Chapter 2. After the Proposal

As Serenia stood frozen, unable to respond, the men surrounding her eagerly chimed in one after another.

“A title earned by sheer luck from a common knight’s merit? Who would ever covet such a thing?”

“No history, no honor, and no wealth either. Didn’t she blow what little money she had on hospital bills? All that’s left is debt.”

Serenia clenched her fists tightly, her teeth grinding in silent frustration.

“Well, I suppose there’s one advantage—the wife would be easy on the eyes.”

“Ah, but you’re mistaken, my friend. Beauty isn’t for wives; it’s something you find in the brothels.”

“Hah. Speaking of which, Lady Serenia, I’d be quite interested in a… delightful evening together.”

“Count me in too!”

When the men began brazenly discussing who would go first, Serenia finally realized her place here.

She was nothing more than a laughingstock, a toy for their amusement, or at best, a target for a one-night conquest.

The bitter thought pierced her—she had spent every last coin she had to repair a dress and rent a carriage, all for this.

‘That money could’ve lasted me three months,’ she thought bitterly.

Swallowing the lump of shame welling up inside, Serenia bit her lips hard and lowered her gaze.

From the second-floor balcony overlooking the scene, a man watched it all unfold, his face cold and twisted into a derisive smirk.

“A foolish mistake, Serenia,” he muttered, his voice low and grating.

The shadows cast by his fiery red hair made the cold gleam in his dark eyes all the more foreboding.

For a long moment, he stood, his expression hard and unforgiving, before finally pushing himself away from the railing.

“Mistakes always come with consequences. Don’t they, Serenia?”

With those words, he began descending the staircase, his crimson cloak trailing behind him. The cloak, embroidered with the black helmet flower—the symbol of the Archducal House of Admancanon—fluttered ominously in his wake.

Tap. Tap.

The deliberate echo of his steps drew every gaze in the ballroom to the staircase.

The people downstairs froze, their eyes wide with shock. After all, Raskal Admancanon, infamous for spending every party sulking alone on a balcony, was making an appearance in the main hall!

But Raskal paid no attention to their astonishment. With a purposeful stride, he descended, cutting through the center of the ballroom where couples danced to the waltz. His presence alone was enough to clear his path.

Men hastily pulled their partners out of his way, and conversations halted mid-sentence as people scattered like startled birds.

It was only natural.

No one present was ignorant of the unspoken rule: crossing paths with the Duke of Admancanon in any capacity often led to ruin—or worse.

Unimpeded, Raskal reached his destination.

Standing before her was Serenia, her midnight-blue hair cascading down her back without a single ornament, her pale blue eyes wide with surprise.

The men who had been mocking her moments ago recoiled, their smirks wiped clean, retreating in alarm.

An eerie silence blanketed the hall, broken only by the weight of his arrival. The waltz had long since faded away, leaving nothing but the suffocating tension.

Raskal’s voice finally cut through the stillness, cold and commanding.

“Serenia Barishart.”

A voice, chillingly low, echoed through the ballroom, sending shivers down spines.

Everyone, including Serenia, held their breath, waiting for his next words.

With a twisted smile curling his lips, Raskal spoke again.

“Marry me.”

Crash—

Somewhere in the distance, a wine glass slipped from someone’s hand, shattering on the floor. Gasps rippled through the room like waves.

‘Marriage? Raskal Admancanon proposing to Serenia Barishart?’

Whispers erupted among the onlookers, each person turning to their neighbor in shock and confusion. The air buzzed with disbelief.

Despite the growing noise around them, Raskal’s gaze never left Serenia. It was as though he couldn’t afford to miss the way her blue eyes trembled in shock and humiliation.

The sight was oddly satisfying. The once unyielding gaze that had endured vulgar taunts now clouded with mortification and resentment—all from a single sentence. It was a scene worth savoring.

But soon, the trembling stopped. The sound of teeth grinding echoed faintly as her expression hardened. Her vivid blue eyes burned fiercely with defiance, cutting through her humiliation.

Raskal found it troublesome yet amusing. She always seemed about to crumble, only to sharpen her thorns at the last moment.

Of course, those thorns posed no real threat to him.

