The morning sky over the Rosenberg duchy broke in a spectacular display of pale amber and soft gold.
In the sprawling, ancient gardens surrounding the grand Rosenberg mansion, the absolute silence of the early hour was gently broken by the melodic chirping of the morning birds.
The imposing stone fortress, notorious for its chilling and desolate atmosphere, lay entirely quiet, bathed in the peaceful light of the dawn.
Inside the master bedchamber, Grand Duke Killian Von Rosenberg was fast asleep.
His sharp, lethal features were relaxed against the dark silk pillows, his pristine silver hair falling slightly across his closed eyes.
The absolute tranquility of the room did not last, however.
The heavy wooden double doors of the chamber slowly, quietly creaked open.
A procession of royal maids stepped softly into the room, their movements synchronized and silent as they approached the grand windows.
With a fluid motion, the head maid reached out and pulled the heavy, dark velvet curtains wide open.
The sudden, brilliant piercing rays of the morning sun flooded the room, striking Killian directly across his face.
Killian’s eyelids fluttered.
With a slow, fluid motion of his right hand, he raised his palm to shield his eyes from the blinding glare.
“Please wake up, My Lord,” one of the junior maids spoke in a soft, highly respectful tone, bowing her head slightly.
“The morning has officially arrived.”
“Hmm…
very well,” Killian muttered, his deep, gravelly morning voice cutting through the quiet air of the room.
“Yes, My Lord,” the maid replied, stepping back.
Killian sat up slowly, running a long, gloved hand through his disheveled silver hair, his midnight-blue eyes instantly regaining their razor-sharp clarity.
The stoic mask was back in place.
He looked toward the head of the maid procession and spoke calmly.
“Listen, Maria.
Go and wake up my fiancée as well.”
The moment the word left his lips, the entire master bedchamber plunged into a state of absolute, suffocating silence.
The maids froze mid-motion, their hands gripping the linens as their eyes widened in sheer, unadulterated shock.
They looked at each other, wondering if they had collectively misheard their notoriously cold master.
“My Lord…
a m-fiancée?” one of the younger maids stammered, her voice cracking in pure bewilderment.
Maria, the head maid, swallowed hard, trying to maintain her professional composure despite the absolute absurdity of the command.
“My Lord…
is it possible that you are merely recalling a dream you had last night?”
Right at that exact moment, the heavy door opened fully, and Sebastian, the sophisticated head butler of the Rosenberg duchy, stepped into the chamber.
Killian did not look up, his voice remaining smooth and absolute.
“No.
This is not a dream.”
Sebastian, noticing the utter confusion plastering the maids’ faces, looked directly at Maria’s shocked expression.
With a deadpan, professional tone, he adjusted his spectacles and cleared his throat.
“Lord Rosenberg’s fiancée is currently resting in the adjacent chambers.”
The silence in the room doubled, the gravity of the butler’s confirmation sinking in like an absolute boulder.
The maids felt their minds spinning.
“Now go and wake her up,” Killian commanded, his tone final.
Maria’s shoulders dropped, her voice trembling slightly.
“Y-Yes, My Lord.”
A few moments later, Maria stood outside the heavy double doors of the grand guest wing.
Her hand trembled slightly as she raised her knuckles to knock firmly against the dark wood.
Knock.
Knock.
“Miss Eldoria?
Miss Eldoria, please wake up,” Maria called out through the wood, her voice polite but strained.
“You have been summoned by Lord Rosenberg.”
Inside the luxurious chamber, buried deep beneath the heavy crimson velvet blankets, Evelyn shifted slowly.
Her body felt entirely bruised and exhausted from the frantic, late-night escape from the Imperial Palace.
She let out a long, grovelling yawn, rubbing her amethyst eyes in total daze as she muttered sleepily toward the door.
“Who…
who is it?”
“My Lady, it is I, your personal maid, Maria,” the voice responded from the other side of the door.
Evelyn, still trapped in a heavy fog of sleep, rolled over slightly.
