Something had clearly happened.
Baldwin stared at the small groups of people sneaking glances at Anais.
He had a good idea of how those so-called high-ranking nobles had exposed their lowest selves.
Baldwin, more than anyone, was familiar with their base, despicable nature.
There were even those who insulted him directly to his face—
after all, Baldwin couldn’t hear, so they used that excuse.
Baldwin began walking toward Anais.
People’s eyes followed his movement, but there was not a trace of hesitation in his stride.
If he was just going to leave her sitting there with that exhausted expression, he wouldn’t have invited her at all.
Baldwin sat at Anais’s table.
“Ah, Your Grace the Duke.”
Anais instinctively smiled at him.
But it was a mechanical smile—devoid of joy.
Baldwin frowned slightly and moved his hand to write.
[You don’t look like you’re enjoying yourself.]
Anais widened her eyes in surprise.
She hadn’t expected him to say something like that with such a serious expression.
“The same could be said for you, Your Grace. This is your banquet, after all. Shouldn’t you be enjoying it?”
Baldwin gave a faint, smile-like stretch of his lips.
[People who insult and mock me behind my back come to flatter me to my face.
Those who create rumors and try to ruin me completely.
How could I enjoy this?]
Anais’s face briefly showed surprise, then softened into a faint smile.
“I’m surprised… to think you and I have something in common.
I thought I was the only one who wasn’t enjoying tonight.”
She let out a sigh and added, a bit embarrassed:
“I didn’t want to show you such an unsightly side of me.
But life never goes the way we want, does it?”
She always seemed to show Baldwin her worst sides.
One would think she’d be used to it by now—yet Anais still felt ashamed.
[That’s probably true for me as well.]
Baldwin flipped a page of his notebook and wrote again:
[Have you had your first dance yet?]
Anais turned her gaze toward the dance floor.
Couples were already waltzing across the space.
The room, adorned with flowers fit for the spring banquet, seemed to bloom with their movements.
The swaying hems of dresses looked like petals in full bloom.
Anais gave a bitter smile.
The men who approached her had been full of hidden motives.
The noblewomen and daughters gave her cutting looks,
and the “gentlemen” devoured her with their eyes.
She shook her head.
[Perfect. I haven’t had mine either.]
Baldwin’s writing grew firmer with purpose.
[It may be a bit late for a first dance,
and I’m not particularly skilled at dancing—
since I can’t hear the rhythm.
But if you don’t mind, Lady Anais…]
Baldwin extended his hand to Anais.
Even without seeing the rest of his message, she could already guess what he was trying to say.
‘Would you care to dance?’
She could imagine the quiet voice that would have accompanied it—
a voice fitting for Baldwin: steady, firm, like an ancient, towering tree…
“Yes, I’d love to.”
That spring, Anais became the star of the banquet.
Regardless of what emotions lay behind their gazes, everyone was focused on her.
When Anais took Baldwin’s hand and danced, the entire hall let out a gasp.
She became the only woman to ever make the Duke, who never danced, take the floor.
Because of that, even after the spring banquet ended, Anais remained the subject of constant whispers.
Elsewhere – Gwendoline’s Perspective
Gwendoline gritted her teeth as she recalled the spring banquet.
She had been uneasy ever since Baldwin unexpectedly invited Anais.
Baldwin doesn’t dance. And yet, he broke that unspoken rule.
A business reason? Graham Bank?
“Nonsense! If it were business, they would’ve met at the office!”
Gwendoline slammed her hairbrush down onto the vanity.
Her breath came out in frustration, causing her maids to retreat nervously.
She glared at her reflection, her mind replaying the banquet.
“No way… Is that woman aiming for Baldwin’s side?”
Even after hearing all the rumors about Baldwin?
“Impossible.”
She muttered to herself.
Among the nobility, one of the most sacred values was the inheritance of wealth and titles.
Yet Baldwin’s condition made him incapable of fulfilling that duty.
That, in their society, was a major flaw.
And if Baldwin’s deafness and muteness were hereditary?
He couldn’t produce a healthy heir—couldn’t carry on the family line.