‘It’s better to eliminate anything that could get in the way, no matter how insignificant it might seem—even if it’s no more than a useless fishbone,’ he thought.

Staring straight into her blazing eyes, Raskal smirked and asked mockingly, “Did you not hear me? Why aren’t you answering?”

When she still didn’t respond, his voice grew sharper. “If you didn’t catch it, I’ll say it again. Marry me.”

As she remained silent, he let out a dry laugh. “Ah, perhaps you don’t understand what the word ‘marriage’ means?”

Even with his blatant derision, Serenia remained tight-lipped. She bit hard on the inside of her cheek, her face burning with humiliation.

Looking down at her coldly, Raskal spoke again, his tone dripping with mockery. “Let me put it simply. I’m offering to make you my woman. Does that make it clearer?”

The audacity of his words sent another ripple of gasps through the crowd.

It sounded like something a thug from the slums might say, not the Duke of Admancanon. The onlookers flinched, shocked by his brazenness.

Yet Raskal stood unperturbed, his calm demeanor unwavering. The shame, it seemed, was Serenia’s burden alone.

Her face turned crimson, and she bit down harder on her cheek as her hands balled into fists at her sides.

Finally, the spectators began to understand—this was no genuine proposal. Relief swept through them as they whispered among themselves.

‘Of course, it’s not real. It never could be.’

They exchanged smirks, their laughter barely concealed. ‘The Duke is merely humiliating Serenia Barishart, the so-called Countess and daughter of his enemy.’

To everyone present, Raskal’s actions were perfectly logical. After all, the animosity between the Barishart and Admancanon families was infamous, known even in foreign lands.

Fourteen years ago, Count Barishart had deserted his post during the war, leading to the death of Raskal’s father, the late Duke of Admancanon. Raskal, then a young man, had been forced to claw his way through a battlefield turned into a living nightmare.

So when Count Barishart collapsed eight years ago, coughing up blood, it seemed obvious to everyone: Raskal Admancanon had avenged his father.

Though no evidence was ever found, the suspicion lingered. After all, the Admancanon family had always been renowned for their expertise in poisons.

Serenia forced herself to take a deep, shuddering breath, clinging to her waning composure. The buzzing whispers of the crowd filled her ears, threatening to drown her thoughts.

‘What should I say? Should I shamelessly accept? Or cling to this ridiculous pride of mine?’

She clenched her eyes shut. ‘I wonder if this is how a monkey in a zoo feels.’

Summoning every ounce of her courage, Serenia squeezed out a response.

“I refuse.”

Even with her eyes closed, she could vividly picture the expressions of the people around her. Smirking eyes, mocking grins stretching wide, and cruel words slipping through their teeth.

‘So proud of herself for nothing.’

‘What an idiot. Pride doesn’t put food on the table.’

The weight of all the humiliation crushed her, and Serenia clenched her eyes shut even tighter, as if to block it all out.

“Well now, it seems there’s been a misunderstanding,” came Raskal’s indifferent voice, cutting through the tension.

Startled, Serenia’s eyes flew open.

Looking directly at her, Raskal added with a faint smirk.

“I never said you had a choice.”

“…What?” she stammered, her voice barely audible.

Watching her reaction, Raskal spoke again, almost to himself.

“I told you to marry me. I didn’t ask if you ‘would’ marry me.”

The unsettling turn of his words made the crowd, already on edge, perk up their ears once more, their gazes shifting between the two with growing intrigue.

Unbothered by the blatant scrutiny of the audience, Raskal continued in the same calm, calculated tone, “Alright. It seems I’ve caused some confusion. Let me rephrase.”

“Rephrase…?”

Serenia echoed weakly.

“Repay your debt.”

‘Debt?’

Serenia’s wide eyes silently questioned him, her confusion written all over her face.

Raskal’s next words were deliberate, each syllable cutting through the air like a blade.

“The debt of saving Count Barishart’s life. You’ll repay it—with your body.”

Those words struck like a thunderclap, shattering what little composure Serenia had left. The fragile thread of reason she’d been clinging to snapped.

Her mind blanked, and her body moved instinctively.

Smack!

Her hand flew across Raskal’s face, the sharp sound of the slap echoing through the deathly quiet hall.