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"I apologize."
"Next time, tell him there is no wine—even if there is."
"Yes, Your Grace."
Diego stole a glance around.
Fortunately, Cesare looked pleased.
It seemed his conversation with Eileen had brought him some satisfaction.
His master rarely showed personal emotion, but in Eileen's presence, he became uncharacteristically soft.
Diego shifted his gaze to Baron Elodd.
Now, all that remained was to finish with this scoundrel.
When Diego licked his lips and looked at the Baron, the man flinched and began to sob.
Higher up, the Baron tried to smile submissively, but his trembling body betrayed his terror.
Cesare, watching the scene, smiled slowly.
His beautiful face, from which it was impossible to look away, lit up with a grin.
"I see we have not been very hospitable to our guest."
Cesare spoke as if he were simply offering tea.
"Let’s sit and talk."
Soldiers dragged away the blood-soaked remnants left behind from the torture and hauled the Baron into a chair.
"Aaaaaah!"
The Baron wailed like a pig led to slaughter, drooling and weeping.
But he fell silent instantly when Cesare approached him.
The Baron's trousers were soaked again.
Looking down at the man, Cesare spoke.
"So..."
He smiled as if amused and asked, "Do you have anything else left to sell, Baron?"
***
From the highest bell tower of the archipelago, a chime rang out.
The bells, echoing across the entire city, heralded the start of the triumphal procession.
"Uh, excuse me, please let me through..."
Eileen pushed through the crowd, being jostled from side to side.
She barely managed to secure a spot slightly toward the front, but she was surrounded by tall men.
She could only see what was happening through the gaps between their shoulders.
Standing on her tiptoes, she suddenly noticed a man in front of her yield his space.
Eileen beamed and thanked him.
"Thank you!"
Now she could watch the procession from behind the backs of women and children.
It wasn't the very front, but it was a good enough vantage point.
*So many people...* She had known Cesare was idolized in the Empire, but she hadn't imagined to what extent.
It seemed the entire capital had come out to meet their hero.
The crowd erupted in cheers.
The shouting began in the distance and approached rapidly.
The trumpets of a military band began to play.
Under the sound of drums, the rhythmic stomp of soldiers' boots echoed.
People waved imperial flags, chanting Cesare's name.
The poor threw colored paper into the air; the wealthy threw fresh flowers and petals.
When everything around her was filled with flowers and paper, the soldiers in uniform appeared.
Marching in formation, they were the glory of the Traon Empire.
At the moment of the crowd's highest excitement, the hero of the triumphal procession finally appeared.
Cesare stood in a chariot drawn by six black horses, wearing his full-dress uniform.
Under his cap, the numerous medals on his uniform glinted in the sun.
Behind him fluttered a long red cloak embroidered with gold thread showing a winged lion—the symbol of the Imperial House of Traon.
Each movement of the cloak made it seem as if the lion were moving and flapping its wings.
And Cesare was the crown of all this magnificence.
His cold and dangerous red eyes made him look like a god of war manifest on earth.
Even on ordinary days, his beauty was enough to leave one speechless, but today, dressed in full splendor, it was terrifying.
He fully lived up to the expectations of the gathered crowd.
Some even fainted from the overwhelming emotion, screaming his name.
Everyone watched him, called his name, desperately hoping for even a glance.
Even Eileen, lost in the crowd like an ant, watched Cesare as if enchanted.
He truly was like a distant star.
It was hard to believe that just yesterday, this man had been with her.
Talking, laughing, doing strange things.
It felt so unreal that it was easier to believe it had all been a product of her imagination.
Now, she felt even less desire to attend the evening reception at the Imperial Palace.
How could someone as insignificant as her dare...
Eileen automatically took a step back.
But she couldn't retreat—she immediately bumped into the chest of the man who had given up his place to her.
"Careful."
The man supported her.
Eileen adjusted her sliding glasses and hastily apologized.
"Oh, I’m sorry!"
"It’s nothing.
It’s easy to get lost in a crowd," he smiled kindly.
"Would you like me to help you through?"
She was just about to refuse when the people around her suddenly screamed at the top of their lungs.
The deafening cries made her look forward in alarm.
Eileen’s mouth fell open involuntarily.
The procession had stopped.
Cesare had halted the horses and stepped down from the chariot.
The soldiers were clearly confused by the Grand Duke's actions.
Meanwhile, Cesare, holding a flower that had been thrown to him, walked directly...
...toward Eileen.
She froze in place, watching him approach.
The impossibly handsome man stopped before her and held out the flower.
A white lily.
The fresh scent of the flower enveloped her.
When Eileen took the flower with trembling hands, Cesare smirked.
He playfully tapped her on the nose.
"What is with that look?"
His red eyes, filled with playful sparks, watched her.
"All of this is yours."
Eileen stared at Cesare with the lily in her hands, stunned.
As if it were the most natural thing in the world, he had declared that all this glory belonged to her, while she was overcome with a powerful trembling.
The lily petals shook along with her hands.
Cesare raised an eyebrow for a moment, then, as if nothing had happened, returned to the procession.
Eileen watched him go, clutching the lily.
Only then did she notice the gazes of those around her.
Everyone was staring at her.
Their shocked expressions and intense stares were so overwhelming she felt as if she might suffocate.
She could feel greedy eyes sliding over the flower.
A flower given by the Grand Duke himself during his triumphal procession.
How could anyone not desire it?
Just as she thought things were getting worse, the man behind her reached out a hand, keeping the crowd away from Eileen.
He whispered quietly:
"I will escort you home."
In that same moment, several men surrounded her in a protective ring.
Only now did Eileen realize that all the tall men around her, including the one who had yields his place, were Cesare's people.
If it hadn't been for the Duke's unexpected action, she would have continued to believe she was merely receiving kindness from a stranger.
Even in such moments, she was under Cesare’s watch.
The realization came with a sudden insight.
*Was this really the first time?*
She felt a bit stifled, as if she had found herself in an invisible cage.
***
Eileen returned home under heavy guard.
Once inside, she finally relaxed.
As a precaution, she searched the entire two-story house, but her father had still not returned.
After inspecting the house, Eileen collapsed onto the sofa in the living room.
It was time to prepare for the reception at the Imperial Palace, but right now, she didn't want to move a muscle.
"..."
Why had he done that?
He knew perfectly well that his actions would cause a stir throughout the entire archipelago.
And yet, Cesare had intentionally stopped the procession and, stepping down from the chariot, presented her with the flower.
It seemed he wanted the entire Traon Empire to know of her existence—and likely, that was exactly what had happened.
Now, everyone in the city would be talking about the woman he had given the flower to.
It felt as though she had fallen into a spider's web.
It seemed that if she were to wake up now, she would find herself the Grand Duchess of Erzet.
Eileen looked thoughtfully at the lily in her hand.
She remembered the day she had first met him among the lilies.
No one called her Lily anymore.
But Cesare still saw that flower in her.
*"The Prince will undoubtedly become the light of the Empire."*
*"I am so proud to have been his nurse."*
*"You must also help the Prince, Lily.
We belong to him."*
Remembering her mother's words, Eileen closed her eyes.
Yesterday's Cesare, who had kissed her, and today's Cesare, participating in the triumph, were all a jumble in her head.
His words as he handed her the lily surfaced clearly:
"All this is yours."
Before those words, the implied meaning must have been: *‘When you become the Grand Duchess.’*