‘Is there anything you like, Callas?’
Sophia asked suddenly.
She thought she should at least know something about the man she was going to marry.
‘I like people. I enjoy talking with them, and especially, I love dancing. It feels like everyone becomes gentler and happier then. My mother says no one enjoys social events as much as I do. All we do there is dance and chat, after all.’
‘Oh dear. I guess I’ve taken away your fun then. Sorry about that.’
‘Don’t tease me.’
He let out a soft laugh. Sophia thought it wasn’t so hard to talk with him like this, but she still didn’t understand why he sometimes scared her. She continued.
‘Still, I suppose being the duke’s fiancée is better than just dancing around. You must think I’m pathetic for mixing up means and ends.’
‘Sophia, you tend to hear even the things I don’t say.’
‘But it’s true. I still don’t think I match you, Your Grace. You probably didn’t even know I existed until that night… before everything happened.’
Sophia lifted her chin and spoke boldly. His blue eyes looking down at her were half-lidded, his expression unreadable.
Then, he stepped closer. Standing behind her, he leaned over and placed his hand on the piano.
With that simple movement, she found herself trapped in his arms. Her face turned bright red, and she shrank back, hoping not to touch him.
But with the small space between them gone, his presence felt overwhelming.
She could hear his faint breathing. His elegant fingers pressed gently on the piano keys.
For someone who once said dissonant chords and harmonies sounded the same, he played beautifully—too skilled, too graceful.
‘This is the song that played when you first debuted in society, right? Your first dance was with your brother, Felix Hilden. Then the second son of the Sandel family. Even the eldest son asked for a dance. I could list all the names of the people you danced with these past two years, but I won’t. You’d be scared.’
‘How do you even…’
‘I just want you to know that I was always interested in you. But someone in my position can’t act on feelings so easily. That’s why I pretended not to know you.’
Her hand still rested awkwardly on the piano. To press a certain note, the duke laid his hand over hers and pushed her finger down.
It was a simple touch, but Sophia flinched.
Her small hand was almost entirely covered by his. She felt his warmth and firm bones on her skin.
His words felt almost unreal, but the mix of what he said and the small touches slowly melted her reason.
‘I…’
Just knowing he was standing behind her sent shivers down her spine. He might be looking at the nape of her neck, which she had always felt confident about.
She suddenly wanted to cover her collarbones and gently curved chest under her square-cut neckline.
‘And when I said I ruined your fun, I meant it sincerely. You love dancing, don’t you? You shine the most when you dance. Everyone always watches you when you glide across the floor. You know that, don’t you?’
Sophia pulled her hand away from the piano and clenched it into a fist. Her face was bright red, like she would burn up if someone touched her.
She wasn’t just a new girl in society anymore—two years had passed—but still, she felt completely overwhelmed by his words.
Truthfully, she had heard even greater compliments before. Many people had confessed to her.
But the way his hands brushed hers, how his body loomed behind her, all made her dizzy despite his calm tone.
Choking back her nervousness, she finally said,
‘Then… maybe Your Grace should dance with me a lot.’
She had wanted to say it playfully, like people often do at social events, but it came out too quietly—almost like a plea.
The duke finished his short tune, stood up, and gently placed his hand on her shoulder before pulling away.
‘Call me Callas, Sophia. You’ve done well until now.’
Then, leaving only those words behind, he kissed the top of her head and walked away, as if he’d finished his business.
Looking back, it was all just a show. Sophia realized that now.
His smooth words. The well-timed touches meant to distract her.
It was no different from how he talked about poetry for her mother, politics for her father, or history for Felix. With her, he just picked the right topic.
She didn’t know why, but Sophia was sure of one thing—he didn’t love her.
But she couldn’t say that out loud.
“So, what do you think of the duke?”
Solid asked when they were alone. Sophia hesitated.
“I don’t know,” she wanted to say. She wanted to pour out her confusion: “I have no idea how this engagement even happened.” But she had not seen Solid for over five months, so she said nothing.
“He’s kind.”
Besides, she had already decided to go through with this engagement.
“He gets along with my family. And my family likes him too.”
She replied awkwardly. Solid mistook her hesitation for shyness and smiled warmly.
“Well, they said the duke kept coming to your house while you were asleep, taking care of you. Even in the capital, it was a big topic. They said all the good doctors disappeared after the duke took you away. Some people joked it was better to get sick near your estate than in the capital.”
“Really?”
Her family and the duke had never mentioned those rumors to protect her, so hearing it from Solid, an outsider, felt new. She was a bit surprised that the duke did so much. But it didn’t deeply move her. The five months she spent asleep still felt like something that had happened to someone else.
“People must think it’s strange… me being engaged to the duke.”
“Don’t worry, Sophia. Everyone thinks it’s a romantic story.”
“Me drinking poison?”
Sophia gave a bitter smile. Solid pulled her in and kissed her cheek.
“No, Sophia. The part where you woke up and got engaged to the duke.”
That night, Sophia dreamed of the duke for the first time.
He was the first thing she saw in her dream.
The duke stood high on a platform. With one arm resting lazily, he looked bored, as if waiting for something.
[Sophia.]
He called her name, startling her.
How did he know she was there? But he wasn’t looking at where she stood.
Sophia turned her head to see what he was looking at—and found herself far below him, climbing a long staircase.
She was barefoot, wearing a white, nearly transparent nightgown.
‘What is going on?’
She frowned at the strange dream. Somehow, she knew this was a dream.
Her ghost-like, pale self-climbed the stairs with an empty expression, like something had been lost.
It was a strange feeling, seeing herself not through a mirror, but from a third-person view.
Sophia stepped closer to her dream-self. As she gently raised a hand to her cheek, the view suddenly flipped.
Now, she stood before the stairs. Her body wouldn’t move as she wanted. She kept climbing, not tired at all, as if something was pulling her forward.
The loss of control brought fear. It was terrifying to move without any will.
She tried to grab her legs to stop them, but her body moved like it belonged to someone else—strong-willed and unrelenting.
[You’re slow.]
The duke spoke from the platform. His voice sounded like it came from the sky.
When he gestured impatiently, her body was pulled up in an instant. He stood, grabbed her wrist, and caught her in his arms.
Her body dangled like a puppet. Empty, lifeless.
[Sophia, I’ve never met anyone as lazy and greedy as you. I’ve been patient for so long, and yet you’re still like this.]
He scolded her.
His grip hurt, but she couldn’t even say so. Her throat was tight, and her body felt as if every muscle had been cut.
The duke didn’t expect her to respond either. He tossed her aside onto the cold platform and returned to his chair.
[Damn it.]
He cursed under his breath.
It was the first time she’d heard his voice so emotional.
Agitated, the duke ran a hand through his hair.
