CHAPTER 74: THE TRAP

Perhaps since my rebirth into this world, I have been able to understand the meaning of the old saying more clearly than ever before: you can do hundreds of good deeds, and they will soon be forgotten, but if you slip up just once, that mistake will haunt you for the rest of your life.

This truth stuck in my mind, and every time I encountered similar situations, it reminded me of itself with renewed force.

This was also the case for me. Despite the fact that for three years I tried hard to improve my reputation — from avoiding public scandals to behaving impeccably at social events — in reality, high society’s attitude toward me remained almost exactly the same.

People smiled at me, but their eyes said something completely different. They whispered behind my back, gave me sidelong glances, and at receptions I always remained "the one" whose name was associated with her less than pious past.

So was there really any point in continuing to knock on a closed door? That’s why at some point I just stopped paying attention to it and gave up.

Instead of wasting my energy on fake smiles and empty conversations, I focused on what really mattered to me. My work became my support, and, of course, Ruby — the girl who became the center of my life, my meaning, and my source of strength.

Society could think whatever it wanted — I no longer needed its approval. This decision brought me relief, like a heavy burden had been lifted. I began to attend receptions less often, preferring instead the quiet of my estate.

But sometimes, like today, circumstances demanded my presence. The emperor had personally invited me to this banquet, and it was impossible to refuse. So I came, ready for another act of this spectacle.

"My husband’s presence here is not at all necessary," Madame Blanchett remarked coldly, her voice dripping with venomous politeness.

She looked at me as if I were some kind of ridiculous misunderstanding that had accidentally found its way into the company of noble ladies.

"Well, as you wish," I replied with a restrained smile, not allowing my true emotions to show on my face.

I thought that after such an awkward situation, these women would immediately leave me and go away. But unfortunately, at that very moment, the music started playing in the hall at a completely inopportune moment. This signaled that the second part of the banquet, where people dance with their partners, was about to begin.

The sounds of violins and pianos filled the air, causing couples to gather in the center of the hall. Crystal chandeliers sparkled with light, glasses glistened, and a festive atmosphere hung in the air. But for me, this music sounded like a signal for trouble.

The women who had just been about to leave suddenly changed their minds. Their eyes flashed with malice, and I immediately understood why.

"Oh, what to do?" Madame Blanchett sighed dramatically. "It’s simply impossible to do without dancing on an evening like this. How fortunate that my husband is here and will certainly keep me company."

"Of course, dear," interjected her closest friend, a plump lady with a pearl necklace that jingled with her every movement. "And I’m lucky too — my fiancé is with me tonight. How sweet, isn’t it? He insisted that we dance together."

"Oh, yes!" chimed in a third woman, a thin woman with overly bright makeup. "My husband won’t let me get bored either. He’s always so attentive to me... I don’t even know how I could have come here without him."

They chattered away like a flock of birds, vying with each other to boast about their companions. Their voices were filled with false enthusiasm, and it was all done with one purpose in mind: to emphasize my loneliness, to make me an object of pity and contempt.

"But, dear Louise," the lady in pearls feigned surprise, "how can you be someone who came here alone? Isn’t it awful to stand on the sidelines while others enjoy dancing?"

"Oh, of course!" the second one exclaimed falsely. "It must be so awkward..."

I couldn’t bear it.

"Can you imagine?" added the third, pretending to whisper, but loud enough for me to hear. "To be surrounded by dancing couples and have no partner... What a sad picture."

They exchanged glances and barely audible giggles again. Their words sounded like innocent chatter, but I knew perfectly well that it was all directed at me.

"In my opinion," continued Madame Blanchett, tilting her head back, "a lady should always take care of her reputation. Appearing at balls alone... well, you must agree, it raises questions."

"Oh, absolutely," her friend agreed, pretending it was sincere sympathy. "What woman would willingly agree to come alone? Unless she couldn’t find a partner..."

"Or she lost respect in society," the third finished, her eyes flashing with satisfaction.

They laughed, while I continued to stand next to them, maintaining complete composure.

