-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

Chapter 1. The Medal of the Rutland Family

He wants to have you, and you want revenge on him.

Do you know what the best way to utterly devastate him is?

Make him fall in love with you—and then love someone else.

That’s the cruelest revenge you, with nothing, can take on him.

So, how about it? Why not try loving me?

* * *

“The Duke of Rutland, His Grace Alexion Rutland, and the Duchess, Lady Ino Clowen, have arrived!”

The servant’s voice, shouting toward the hall, had a harsh metallic rasp to it. This loud announcement of their entrance was a hollow imitation of imperial formality, something often mimicked at parties of ordinary nobles. Ino tried not to wrinkle her face at the acrid scent that came from his voice.

“Smile. Happily, if you can.”

The man escorting her spoke without moving his lips, his face wearing a faint smile. Alexion Rutland, a handsome young man with dull golden-brown hair slicked back with oil, was her legal husband.

Instead of answering him, Ino gently pulled up the corners of her mouth into a small smile. That tiny change in expression alone brought a touch of elegance to her appearance. Seeing that hollow, beautiful smile, Alexion turned his gaze away in satisfaction.

As the servant opened the half-closed doors wide, every eye in the hall turned toward them. Dozens, hundreds of eyes bore down on Ino like a crushing weight.

“……”

“What are you doing? Move.”

Just as Alexion stepped into the hall, he noticed Ino standing still, her arm linked with his, unmoving. He seized her wrist harshly.

“Ah…”

The gemstones in her bracelet, sharpened for ornamental flair, were pressed into her skin under the force of his grip. The sharp pain brought her back to her senses.

“Walk.”

Alexion whispered with barely any movement of his lips. Only then did Ino begin to walk.

The twenty-seven-year-old Duke, with his tall and polished appearance, and the dazzlingly beautiful twenty-six-year-old Duchess looked, at a glance, like a well-matched couple.

“They’ve arrived—the Rutland family’s medal, and her master.”

A woman whispered from afar, hiding her mouth behind an open fan.

“Medal?”

The man standing beside her asked, confused. He was a minor provincial noble, still new to the capital’s social scene.

“Ino Clowen. The most honorable and most fleeting medal of the Rutland family.”

The woman looked at him with a condescending gaze, as if asking how he could not know. His expression turned sheepish. He really should’ve read more of the papers if he didn’t want to look like a country bumpkin.

“I know what happened. The Grand Duchy of Lartan and the Lyndon Count’s family…”

The man tried to act informed by dredging up memories, but the woman quickly cut him off.

“Shh. In the capital, you need to be more careful with your words. It’s been… yes, seven years now, since the Clowen family lost the Grand Duke of Lartan’s title and was left with nothing but the hollow title of the Duke of Fischer.”

Time flies, doesn’t it? she said, fluttering her fan.

“No one expected Alexion Rutland to be the only one to reach out a hand when no one else did.”

Her tone was calm.

“Especially since Alexion Rutland was the very one who ruined the Clowen family.”

Meanwhile, the “medal” of the Rutland family the woman had mentioned—Ino Clowen—was standing nearby, greeting others alongside her husband.

“The Duchess looks absolutely radiant again today.”

A man with a thick, luxuriously curled mustache laughed heartily as he complimented Ino.

“If I could see that smile every day at home, I’d hand over a diamond mine, no questions asked. When it’s just the two of you, does she show a face that stirs a man’s heart a bit more?”

At the teasing comment, Alexion glanced sideways at Ino. She was simply smiling in silence. Smiling without emotion was one of the things she did best—and it was the only duty Alexion Rutland had ever imposed on her.

“Even a jewel worth millions becomes tiresome if you look at it every day, Lord Swan.”

Alexion, who didn’t much like others showing interest in his wife, replied with a hint of sarcasm.

“And how much more so with people.”

He gave a light, affable laugh, pretending to be a gentleman, but anyone could see he was belittling his wife.