“Tell me…
what is the matter?”
“My Lady, you have been summoned by Lord Rosenberg.
The morning has arrived,” Maria stated clearly.
Evelyn’s heavy eyelids fluttered, her brain processing the words at a snail’s pace.
“Who…
Rosenberg?”
“My Lady, your fiancé, Lord Killian Von Rosenberg,” Maria answered back through the heavy frame.
“Killian…
Rosenberg…” Evelyn mumbled to herself, her voice trailing off.
Suddenly, her amethyst eyes snapped wide open.
The realization hit her brain like a violent bolt of lightning.
The sleep vanished instantly from her system, her heart hammering against her ribs.
“Killian?!” she gasped out loud, scrambling upright in pure terror.
“Yes, yes, My Lady!” Maria called out, hearing the sudden rustle inside.
“You…
you may leave!
I will be out shortly!”
Evelyn shouted frantically, her voice trembling.
“Very well, My Lady,” Maria’s footsteps faded away down the corridor.
Evelyn sat in the center of the massive bed, her pale golden hair wildly disheveled as she clutched her head in pure panic.
‘How on earth did I forget?!’ her soul screamed in utter desperation.
‘Just last night, we signed a formal covenant!
Because of that contract, I am officially his fiancée now!
I need to move quickly, I need to go right now!’
In her absolute haste to get out of the grand bed, Evelyn threw the heavy velvet blankets aside.
But as she swung her legs over the ledge, her foot became tangled in the intricate folds of the heavy silk bedsheet.
“Whoa—!”
With a loud thud, Evelyn lost her balance completely, tumbling off the bed and crashing face-first onto the hard polished floor of her chamber.
She groaned in absolute agony, rubbing her bruised knee as she scrambled back onto her feet.
“Ah, seriously?!
I have to hurry, I need to move!”
In the grand dining hall of the estate, the long, polished obsidian table was laden with an opulent morning feast.
Killian sat elegantly at the head of the table, his posture statuesque and flawless.
He was completely silent, his right hand resting on the dark wood as his long, gloved finger tapped a slow, methodical rhythm against the surface.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
Standing rigidly against the far wall were Sebastian and Maria, their eyes fixed on their master.
Sebastian leaned slightly toward the head maid, his voice dropping into a hushed, barely audible whisper.
“In all my years of service, I have never seen Lord Rosenberg wait for anyone like this.”
Maria nodded subtly, her eyes wide with lingering awe.
“He…
he has truly changed completely in the span of a single night.
Tell me, Sebastian, what on earth actually happened last night?”
Sebastian adjusted his spectacles, his deadpan gaze remaining fixed ahead.
“I shall explain the details to you later.
It is an incredibly long and complicated story.”
“Very well,” Maria murmured.
Knock.
Knock.
The heavy double doors of the dining hall creaked.
Killian stopped tapping his finger.
“Come in.”
A junior maid threw the door open, stepping aside to reveal Evelyn.
She was wearing a beautiful, elegant morning gown—the exact one that Killian had quietly ordered the staff to place inside her chambers during the late hours of the night.
She walked into the vast hall, her scratched, bare feet now adorned in soft slippers, though her cheeks were flushed with a deep crimson hue.
She walked toward the head of the table and took her seat on the chair situated directly to Killian’s right side.
She lowered her head, her amethyst eyes looking down in deep apology.
“Please forgive me, Killian.
I…
I failed to wake up on time.”
Killian casually picked up his linen napkin, his voice entirely calm and smooth.
“It does not matter.
You may reside here exactly as you wish.”
Behind them, Sebastian and Maria’s jaws nearly dropped to the floor simultaneously.
Maria’s eyes bulged as she whispered frantically to the butler.
“He…
he truly has changed!”
Evelyn felt a sudden warmth in her chest, her voice laced with extreme shyness.
“Th-Thank you, Killian.”
“Will you have coffee?” Killian asked, gesturing toward the silver pots.