That was precisely why Baldwin remained unmarried and without a fiancée.
It was also why Gwendoline hadn’t claimed the tempting prize that was Baldwin.
But deep down, she believed she alone could “save” Baldwin.
She had been his friend for years—
the only one who had remained by his side through everything.
Gwendoline was patiently calculating…
Waiting for the scales between her and Baldwin to finally balance out.
Her current fiancé?
Just a necessary piece in the process.
Baldwin had so many “flaws” that even if Gwendoline were to marry and then divorce once, the math still worked out.
She intended to have a child with Baldwin—give that child his name, and remarry him afterward.
And that child would be hers alone.
That’s why she had deliberately chosen a foreign fiancé—
so that after the divorce, he wouldn’t cause problems.
Gwendoline anxiously bit her thumbnail.
“I had everything prepared. So why…!”
Her wedding was fast approaching.
Within three years, at most, she planned to give Baldwin an heir and become his perfect wife.
But that woman was ruining her perfectly laid-out plan.
How did she manage to get close to Baldwin?
Did they have some kind of connection back in the academy?
“Using Graham Bank as an excuse?”
It was likely she approached him under the pretense of business—that made the most sense.
Gwendoline’s eyes gleamed with malice.
She shamelessly seized her ex-husband’s wealth… Now she’s aiming for Constantine, no doubt.
Surely Baldwin had sensed this too. He was a smart man—he couldn’t be oblivious.
There was no way someone like her would bring ruin to Constantine.
Does the Dowager Duchess know about this?
The Dowager Duchess of Constantine cared deeply about the ducal house more than anyone.
If she didn’t yet know, she had to be informed. Her long journey would soon be ending.
Gwendoline decided she would hasten the Duchess’s return.
“Bring me pen and stationery—the most expensive set!”
The Dowager Duchess liked to be treated and respected according to her lofty status.
So she always used only the best.
Gwendoline knew her tastes thoroughly.
There’s no one more suited to stand beside Baldwin than me.
She gritted her teeth.
That clueless Anais will soon find that out.
Sophia returned to the hotel with both hands full of shopping bags, accompanied by attendants.
“Take good care of all this. I need to bring it back to the estate.”
“Whoa! Mom, what did you buy so much for?”
Chris’s eyes widened. Sophia blinked her heavily made-up eyes and smiled.
With her bold makeup, thickly styled hair, luxurious dress, and jewelry, she looked completely transformed.
She patted Chris on the head.
“Because I’m going to be the Marchioness now! I need to be ready for that.
Preparing the wedding alone means there’s a lot to take care of.”
She grumbled.
“What about your father?”
“Drinking all day, as usual. Don’t I get anything, Mom?”
Chris asked while peeking around the many boxes filling the hotel suite.
Sophia didn’t respond. Instead, her wavering gaze turned toward Egbert’s room.
Since the public humiliation at the hotel restaurant, Egbert had drowned himself in alcohol.
Neither Sophia nor Egbert had spoken of that incident since—it was a silent agreement, like an unspoken rule.
Sophia feared all that she had gained might be shattered.
Egbert was simply ashamed of what had happened that day.
“He used to hate that woman.”
So why is he acting so clingy now?
No, stop thinking nonsense, Sophia.
She was so close. One more step and everything she wanted would be hers.
She couldn’t afford to retreat now, not this close to the summit.
She and Egbert had never had serious talks about marriage or the future,
but right now, Sophia was the only one by Egbert’s side.
And she would make sure it stayed that way.
“Hurry and organize this stuff. Hmm, would this dress be better for the wedding? Or maybe this one?”
Sophia lost herself in a blissful fantasy.
Egbert and Anais had once held a grand wedding at a cathedral.
It was said the late Marquis of Graham had invited countless guests and spent lavishly.
“Wasn’t it almost like a royal wedding? Senile old man… for a marriage that was bound to fail.”
Sophia pursed her lips.
At the very least, she wanted her own wedding to match even the hem of that dress.
She still needed to discuss the wedding venue with Egbert…
Uneasy, she glanced toward his room again.
It felt like she could smell the heavy stench of alcohol even from outside the door.
