A Way to Confirm Your Husband’s True Feelings - Chapter 20
“It’s a pleasure to see you again, Margrave Valentin.”
“Likewise, Lady Beatrice of House Estern.”
He had surely been introduced to a countless number of nobles at the New Year’s banquet, and yet he had remembered both her name and her face. She had been overjoyed.
How her heart had trembled when she caught a faint hint of delight in those violet eyes that always seemed so dry.
But the conversation between the two did not last long. It was because the Crown Prince, having finished his talk with Freya, turned his attention to Beatrice.
“Beatrice, it’s been a while. I hope you’re not one of those young ladies seeing Margrave Valentin in sharp focus while the rest of us appear like vague ghosts. That particular condition seems to be spreading like wildfire in the capital lately.”
“You seemed to be discussing official matters with Freya, Your Highness, so I refrained from interrupting.”
Thanks to her parents, Beatrice had frequently visited the imperial palace from a young age and had established close relationships with members of the imperial family.
Especially with Edgar, who was so close to Freya that he felt more like an older cousin. There had once even been talk of an engagement between him and Beatrice, but because of their familial closeness, both had firmly opposed it. Edgar was now engaged to a lady from another ducal house, Greta, not Estern or Ashburn.
“Ah, then I’m relieved. Still, considering we almost got engaged, I was starting to feel a little slighted.”
That engagement story had long passed and was now a matter they could joke about.
At Edgar’s words, Beatrice smiled, and in that brief moment, she stole a glance at Margrave Valentin, who stood beside him. He was looking at Edgar with an unreadable expression.
Even when glimpsed from the side, Caesar was perfect again today. The deep blue formal wear, the silver decorative cords draped elegantly, and the cape hanging from one shoulder suited him handsomely.
He had only recently been granted a title, so surely all his attire and activities within high society were managed by the imperial palace. It would be stranger if he weren’t immaculately presented.
But more than the clothes, it was the man wearing them that mattered. Though it was hard to imagine, Beatrice couldn’t help but secretly wonder if he had looked just as perfect back when he was still living as a mercenary.
“You both must be quite busy tonight.”
“I suppose. So many in the social circle are eager to get acquainted with the new margrave.”
And as always, the way people looked at things was generally the same. Just like last time, nobles subtly lingered around the Crown Prince and the Margrave, drifting like mist, hoping for a moment to speak with them.
Though the newly arrived Margrave Valentin had stolen some of the spotlight, Edgar, with his sparkling blond hair and cool sky-blue eyes, was himself a tall and handsome figure.
With two dashing young men at the center of attention, it was only natural that everyone’s eyes were drawn to them.
“Now then, I think the waltz will begin shortly. Who’s your first dance with?”
“Naturally, I’m planning to dance with my husband.”
“Then Lady Beatrice of House Estern…”
Beatrice, feeling her cheeks warm, held out her fan toward Edgar and Caesar.
Since entering the ballroom, young noblemen eager to earn a spot on her fan had approached her relentlessly.
As such, nearly all her dances had been spoken for, but it was customary to leave the first and second dances open for special guests.
Usually, those slots were reserved for family, someone of higher rank, a lover, or a fiancé.
“As I thought—you saved a place for me. Sophia isn’t feeling well tonight and couldn’t come. Since my fiancée isn’t here, I suppose I’ll take the first dance with you.”
Edgar grinned and wrote his name in the very first slot. As the most noble presence in the room tonight, dancing the first waltz with Beatrice was not improper in the slightest.
“Then the second will be with the Marchioness of Hoyos… What about you, Margrave? I hear your dance tutor can’t praise you enough—says you’re a natural when it comes to physical movement.”
Her hands trembled so much from the nerves of showing her fan to the Crown Prince that Beatrice had to grip it tightly to stop the shaking. Summoning her courage, she extended the fan toward Caesar, waiting only for his response.
She hadn’t planned it this way, but by the way things had unfolded, Margrave Valentin now had little choice but to accept and write his name.
Even someone unfamiliar with etiquette would know it would be natural for him to dance with her in this setting.
“I… must decline.”
But Caesar defied all expectations and did not write his name on Beatrice’s fan.
