A low friction sound of leather rubbing echoed every time the heavy scabbard brushed against my thigh.

The noise of the lavishly decorated imperial ballroom surged like a massive wave, but the air seeping through my hair, neatly tied up instead of hidden by a helmet, was ice-cold.

In contrast to the cold sensation of the sword hilt against my palm, my gaze always landed on the white hair shimmering with a warm light, just as it always did.

"Guest, you're exceptionally on edge today. You could stand to be a bit more relaxed."

Irene's voice tickled my eardrums as smoothly as pearls rolling on a silver tray.

As she turned her head slightly, the golden dust from the chandeliers poured over the face praised as the most beautiful in the empire.

Every time those purple eyes curved softly toward me, a corner of my chest burned hot.

Struggling to suppress my irregular heartbeat, I opened my tightly closed lips.

"My duty is to guard you, My Lady. I cannot afford a single moment of carelessness."

"Such a perfectionist, honestly."

Irene let out a small laugh and lightly touched my elbow.

The faint warmth transmitted through the thin silk gloves felt as if it were piercing through the chill of my armor to reach my skin.

As the sweet scent of lilies emanating from her dress brushed past my nose, my mind flickered white.

I know this scent.

I know all too well for whom this scent grows stronger, and for whom her purple eyes wander through this vast ballroom in search of.

Irene's gaze suddenly shifted toward the entrance.

The longing in her eyes was a kind I could never possess.

Her lips warmed slightly as she let out a breath filled with excitement.

"He's here. It's His Highness Damian."

The moment that name was heard, every nerve in my body stood sharp like a blade.

A murmur spread from the entrance of the ballroom.

Amidst the pressure of everyone's gaze shifting to one spot, a man with long, dazzling blonde hair walked in with an arrogant stride.

Damian de Creutz.

Irene's fiancé, and the Crown Prince of this empire.

And the man I loathe the most.

The texture of the air changed the moment he appeared.

His presence exuded an intimidation that seemed to steal the very oxygen of others to use as his own.

His red eyes curved arrogantly as he scanned his surroundings.

Irene, as if she had already forgotten me, stood slightly on her tiptoes as if trying to catch even his shadow.

I stepped back and stood behind her like a shadow.

My back touched the cold wall.