“Y-Yes, please,” Evelyn responded softly.
A maid stepped forward instantly, pouring a steaming cup of rich, aromatic coffee for Evelyn before stepping back into the shadows.
Killian lifted his own porcelain cup, taking a slow, elegant sip with absolute indifference.
Evelyn followed his lead, lifting her trembling cup toward her lips.
As she took a small sip, her eyes nervously darted around the grand hall.
She could see the maids standing in the far corners, their heads huddled together as they cast stealthy, curious glances toward her, whispering furiously among themselves about the mysterious new princess.
The intense scrutiny made her skin crawl with awkwardness.
Killian set his cup down with a soft click, his midnight-blue eyes locking onto her flustered expression.
“What is the matter, Evelyn?
Is your health unwell?”
Evelyn choked slightly on her coffee, her face flushing even redder.
“No!
I am completely f-fine…
it is just…”
Killian’s eyes narrowed into a piercing focus.
“Just what?”
Evelyn set her cup down on the saucer, her hands trembling as she pulled them back into her lap.
“N-Nothing.
I shall go and prepare myself for the journey now, alright?”
Killian gave a single, firm nod.
“Very well.”
Evelyn rose from her chair immediately.
A maid sprinted forward to throw the double doors open, and Evelyn practically sprinted out of the dining hall, hurrying back toward the safety of her chambers.
Inside her guest room, Evelyn sat directly in front of the grand silver mirror, staring at her beautiful, ethereal reflection.
Her amethyst eyes were clouded with deep anxiety and an overwhelming sense of melancholic confusion.
“I…
I altered the entire trajectory of the original story just to save my own cheap life,” she whispered to herself, her voice cracking with deep sorrow.
“Was this truly the right thing to do?
Will this fracture cause some horrific calamity in the future?
I don’t even know how the final volume of the story ends…
I don’t know anything anymore.”
She lowered her head, sitting in absolute, mournful silence as the weight of her fractured destiny pressed down upon her soul.
Knock.
Knock.
“Miss Eldoria, Lord Rosenberg has summoned you to the grand entrance.
The carriage is fully prepared,” a servant’s voice echoed through the wood.
Evelyn took a deep breath, forcing her sadness down.
“I am coming.”
She stood up, smoothed down the elegant gown, and walked out of the room.
When she reached the grand entrance of the mansion, the massive wooden doors were thrown wide open by two guards.
The brilliant morning sunlight poured into the foyer, illuminating a breathtakingly beautiful, opulent royal carriage parked right at the bottom of the steps.
Killian stood at the top of the stairs, his tailored trousers and crisp shirt making him look entirely statuesque and powerful.
Hearing her footsteps, he turned his body around, his cold midnight-blue eyes locking onto her.
“You have arrived, Evelyn.”
“Yes, Killian,” she murmured, stepping closer.
Killian extended his large, gloved hand toward her in a smooth, gentlemanly gesture.
Evelyn froze for a fraction of a second, her heart doing a sudden, violent flutter against her ribs.
A wave of deep shyness washed over her, but she slowly reached out, placing her small, delicate hand directly into his massive palm.
“Let us depart,” Killian spoke smoothly, his grip firm yet surprisingly gentle as he guided her down the grand marble stairs.
They stepped into the luxurious carriage, sitting closely beside one another on the plush velvet seats.
Sebastian climbed onto the front box, and with a sharp click of the reins, the royal carriage surged forward, leaving the Rosenberg gates behind as it raced toward the capital’s high-end market district.
Inside the carriage, the proximity between them was suffocating for Evelyn.
She was sitting directly next to Killian, her shoulder brushing against his broad frame with every slight bump in the road.
Her face was completely, utterly red with shyness, her eyes staring fixedly out the window to avoid his piercing gaze.
Suddenly, Sebastian’s voice carried through the small front window.
“My Lord, we are about to enter the capital city’s main market district.”
“Very well,” Killian replied indifferently.