To publicly insult one’s spouse, even as a joke, was far from refined behavior. Though Count Swan cursed Alexion inwardly for it, he paid no mind to Ino, who had just been humiliated in public while standing still at her husband’s side.

“I’m more curious about how your diamond mine is faring these days, Lord Count.”

“Well, nothing special to report.”

Count Swan twitched his mustache as he dodged the question.

“Would you be willing to share a bit more? His Imperial Highness the Crown Prince has taken great interest in the matter.”

The mention of the Crown Prince, delivered with a smile, made Count Swan groan softly to himself.

Whether you put it nicely as the prince’s friend or bluntly as his watchdog, when Alexion Rutland wanted information, it was ultimately because Crown Prince Lucas—the future emperor—wanted it.

Count Swan looked around the room, then quietly instructed a servant to prepare a private room where they could talk more discreetly.

“Well then, my lady.”

Alexion pulled Ino’s hand, which he had been holding. As his lips brushed briefly against the back of her hand and then lifted away, a slight tension formed between her brows—so subtle no one would notice.

“Don’t go wandering off. Stand by the wall and enjoy the view of the hall for a bit. I’ll be back soon.”

He didn’t want her hearing business discussions, nor did he want her freely interacting with others. All he wanted from the beautiful trophy of House Rutland was obedience.

“Have a good meeting.”

Ino spoke the parting words in a soft voice, but Alexion didn’t respond. He disappeared from the hall with Count Swan moments later.

“……”

Left alone, Ino took up a spot along the edge of the hall as Alexion had instructed. Many glanced her way, but unlike earlier, she wore a composed expression, as though completely unaware of the stares.

After seven years, even solitude becomes familiar—especially when no one dares to cross the invisible line drawn around her. Once, when she was the only daughter of a grand ducal house, everyone scrambled for a chance to speak with her. But as soon as the paranoid emperor branded the Duke and Duchess of Lartan as traitors, they all turned their backs.

Instead of the murmurs around her, Ino tried to focus on the sound of the violins being played by the orchestra. Naturally, it brought to mind her younger brother, who loved the violin.

‘Henry.’

It had already been three years since she last saw the face of her only remaining family. Alexion had paid the tuition to send Henry to a boarding school specializing in music—but in return, he had forbidden the siblings from seeing each other.

“From now on, I’m the only man allowed near you.”

The fact that Alexion categorized her brother as a man in that sense disgusted Ino, but even so, she had no choice but to obey. The moment she accepted Alexion’s proposal, their relationship had been set in stone.

“Oh my, look over there!”

At that moment, even Ino, who had been focusing all her attention on the violin music, heard a voice so shrill and loud that it was impossible to ignore.

“Kieran Lennox, is it?”

“I didn’t know he’d be attending today’s event. Isn’t he too busy with business to show up often?”

People nearby started whispering to one another. From the sound of it, Ino was the only person in the ballroom who didn’t know who he was.

“What good is knowing what’s going on outside if you’re locked up at home all the time?”

That was Alexion’s usual sneer. It had been quite some time since Ino had read a newspaper.

“Well, he’s the wealthiest bachelor in the Empire. Of course he’s busy. Every invitation from high society must be aimed at him. We should be grateful he chose this event, shouldn’t we, Miss Laura?”

“Well, I also get more invitations than I can read,” the young woman replied, belatedly trying to sound aloof—but she couldn’t quite hide the excitement in her voice.

‘Judging by the unfamiliar name, he must be someone who made his fortune in the past few years,’ Ino thought, dismissing the chatter. In a society where judging others from behind a mask was as natural as breathing, she was curious who could stir such visible reactions. She casually turned her head toward where everyone was looking.

“……”

There stood a man who seemed to have just arrived.

The first thing to catch the eye was his height, broad shoulders, and long legs. His body, neither too slender nor too bulky, was hidden beneath a perfectly tailored suit, but with every step, the movement of firm muscles beneath the fabric was unmistakable.

