway that led to the ballroom. My heart pounded with each step. As I entered the grand hallway, I felt it immediately—the weight of their stares. The servants. Their eyes followed me, some subtle, some not so much. My skin prickled under the intensity of their gazes, and I found myself looking down, unable to meet their eyes.
What?! Am I looking that bad? Or is it... that they see me as unfit for this beautiful dress? I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks, and I fought the urge to turn back.
I kept walking, my eyes focused on the floor, the soft rustle of my gown echoing in the long hallway. The gazes never left me, trailing me all the way to the ballroom doors, and I clenched my hands at my sides, trying to ignore the humiliation burning in my chest. At the end of the hallway, I noticed a shadow.
It stood there, tall and still, as if waiting for something... or someone.
My heart skipped a beat. I could feel a strange tension rise within me, something unnameable and unfamiliar. It coiled deep in my chest, growing more intense with each step I took closer to the figure. My heart raced uncontrollably, pounding in my ears, but I couldn't figure out why.
Is it beating so fast because of fear... or... I hesitated. Curiosity?
I looked up, finally lifting my gaze as I stopped just 20 steps away from the figure. My breath caught.
There he was—Alessio Vittorio Cavelli. The Duke.
He stood there, bathed in the soft glow of the hallway's candles. His deep midnight blue coat was fitted perfectly to his broad shoulders, accented with silver details that shimmered faintly in the light. His posture was imposing, yet elegant, like he was born to command the attention of everyone in the room. And of course, he was.
W-wh-what?! Does he think I look bad too? I wondered as his expression shifted. His eyes widened slightly, a rare moment of surprise breaking through his usual cold demeanor. He looked... almost amused, as though he had been shown something precious, something unexpected.
But I'm pretty sure I didn't look that bad. Does he think this dress is too much for me? The thought shot through my mind, but before I could dwell on it, Alessio's expression hardened again. The amusement was quickly replaced by his usual commanding air, but there was something in his eyes that hadn't been there before. Something I couldn't quite place.
He snapped out of his brief reverie and strode towards me with that same confidence, stopping just inches away from where I stood frozen. With a smirk playing on his lips, he extended his hand toward me.
"Shall we?"
His voice was calm, polite, but with an edge of amusement that made my stomach flutter.
I hesitated for only a second before reaching out, but before I could fully place my hand in his, he caught it halfway, his fingers curling around mine in a firm grip. With a swift, fluid motion, he pulled me closer, his other hand coming to rest at my lower back.
My breath hitched. One of my hands was now pressed firmly against his broad chest, while the other was still held captive in his. The closeness was dizzying, and I could feel the stares from the servants intensify. A sharp gasp rippled through the hallway, and the whispers started.
"Huhk..." they exhaled in unison, clearly not expecting such a scene.
Servant 1: "Ahh... is she going to be the Duke's first mistress?"
Servant 2: "First?... Ah, you must be new here. This isn't the first time the Duke has brought a woman."
Servant 3: "Right. Though... the way he brought her was different from the others. Maybe it's because she's younger, but... he's still the Duke. He's always been surrounded by women."
Servant 4: "Hehe... if a girl like her can enter his bedroom chamber, maybe we have a chance too."
Their voices cut through the air, but I forced myself to keep my expression neutral, even though embarrassment flushed my cheeks. Alessio's grip tightened slightly, as if he heard the whispers too, but he didn't react outwardly. His gaze remained locked on mine, his eyes unreadable, though a flicker of something—irritation?—passed through them.
"You seem distracted,"
he murmured, his voice low enough that only I could hear. The smirk still played on his lips, but there was a sharpness behind it now.
"I..."
I started, but the words caught in my throat.
His hand at my lower back pressed me a little closer, and my heart pounded even louder in my chest. I could feel the strength in his hold, the way he effortlessly controlled the situation with a simple gesture. It was infuriating, but... undeniably mesmerizing.
Get a grip, Rosie. Don't let him see how flustered you are.
With that thought, I straightened, pulling back slightly to regain some semblance of composure. But his grip remained firm, his gaze locked on mine, daring me to break free.
And the whispers continued, swirling around us like a dark cloud.
The whispers buzzed louder in the background, their voices weaving together into an almost palpable force. I forced my head high, my spine straightening despite the heat rushing through me. I wasn't sure if it was the proximity to Alessio or the humiliating stares of the servants that set my skin on fire, but I wasn't about to let either of them see me falter.