The moment the grand, crest-adorned Rosenberg carriage breached the city gates and entered the bustling thoroughfare, a massive commotion erupted.
The streets were lined with noble ladies, young debutantes, and high-society women who immediately recognized the distinct, terrifying black-and-gold design of the vehicle.
“Look!
Look over there!” a young noble girl shrieked, clutching her friend’s arm.
“It is Lord Rosenberg’s royal carriage!
He is actually visiting the market district today!”
“Oh my goodness, let us go quickly!” another lady cried out, her fan fluttering madly.
“Perhaps we will finally get an opportunity to exchange greetings with him!
Hurry, follow the carriage!”
Within seconds, a massive crowd of screaming, desperate noble women began running frantically down the cobblestone streets, chasing directly behind the moving carriage like a wild pack of predators.
Inside the carriage, Evelyn peeked through the back mirror, her jaw dropping in complete and absolute shock as she witnessed the terrifying stampede of high-society women chasing them.
She turned her head toward the silver-haired Duke, her voice laced with immense awe.
“It…
it seems you are incredibly famous and desired among the ladies, Killian.”
Killian did not even turn his head, his expression remaining an iron mask of absolute, chilling apathy.
“Ignore them.
I possess absolutely zero interest in any of them.”
Evelyn blinked, her curiosity getting the better of her shyness.
“Then…
who exactly are you interested in?”
Killian slowly turned his head, his midnight-blue eyes boring straight into her amethyst gaze, his voice deep and smooth.
“When the time arrives, you shall find out.”
Evelyn’s breath caught in her throat, her heart hammering wildly.
“When the time arrives…?
Fine.”
The carriage ground to a halt directly in front of the capital’s most exclusive high-end fashion boutique.
Sebastian jumped down from his box, swiftly walking to the left door and pulling it open with a respectful bow.
The moment Killian stepped out of the vehicle, his towering, drop-dead gorgeous frame bathed in the sunlight, a collective gasp echoed through the crowded street.
Several younger noble girls looked as though they were about to faint on the spot from his sheer beauty, their faces flushing red as they tried to swarm around him.
However, Killian did not walk toward the boutique.
Instead, he turned around and extended his large, gloved hand back into the darkness of the carriage with an unprecedented display of absolute tenderness and care.
The crowd of ladies instantly fell into a dead, horrified silence.
Their eyes bulged out of their sockets as they stared at his extended hand.
Slowly, a small, pale, and incredibly beautiful hand emerged from the shadows, placing itself gently into Killian’s palm.
Princess Evelyn Von Eldoria stepped out of the carriage, her golden hair shimmering in the sun.
The crowd of noble women went completely rigid with pure, unadulterated shock.
Some of them looked as though they couldn’t digest the scene before them, their faces contorting into expressions of pure jealousy and rage.
“P-Princess Eldoria?!” a lady gasped out in absolute disbelief.
“And she is…
she is openly walking beside Lord Killian?!”
“How can this be?!
This is outrageous!” the crowd began to whisper furiously.
Right at the edge of the murmuring crowd, a prominent noble lady suddenly lunged forward.
She reached out, grabbed Sebastian tightly by his pristine butler sleeve, and violently dragged him out of the crowd, cornering him in a secluded alcove near the boutique wall.
“Tell me this instant!” the noble lady hissed in a frantic, demanding whisper, her eyes wide with desperation.
“What on earth is that magic-less princess doing alongside Lord Killian?!
Why are they together?!”
Sebastian remained entirely deadpan.
He reached into his vest, pulled out a silk handkerchief, and calmly wiped the cold sweat from his forehead before adjusting his spectacles.
“Princess Eldoria is officially Lord Rosenberg’s fiancée.”
The noble lady gasped so loudly she nearly choked on her own breath, her body staggering back in pure shock.
“What?!
When and how on earth did this happen?!”
Sebastian let out a controlled, professional sigh.
“Last night, inside the private library.”
The noble lady’s voice completely broke, shouting at the top of her lungs in pure hysteria.
