I didn't even know how I made it back into the banquet hall.
But somehow I was standing in the middle of the floor again, ready to waltz.
I led the Grand Duke's hand blindly and nodded—signaling I was ready.
At the same moment, he led me into the dance.
"Are you usually this good at everything?"
His voice was warm with amusement.
"You're dancing even better than last time."
"I'm good at memorizing things."
I spoke more cheerfully on purpose.
It was hard to believe I'd just walked away from the Duke of Madeleine—from my father—without looking back.
I danced harder, afraid my trembling hands would give me away.
I tried to enjoy the banquet as best I could.
I can't let the Duke ruin this night. Not when the Grand Duke went to so much trouble.
But it seemed I couldn't quite pull it off.
"Confused?"
The Grand Duke's blunt question hit the mark perfectly.
I tried to pretend I was fine, but a bitter smile slipped out.
"...If I said no, it would be a lie, wouldn't it?"
"Not as much as you—but me too."
"Why, Your Highness?"
Is he saying that because I'm complicated, he's also complicated?
I narrowed my eyes at him.
The Grand Duke sighed softly.
"Because His Majesty the Emperor left."
"So?"
"I made my wish, but he left without approving it. I was ready to get married tonight, you know."
His voice carried sincere regret.
I smiled faintly without meaning to.
A loose grin appeared on the Grand Duke's lips as he studied my face.
"You don't want to get married tonight, do you?"
"That's what it looks like, doesn't it? You're taking a joke very seriously."
"That's because I'm extremely witty."
I quoted his own words back to him.
The Grand Duke—caught off guard—laughed softly.
It was an insignificant exchange, but it eased my mind a little.
---
---
"Then rest well."
I looked at the closed door and reflected on the Grand Duke's words.
Then I looked at the room where I was, once again, alone.
I'd always felt empty after a banquet.
The hollowness inside had always been gnawing, as if I were starving.
But not tonight.
I'd finished everything.
This wasn't the sadness I always felt—it was more a sense of liberation.
My fingertips were numb. My skin tingled.
It was a strange feeling.
Ethella, who was always weak, used to complain that whenever her skin tingled, she felt like she was about to get sick.
Each time, I'd prepared Ethella's medicine without even understanding what she meant by "tingling."
Because that was my role as Olivia.
But now, things had changed.
This small change felt like the beginning.
I looked at my fingertips with something close to acceptance.
My head felt dizzy too.
I smiled softly as I walked toward the bed.
My unsteady steps didn't lead me straight there—instead, I found myself at the table.
A diary sat on the surface.
My diary—the one I'd kept for over ten years at the Duke's residence.
It seemed Hannah had brought it.
This is really an impulse.
I sat down in the chair instead of going to bed.
I was already out of breath—but I didn't care.
When my delicate, trembling hands opened the diary, there was, of course, nothing written on that pure white paper.
No words that had always oppressed me.
So I wrote—for myself—for the first time.