Meanwhile, the countess seemed to have other worries. When Sophia was just about to head to the study to talk with the count about how they would divide the carriages, she overheard the countess’s anxious voice through the slightly open door.
“Dear, do you think the emperor disapproves of us?”
At those words, Sophia stopped in her tracks without even realizing it.
“What are you talking about now?”
“I’m honestly worried. We both know Sophia doesn’t really match the duke. If things hadn’t turned out the way they did, it would’ve been unthinkable for the duke to be Sophia’s match. If even we think this way, how much more would the emperor, who’s so fond of the duke? I heard he once openly said he’d make his third daughter, Princess Yulicias, the duchess.”
“But Princess Yulicias hasn’t even debuted in society yet. And that kind of talk was from a long time ago. Why bring it up now?”
“That letter… the one the emperor sent directly to the duke. It’s been bothering me. The duke said the emperor sent an orchestra for Sophia, but later I saw that the letter said it was to keep her entertained, since life here must be boring.”
“Did the emperor really write that?”
“Yes. The duke left the letter out, and a servant brought it. I happened to catch a glimpse—I couldn’t help but read the words.”
“That’s hard to believe. He didn’t show any signs of that when he approved the engagement…”
As usual when lost in thought, the count let out a deep sigh. Sophia felt her face burn with shame at the fact that her mother had peeked at someone else’s letter. But she couldn’t say she didn’t understand why her mother did it. The countess spoke again, her voice full of worry.
“If the emperor is planning to break this engagement and have the duke marry the princess instead…”
“That’s too much worrying. The duke wouldn’t let that happen.”
“But the duke hasn’t clearly expressed his intentions either. What if he proposed to Sophia out of guilt? If he doesn’t truly care for her and is just doing this out of duty, the engagement could easily fall apart over a small problem. And Sophia, that girl, doesn’t even understand what’s happening and keeps delaying the engagement because she’s confused. The duke doesn’t seem to be in a hurry either.”
“It’s better to talk to Sophia first. Let’s give it a little time, and then you should talk to her.”
“…Alright. I understand for now.”
As the countess started to rise, Sophia quickly turned around and returned to her room. Her mind was spinning with the things she had overheard. She had been trying to ignore the fact that she was engaged to a duke trusted by the emperor and that anyone engaged to the duke would become the center of attention and judgment in society. But now, hearing this made her feel even more anxious.
And what if—what if the duke really abandoned her?
If the engagement vanished like it had never happened, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. But if it ended in the messy, vague way most engagements did, Sophia would be the one most hurt by it.
That truth finally hit her. Sophia stood still, clenching her fists for a moment, then lifted her chin gracefully as if nothing had happened and walked out.
She had only ever been to the opera house in the cold of winter, so going there now, riding in a carriage on a breezy spring day, felt unfamiliar.
Normally, going to the theater meant being wrapped in a thick fur coat, half-buried, raising her head to find her seat among a sea of people, waving at familiar faces with a bright smile, and chatting quietly about society news until the performance began.
But today was different from all her past experiences. The warm air felt a bit stuffy. The beautiful duke sat with one leg crossed, leaning back casually, watching a stage that was not even half the size of those in the capital. The theater was empty except for her family. Dancers filled the small stage. Some musicians even played in the hallways.
It was a performance she normally liked—a story about how the witch Hetan came to possess divine powers and magic—but Sophia’s face remained stiff the entire time. The small theater that couldn’t even properly hold the dancers and orchestra felt like a symbol of the difference between her and the duke.
To make it worse, the story reminded her of the dream she had the night before. The tragic face of Hetan upon hearing that her lover, Oresse, had died while fleeing with another woman. Sophia thought to herself:
‘If the Sophia in that dream had died while running away with that man, would the duke have made that same expression?’
Inside her pale green gloves embroidered with gold thread, Sophia’s fingers moved awkwardly. It felt too uncomfortable—like Oresse was herself, and Hetan was the duke.
Maybe the duke sensed her discomfort, because he spoke to her.
“You don’t like Hetan? It’s about how a witch gains her powers. I thought young women loved that kind of story.”
She did like it. But now, because of that dream, she couldn’t bear it. Sophia lifted her chin and replied.
“Every time I see this play, I think it’s too focused on Hetan.”
“Really?”
“Yes. We don’t even know what Oresse’s situation was. Hetan’s the only one acting like it was a betrayal.”
The duke laughed, as if it was ridiculous.
“What are you talking about? He died while running off with another woman. How is that not betrayal?”
That voice felt like a stab to her chest. But Sophia lifted her chin even higher and replied boldly.
“It could be betrayal. But no one knows why he was with that woman.”
“She was a princess. Probably beautiful. Men are simpler than you think, Sophia. They say your dancing is beautiful, your wit is clever, your intelligence is attractive—but really, they propose just because your face is pretty.”
His words stung. Now, her mother’s voice from earlier echoed in her mind.
‘I heard the emperor even said he’d make Princess Yulicias the duchess.’
“Then if a more beautiful woman appears, your feelings change?”
Sophia barely managed to ask before her sulky mood fully showed. But the duke, clueless as ever, calmly answered,
“It’d be a lie to say no.”
“You too, Your Grace?”
At that, his words stopped. Sophia was still thinking of Princess Yulicias.
The emperor’s most beloved daughter. Beautiful, talented, perfect at everything. If it had been her, she would have smiled without surprise when she heard the prestigious Atheunita Orchestra was visiting.
Her thoughts must’ve been showing on her face. The duke glanced at her and said with a smirk,
“I like it when you ask questions like that. I can tell you hope I won’t say yes. You sound like a kid asking if their mom or dad loves them.”
Sophia blushed. She didn’t think her feelings were that obvious. At the same time, she wanted to demand a clear answer. Ask if he really would abandon her for Princess Yulicias.
But she acted like she didn’t care.
“I was just asking. There’s no hidden meaning.”
She clenched her fists and answered as calmly as she could. The duke gave a short, indifferent laugh.
‘That annoying man.’
Sophia held her breath to avoid showing how upset she was. But the duke’s sharp ears seemed to catch everything. When she finally let out her breath all at once, he even let out a quiet laugh.
Sophia faked a cough.
“Ahem. Anyway, I don’t think we should say Oresse betrayed Hetan just like that. Maybe he had a reason he couldn’t tell anyone. You’ll just say it’s a naïve thought again, but sometimes people are forced to do things—even when they love someone.”
“Like running away with another woman?”
The duke sneered, but Sophia didn’t back down.
“Yes. Even if it means being misunderstood, maybe he had no other choice. I mean, think about how devoted Oresse was to Hetan. Even when she turned his sailors into snakes, he didn’t lash out at her—he tried to talk to her.”
“That’s just being naïve. Why else would he act that way? He was afraid she’d turn him into a snake too.”
“Maybe at first. But as they talked, he became more relaxed. He started to understand her. That’s how love began. Love that overcomes hardships doesn’t break easily. You can’t judge someone for one mistake or misunderstanding.”
Sophia didn’t even know what she was defending anymore, but she kept going passionately. In the dream, ‘Sophia’ had truly loved the other man—not the duke.
The duke listened with one ear and let it go out the other, as if he didn’t know what dream she was talking about.
Sophia looked at him and thought, Even if I really left him for someone else, would he still look at me like this? Like he didn’t care?
And then he’d choose a more mature woman. Unlike me.
Her lips pouted in frustration.