“INSIDE THE LIBRARY?!”
Realizing her own loud outburst, she instantly slapped both of her hands over her mouth, looking around frantically before dropping her voice into a scandalous, eager whisper.
“Inside the library…?”
Sebastian nodded slowly.
“Yes.
Lord Rosenberg had merely gone into the library late last night to read his books.
However, when he finally emerged, the Princess was accompanying him.
He immediately declared her as his fiancée, and she has been residing within the grand mansion since last night.”
Hearing this chronological sequence of events, the noble lady’s head began to spin violently.
Her knees buckled, and she began to faint backwards into the air.
Sebastian quickly stepped forward, extending his arm to provide a stiff, professional support to keep her from crashing onto the cobblestones.
The moment she regained her footing, the noble lady violently grabbed Sebastian by his stiff collar, her eyes blazing with absolute, desperate curiosity.
“Tell me!
Were they…
were they caught in a highly compromising, objectionable position inside that library?!
Tell me, were there scandalous noises echoing from within the room?!”
Sebastian’s face remained a total iron wall of butler etiquette.
“No, no, my lady.
Everything was completely, absolutely quiet.”
The noble lady’s eyes widened to the size of saucers, her breath hitching in a scandalous epiphany.
“What?!
You mean…
Lord Killian turned out to be that incredibly quiet and secretive?!
Tell me…
are the Princess’s physical gestures and behaviors looking strange today?
Does she look completely unwell?
Is…
is she pregnant?!
Is the Princess going to become a mother?!”
Sebastian blinked behind his spectacles, delivering his ultimate deadpan masterstroke line in a hushed whisper.
“I…
I have not confirmed anything yet, my lady.”
He then paused, leaning in a fraction of an inch as he muttered softly under his breath.
“However, Lord Rosenberg is entirely capable of accomplishing anything he sets his mind to.”
The noble lady gripped his collar even tighter, her face turning completely translucent from the pure scandal of his words.
“What did you just say?!”
“N-Nothing, my lady,” Sebastian replied smoothly, pulling himself back.
Meanwhile, just a few feet away, Evelyn was standing directly beside Killian near the boutique entrance.
The combination of sleeplessness, the physical exhaustion of her escape, and the suffocating, intense psychological pressure of the noble ladies’ glaring eyes suddenly made her head spin violently.
Her vision blurred, and her balance faltered.
Killian’s razor-sharp reflexes kicked in instantly.
He reached out, his powerful arm wrapping securely around her waist to support her weight.
His midnight-blue eyes narrowed in deep concern.
“What is the matter, Evelyn?
Are you alright?”
But for Evelyn, the sudden wave of intense shyness, the heat of his body, and the churning in her stomach became completely unmanageable.
She bent forward, and right there, in the dead center of the capital’s high-end marketplace, she violently vomited.
The entire bustling district instantly fell into a dead, horrifyingly absolute silence.
Every single noble lady and screaming debutante froze, their eyes fixed on the scene in pure, unadulterated shock.
The noble lady who was holding Sebastian’s collar slowly let her hands drop, her face completely empty of color as she stared at Evelyn clutching her stomach.
A terrifyingly certain conclusion locked into her gossip-hungry mind.
“Now…” the noble lady whispered, her voice trembling violently with absolute despair.
“…there is absolutely no need for any further confirmation!
The rumors are true!”
Killian, completely ignoring the delusional whispers of the high society, looked down at the pale, shivering princess in his arms.
His voice boomed through the silent marketplace with absolute command.
“Summon the royal doctor immediately!
Sebastian, hurry!”
Sebastian straightened his vest instantly, his deadpan expression hardening into urgent action.
“Yes, My Lord!
Right away!”
Thank you for reading!
If you’re enjoying the story, please add it to your library and leave a comment.
Your support motivates me to keep writing!
Love Killian & Evelyn?
Find me on Discord: noahforge The Rosenberg Estate awaits you.