"What about you, Lady Weinstein?" Madame Blanchett addressed me with venomous politeness, lifting her chin slightly. "Are you going to dance tonight?"

The question was asked ostentatiously and loudly enough for the other guests to hear, and it was quite obvious that she already knew the answer.

Her eyes gleamed like those of a predator sensing weakness.

I, however, had no intention of giving her that pleasure. Keeping my tone even and my composure complete, I replied:

"No. I came here without a partner tonight."

That was the absolute truth. From the very beginning, I had not been looking for a companion for the evening because I considered my presence here to be nothing more than a formality. When William Dickens offered to accompany me, I declined, thinking that his participation would be superfluous.

So yes, I really didn’t have a partner that evening, but I didn’t regret it in the least. What’s more, I hadn’t even planned to dance today.

Nevertheless, the grateful ladies, upon hearing my answer, probably thought about it quite differently. Their faces flashed with masks of feigned regret, beneath which one could guess at malice.

"Oh, what a pity..." Madame Blanchett drawled, her voice dripping with venomous insincerity. "Lady Weinstein, you will miss out on so much tonight."

Her two companions exchanged glances and nodded in unison, unable to suppress their satisfied smiles. Their eyes slid over me as if I were some kind of curiosity, an amusing spectacle worthy of pity.

I could almost hear their thoughts: "Of course, who would invite a woman with such a reputation to dance? No decent gentleman would risk disgracing himself by her side."

The ladies continued to exchange glances and giggle. However, in the next moment, something happened that no one could have expected.

At that moment, a voice suddenly sounded beside us.

"Lady Weinstein, so you don’t have a partner for this evening either?" a calm, low voice sounded behind me.

I froze. The voice was familiar. Too familiar.

I turned around and saw the person I least expected to see at that moment.

Roger Dickens.

I didn’t even notice him approaching. There were no footsteps, not the slightest rustle. The guy appeared as if out of thin air, and for a moment it seemed to me that it was not a person standing in front of me, but a ghost.

His appearance was so sudden that I almost dropped my glass.

Roger stood a step away from me, his figure towering like a rock in a stormy sea. He was dressed in a military uniform that looked so good on him that no woman passing by could take her eyes off him.

The uniform emphasized his broad shoulders, medals gleamed on his chest, and his cold, piercing gaze was directed straight at me. His hair was neatly combed, his face, as usual, remained impenetrable, as if carved from marble.

I stared at him in bewilderment, while Roger calmly met my gaze.

"Why is he here?" flashed through my mind. "And why now...?"

My heart beat faster, but I remained calm.

"Sir Roger?" I asked, stunned.

At that moment, the ladies nearby gasped, their faces turning pale. Their eyes widened in amazement: they certainly did not expect the war hero himself, the very young man whose name was now known throughout the empire, to intervene in their little intrigue.

But Roger didn’t even seem to notice their presence. His attention was focused solely on me. His gaze was heavy but mesmerizing at the same time, and he spoke as if no one else existed around us.

"It so happens that I don’t have a partner either," he said in an even voice, without emotion, but a spark flashed in his eyes. "Perhaps you would agree to keep me company?"

For a second, I stopped breathing.

"What...?" I blurted out before I could stop myself.

His words hung in the air for a moment. The noble ladies gasped.

The air around me seemed to freeze. The music continued to play, but all sounds became distant, muffled. I felt dozens of eyes on me — the guests in the hall turned to watch the scene.

I looked at Roger, trying to understand his intentions, but in the next moment, this guy did something completely unexpected again.

"Lady Weinstein, would you agree to dance with me?" Roger said, his gaze fixed on mine.

After the heir to the duchy had made this completely unexpected proposal to me, he extended his hand in a characteristic gesture, which I was apparently supposed to take. His palm was firm, with calluses and scars that were probably left over from the war.

No, damn it. I really didn’t think I’d fall into such a trap tonight!

No matter how you looked at it, the situation was now rapidly spiraling out of my control.

A notification popped up before my eyes:

System notification: "Roger Dickens invites you to dance."

"Accept."

"Decline."

Shit.