Aleric's eyes narrowed as he observed Ingrid's attempts to make herself small in his presence. A hint of irritation flickered across his face. However, he regained his patience, knowing it was his fault in the first place.

“What brings you here today, your highness?” Ingrid asked, her voice lacking her usual confidence. She rubbed her sweaty hands on her clothes.

This morning, she had just decided that she would seek out the crown prince herself if he did not show up another day. But now that he is here, she can hardly speak without cowering. All the courage and resolve she had gathered completely vanished into thin air.

“Afraid?” He teased.

Ingrid looked away. “No.” She is.

Though for some odd reason that nighmerish day had already stopped visiting her in her sleep, the memory of it still burns in her mind. There is no way she will forget about that day.

“Then look at me.”

Ingrid flinched at his command. Slowly, she turned her head, her gaze meeting Aleric's. However, the only thing she sees is the memory of the cruelty etched in his eyes—the cold indifference of the monster on that hunting ground as he tore the bodies of his prey limb by limb with his bare hands. She quickly averted her gaze, unable to bear looking at him any longer.

Aleric watched her, a sigh escaping his lips. He had sought her hand in marriage not just because he needed her father's army but because she could look him in the eye—a reason many would probably find ridiculous. But now, with her eyes refusing to meet his, she was no different from everyone else.

"Let us end this deal then," he said, his voice laced with a hint of resignation. He had hoped to find an ally, a partner who could stand by his side, but instead, in his carelessness, he broke her.

Ingrid's eyes widened in disbelief. Her mind froze for a moment, unable to process his words.

"Don't worry," he said nonchalantly. "Since this is my fault, let's just consider that none of this ever happened."

"But what about my father's army?" she asked, her voice trembling with a mixture of confusion and panic. "I thought you needed it?"

Aleric rose from his seat. "Indeed, things would be convenient if I had your father's army in my arsenal," he admitted with a shrug. "But it's not like it's our only option. It's just the most convenient one."

"I see," she said, a hint of disappointment showing on her face.“Well, it was an honor to meet you, my lady.”

Aleric began to leave, but then...

"Wait!" Ingrid called out.

Aleric paused, his head tilted slightly to the side, and his eyes fixed on her with an intensity that made Ingrid's heart pound in her chest. He was waiting for her to continue, his expression unreadable.

Ingrid took a deep breath, summoning all her courage, and met his gaze with a newfound determination.

"I'll... let's... let's not end our deal."

"Are you certain?" he asked with a raised brow. "There would be no turning back from here."

Ingrid nodded, her eyes unwavering, her trembling hands hidden behind her back.

"I am."

Aleric studied her for a moment longer, his gaze piercing, searching for any hint of doubt or hesitation. But he found none. Her eyes, though filled with fear, held a resolve that he had not seen before.

"Then look at me in the eyes," he challenged.

Ingrid met his gaze once more. The memory of that day and the horror she had witnessed flashed before her eyes, but this time, she forced herself to hold his gaze.

Aleric was taken aback by her unusual determination. The desperation in her eyes was uncanny. He couldn't help but wonder why a woman blessed with riches, love, and great beauty could look so utterly miserable.

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"I will walk towards you," he said, his voice dark and low. "If you can hold my gaze until I reach you, then I will honor your wish."

Ingrid swallowed hard, her heart pounding in her chest. She wished for something solid to lean on, her legs threatening to give way under the weight of fear and anticipation.

Aleric took a step forward, his eyes never leaving hers.

Ingrid fought against the urge to look away, to break the connection that bound her to this man. She forced herself to meet his gaze, her eyes locking onto his with a fierceness that surprised even herself.

Aleric took another step, and then another. His movements were almost teasing, testing her resolve. The room seemed to stretch endlessly, each second ticking by like an eternity.

Ingrid could feel the blood rushing to her face and her heart pounding in her ears like a drum.

But she was determined. She had made her choice, and she would not turn back now. Even if it meant living with a monster, she would choose her own path.

When Aleric finally reached her, Ingrid let out a sigh of relief, her legs giving way beneath her. But before she could hit the ground, Aleric's arm snaked around her waist, pulling her into the safety of his embrace.

"Good job," he murmured. His voice had a hint of playfulness that sent a shiver down Ingrid's spine.

Ingrid's cheeks flushed red when she realized their intimate closeness. She could feel his warm breath on her face. His smell—a combination of leather and wood—and the fresh scent of the earth after it rained sent her nerves tingling.

She felt his gaze travel down her face, from her eyes to her nose to her lips, lingering there for a moment longer than necessary. The intensity of his stare made her breath catch in her throat.

Before she could even process what was happening, his soft lips were against hers, moving with a slow, gentle exploration that sent a million butterflies fluttering in her stomach.

Ingrid was heading to the Grand Duke’s palace to join her father for breakfast.