‘Like a finely honed sword…’

It was hard to define precisely, but it was true. Despite his tall and solid frame, he didn’t look heavy or sluggish—he had a sharpness about him, as if he were hiding something dangerous and deadly.

Was it because of those eyes?

Ino wondered. His sharply chiseled jawline and the lips set in a neutral, restrained expression gave an impression of self-discipline. His high nose and prominent brow bones gave him a commanding presence.

But what truly held one’s gaze were his eyes. A mix of gray and green, they didn’t carry the dullness often associated with lighter-colored irises, but rather a sharp clarity. There was something about those eyes that made it hard to look away.

“……?”

Ino had the brief impression that the man, while politely bowing to those around him, had glanced her way. But she quickly dismissed it as her imagination.

Soon losing interest, she lowered her gaze again and focused on the sound of the violin. Because of that, she didn’t realize that all the murmuring around her was about the man now approaching her.

“Duchess of Rutland.”

“……!”

The unexpected address made Ino lift her head. Though surprised, she maintained a composed and graceful expression—an instinct drilled into her during her years as a grand duchess.

The man who had captured everyone’s attention was standing before her. Up close, his features were aesthetically beautiful yet vividly alive. His slightly rough and dry demeanor, layered with a polite smile, created a contrast that was oddly compelling.

“So we meet at last,” he said.

“I’m Kieran Lennox.”

His voice was deep and elegant as he introduced himself.

‘At last?’

Ino wondered if there had ever been any connection between them, however small. But the surname Lennox was unfamiliar to her.

If he had been invited to this party, he was either part of the gentry or a newly titled noble. And yet, his noble bearing was flawless, as though blue blood had been flowing in his veins since birth.

“I’m Ino Clowen.”

Ino finally responded. He had greeted her—it was only proper she returned the courtesy.

It was an era where the rise of wealthy commoners had blurred class distinctions. The etiquette of waiting for a high-ranking noble to speak first was now seen as outdated and archaic. And for Ino Clowen, who was nothing more than the “medal” of House Rutland, such etiquette wasn’t even worth adhering to.

“Pardon me, but aren’t you married to His Grace, the Duke of Rutland?”

Kieran Lennox asked. Since she had married Alexion Rutland, it would have been proper for her to introduce herself as Ino Rutland—so why had she introduced herself as Ino Clowen?

‘Is he really asking because he doesn’t know?’

Even in the fast-moving world of high society, the marriage between Ino Clowen and Alexion Rutland had been a major topic of gossip for months. Everything from their engagement gifts to the prenuptial contract had been splashed across the newspapers.

“If that was an odd question, I ask your understanding. I’ve been living abroad for nearly ten years for business.”

As if reading her mind, Kieran offered an explanation.

‘Well, the marriage was seven years ago now.’

If he was new to the social scene in Hilaischt, it was possible he didn’t know the details. With that in mind, Ino finally opened her mouth.

“There are only two members of the Clowen family left. To preserve the family name, I chose to keep using it. Thankfully… my husband was understanding.”

Calmly, Ino explained a portion of their prenuptial agreement. The word “thankfully” didn’t come easily to her lips, but she managed to say it nonetheless.

“I see.”

Kieran gave a slight nod. His brief exclamation was just the right amount of socially appropriate.

“Then… Mr. Lennox, was there something you wanted to speak to me about?”

Ino politely inquired about his reason for approaching her. Unlike Kieran, she was not in a position to casually engage in social interaction. Alexion deeply disliked her speaking with others—especially men.

‘If Alexion were to see this right now…’

He wouldn’t care about context. He would immediately start criticizing her. When he threatened her using her younger brother’s tuition or allowance, she had no choice but to endure the humiliation and appease him.

“Nothing in particular. You just seemed immersed in the violin performance, so I wanted to start a conversation.”

Kieran gave a slight shrug. Even such a simple gesture didn’t look casual when he did it.