I kept my hand on his chest, trying to focus on the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath the layers of fabric. It felt as though the entire world was watching us, waiting for me to make a mistake, to crumble under his unyielding gaze. But I wouldn't. Not tonight.
"I'm not distracted,"
I whispered back, forcing the words through my dry throat.
"Just... caught off guard."
My voice was steadier than I expected, which was something, at least.
Alessio's smirk deepened. He leaned in slightly, just enough that his breath ghosted across my cheek.
"Is that so?"
he mused, the amusement in his tone unmistakable. His eyes flickered toward the doors of the ballroom just behind us.
"Then, shall we give them more to whisper about?"
Before I could respond, his grip shifted. His hand slid down from my lower back, resting at the curve of my waist, while the other still held my hand in a gentle but unbreakable hold. Without another word, he began to lead me down the hallway, towards the grand entrance to the ballroom. His pace was measured, deliberate, as though every step was planned to draw out the attention we were garnering.
The whispers behind us grew even more frantic, but Alessio didn't seem to care. He moved with the same confidence as always, his presence commanding the room as effortlessly as he did my movements. I had no choice but to follow his lead, even though every fiber of my being screamed at me to pull away.
As we approached the ballroom doors, the soft music from within spilled into the hallway. I could feel the vibrations of it beneath my feet, the thrum of violins and piano setting an anticipatory rhythm to match the racing of my heart. The grand wooden doors loomed ahead, their ornate carvings framed by golden light pouring out from the ballroom beyond.
Alessio's gaze shifted from me to the ballroom, his smirk fading into something more serious. He glanced at me briefly, his eyes dark and intense, before he raised his hand—the one still firmly holding mine—and nodded to the guards stationed at the door.
The guards moved in sync, pulling the doors open with a heavy, echoing groan. The music swelled instantly, spilling out into the hallway, along with the laughter and chatter of the ballroom's guests. The light that poured from within bathed us both in a warm, golden glow.
I could feel the collective gaze of the ballroom turn toward us, the conversations faltering as they took in the sight of us together. Alessio standing tall and poised, his hand firmly grasping mine, pulling me along as though I was an extension of his will. And me, flushed, unsure, but doing my best to keep my head high and meet their gazes without flinching.
It felt like a dream, or perhaps a nightmare, walking into that room on Alessio's arm. I could hear the murmurs again, the gasps of surprise and the quiet speculation rippling through the crowd like a tidal wave. But unlike before, it wasn't the stares of the servants that unsettled me. It was the realization that these people—these nobles—would be my new audience. They would judge every step I took, every word I uttered, every move I made.
The tension coiled tighter in my chest, but I forced myself to keep walking.
Alessio led us through the crowd, his grip never faltering, his pace never slowing. The nobles parted for us as though we were royalty, some bowing their heads in acknowledgment of him, others watching with open curiosity. I caught the eye of a few women in the crowd, their gazes sharp and assessing, their lips curving into the faintest of smirks.
Jealousy. Of course. Why wouldn't they be jealous? Alessio was one of the most powerful men in the empire, and here I was, some nobody they'd never heard of, suddenly on his arm, walking into a royal ballroom like I belonged there.
They don't know I'm just a contract to him, I thought bitterly. To them, I'm just another woman in his collection, another trophy to be paraded around.
And maybe that was exactly how Alessio saw me, too.
As we reached the center of the ballroom, Alessio came to a stop, turning to face me. He released my hand, but his other hand remained on my waist, holding me firmly in place. I glanced up at him, my heart still racing, my mind spinning.
He said nothing for a moment, his eyes searching mine, as though he was trying to read my thoughts. And then, in a voice just loud enough for the surrounding crowd to hear, he spoke.
"You look beautiful tonight."
I blinked, startled by the sincerity in his tone. I opened my mouth to respond, but the words wouldn't come. I could only stare at him, confused, unsure of what game he was playing.
Before I could gather my thoughts, a voice cut through the crowd.
"Well, well, well, isn't this a surprise?"
I turned sharply toward the voice, my breath catching in my throat.
There, standing at the edge of the ballroom, was Sir Anton, the man I was supposed to marry before Alessio intervened. His expression was smug, his eyes glittering with malice as he stepped forward, his gaze fixed on me.
"What a lovely couple you two make," he said with a mock bow, his lips twisting into a sneer.
"I must say, Lady Rosie, you've upgraded quite impressively."
To be continued...