Behind her were Lily and Iris, who had just entered their household a few days ago. It would have been Seli, following behind Ingrid, if not for her betrayal, which still left an ache in both her and Lily’s hearts.

At first, a lot of the other servants are wary of Iris. Even the grand duke is quite suspicious of Iris' sudden arrival. However, upon investigation, her story corroborates the result. She really was a survivor of that horrific day. The only lie in her story was that it wasn't among the survivors whom the grand duke had taken under his wing.

With Iris beside her, Ingrid felt a lot safer going around their dukedom, and so did the grand duke. She proved herself to be worthy of her title as a general after sparring with the soldiers inside the grand duke's residence and defeating all of them. Though Iris did not get to battle her father's military commanders, Ingrid was sure she could hold her own against them and perhaps even defeat some of them.

Ingrid felt really thankful to the Crown Prince for lending her Iris.

But the thought of the Crown Prince automatically put a crimson color on Ingrid’s cheeks. Remembering the kiss that they shared made her want to bury her face somewhere.

“My lady? Is there something wrong?" Lily, who was quick to notice Ingrid’s subtle changes, asked, “You’re completely red, my lady. Are you having a fever? Do you want to head back? Shall I inform the grand duke?”

Lily’s series of questions made Ingrid more embarrassed.

She quickly shook her head to stop Lily from making a bigger fuss. “I’m fine, really. Oh yeah, don’t you think the servants are acting a bit weird today?” She asked, hoping to divert her lady-in-waiting’s attention.

Lily's eyes darted around the hallway, taking in the somber atmosphere that hung heavy in the air. Her gaze fell on the faces of the servants, their expressions etched with worry and nervousness, a stark contrast to the joyous celebration she expected.

Turning to Ingrid, she whispered, "That's really odd, my lady. They are supposed to be celebrating. After all, it's been a long time since you visited the main palace."

Iris, her curiosity piqued, couldn't help but ask, "The lady's arrival is supposed to be celebrated? Why?"

Lily, with a hint of smugness, explained, "Because they believe that Lady Ingrid is lady luck. They think that if they see our lady's face in the morning, they will be lucky throughout the entire day."

Iris's brows furrowed in confusion. The notion struck her as absurd, a baseless superstition. Her eyes swept over Ingrid, taking in every detail of her appearance. Indeed, Lady Ingrid is quite the beauty—no, even the word beautiful isn't enough to describe her. But in the end, she's still a mortal, isn't she? What power does a mortal have to influence luck?

Lily, sensing Iris's skeptical scrutiny, shot her a sharp look. "Hey, how dare you look at my Lady Ingrid like that?" she reprimanded.

“Lily, can you ask one of the servants what’s going on?" Ingrid requested before another argument started between them.

From the very first moment they met, Lily and Iris were never fans of each other. Iris had a rough soldier's tongue and spoke her mind bluntly, without regard. This irks Lily, who was accustomed to the polished, diplomatic discourse of the nobility.

Because of their clashing personalities, an argument once broke out between them that almost ended in a fist fight, which would have meant death for Lily, given the size of Iris' fist. Thankfully, Ingrid was there to stop them.

"Can you please avoid fighting with Lily?” Ingrid pleaded after Lily left. It's still early in the morning, and she could already feel a headache coming.

“I’ll try, my lady,” Iris answered non-commitedly.

"Can't you try harder?" Ingrid said, helpless.

"I'd like to, my lady," she replied sincerely. "But unless I learned the ways of the nobles, I don't think Lily would approve of me."

Ingrid sighed, defeated, knowing Iris was right.

Iris continued with a hint of wistfullness, "Alas, all of this pretentious courtesy is so foreign to me that it makes me miss the battlefield. At least there, things are simple: you're either a friend or a foe."

Ingrid couldn't help but smile at Iris's blunt honesty. Despite her rough edges, there was an endearing simplicity about Iris, a refreshing contrast to the often-stifling formality of the noble world.

"You really are... how should I say this... unfettered?" Ingrid said, filled with a mix of amusement and admiration.

Iris chuckled, her shoulders relaxing slightly. "I guess you could say that," she admitted. "I've always been more comfortable with a sword in my hand than a teacup."

Lily returned from her questioning of the servants, her face etched with worry. "My lady," she reported, "it seems the Grand Duke is in a foul mood today..."

But then she paused, her eyes widening in surprise, as she caught sight of Ingrid's radiant smile, a rare sight that transformed the somber atmosphere into a warm one. The servants around them, too, were affected by the sudden change, their gazes drawn to Ingrid with a mixture of awe and admiration.

"Did something happen while I was away?" Lily pressed, her curiosity piqued.

Ingrid flashed Lily a reassuring smile, her eyes twinkling with a hint of amusement. "It's nothing. Don't worry," she said, tapping Iris on the shoulder. "Come, let's go and find my father."

Lily reluctantly followed Ingrid, her eyes darting toward Iris suspiciously.