“I enjoy the music.”

Ino gave a short, clipped response. She thought that if she showed no interest in continuing the conversation, he would get the message and walk away.

“I like music as well. That’s why I’ve been supporting the Belfort School of Arts.”

Ino, who had deliberately been avoiding his gaze, froze at the words ‘Belfort School of Arts’ and looked up at him.

“You know of the Belfort School?”

Noticing her reaction, Kieran asked. His voice was low and quiet, but it slipped through the background chatter and reached her ears clearly.

“Yes… My younger brother attends that school.”

Ino clasped her hands together at the unexpected connection. Kieran didn’t miss how her thin fingers turned pale from the pressure.

“Clowen, now that you mention it—I think I’ve heard the name before,” Kieran continued.

“There was a student who performed at the ‘Patron’s Night’ event hosted by the Belfort School. I believe the name was Clowen.”

“Is that so.”

Ino responded automatically. She had had no way of knowing how her brother was doing, so to hear even that small news stirred a strange happiness in her—but she didn’t let it show.

“Do you keep in touch with your brother?”

Perhaps curious about her indifferent reaction, Kieran asked again. The straight line of his left eyebrow lifted ever so slightly.

“He’s family. Of course I do.”

A smooth lie. Even though she thought she had fooled him, meeting those sharp green-gray eyes made her stomach twist with discomfort.

“If all you wanted was to exchange greetings, then that should suffice. I’ll take my leave.”

Ino turned away. A foolish thought crossed her mind—that he might reach out and grab her by the nape of her neck—but fortunately, he did not stop her.

She stepped away and made her way to the terrace. To signal that she didn’t wish to be disturbed, she wrapped the curtain cord around the terrace door handle.

Autumn in Hilaischt, the imperial capital, was marked by wide temperature swings. During the day, with the sun up, it could feel fairly warm, but once the sun set, the chill in the air became sharp and relentless.

But Ino barely noticed the cold—even in the dead of winter.

‘I used to be so sensitive to the cold,’ she thought.

That had changed after the catastrophe seven years ago. Since then, everything had dulled—her emotions had grown shallow, and her senses had become numb.

If Alexion were to return and find her out here straining herself in this kind of weather, he would no doubt click his tongue and call her foolish. Still, Ino continued with these small rebellions.

Yes, they were rebellions.

“You must be quite resistant to the cold.”

As she looked out over the terrace, a voice from behind made her close her eyes deeply and reopen them. It was the voice she had heard earlier.

“…I suppose no one’s taught you the manners of the social scene.”

‘Mr. Lennox.’

She added his name pointedly, as if to criticize him for ignoring the curtain tie on the terrace door—a clear sign she didn’t wish to be disturbed—but Kieran’s relaxed expression remained unchanged.

“Uneducated as I am, I keep making mistakes.”

He replied without a trace of shame and walked toward her.

“When a man and woman are alone together in a dark place, it can lead to misunderstandings.”

“What kind of misunderstanding? That we’d entangle ourselves right here in such a public space?”

His words were blunt. Ino tried to step back, but the terrace railing behind her blocked her retreat.

“You’re not thinking of throwing yourself over the railing just to avoid me, are you?”

Kieran smiled. It was the kind of smile that only tugged at the corners of his mouth—one that wore the mask of charm but was, unmistakably, deceit. Ino recognized it immediately.

“Better that than letting my guard down around a scoundrel and winding up hurt.”

“Hmm. Which would really be worse, I wonder?”

With that rhetorical question, he grabbed her hand in an instant.

“Mr. Lennox!”

Ino’s voice broke out, filled with both alarm and warning. Though they weren’t skin to skin thanks to his gloves, the heat of his large hand was clearly felt through the thin fabric.

“You’re hurt—right here.”

Kieran lifted her hand to his eye level. On her slender wrist, where the bracelet had dug in, red marks and bruised skin were clearly visible beneath the surface.