Chapter 20
The carriage bearing the Leslie family crest sped swiftly through the opulent mansions.
Though night had fully fallen and the sky was dark, Whitemond Street was bathed in a brilliant glow, lit up by the countless lights spilling from the grand estates, making it feel like midday.
“It seems my presence is somewhat uncomfortable for you.”
Elisa, staring at the kaleidoscope of lights with a face full of worry, turned suddenly at Derek’s unexpected remark.
He looked back at her with genuine concern.
“Yeah… it is a bit uncomfortable.”
Uncomfortable. So could you please just let me get off?
Elisa swallowed the words lodged in her throat.
To say so outright would be rude—and might plant unnecessary suspicion.
Especially since Derek already seemed to be watching her with doubtful eyes, suspicious of her relationship with Ethan.
She had to tread carefully.
“I feel uneasy too—like I’m troubling you with something unnecessary when you’re already so busy.”
“Not at all.”
Derek smiled, his eyes curving like a crescent moon.
“Your well-being comes before any task. If you ever find yourself in a bind, don’t hesitate to call on me.”
But just as they say, too much kindness can be suffocating.
Elisa found his overly considerate attitude heavy, even unsettling.
“By the way, Elisa, you seem to have grown quite close to Baron Estevan.”
Questions kept coming in rapid succession, giving Elisa no chance to catch her breath.
She clenched the hand she’d been hiding inside her sleeve.
“Not at all. We’re not close.”
They had been once, but no longer.
To Elisa, Ethan was a painful memory she wished to forget—and the biological father of the child she loved.
Nothing more.
Nothing less.
“I thought being invited to the baron’s party meant you’d grown close, but I see that’s not the case.”
Derek tilted his head slightly, stroking his chin thoughtfully.
“Then why do you think he invited you?”
“I have no idea.”
It was true.
Elisa had pondered endlessly about what Ethan was thinking and why he’d invited her—but had found no answers.
“So when you meet the baron, you plan to ask him? And if he’s up to anything suspicious, you’ll warn him to stop?”
“Exactly.”
“Wouldn’t it be better if I handled that for you?”
“No. I want to do it myself.”
For the first time since boarding the carriage, Elisa met Derek’s gaze firmly, her voice steady and resolute.
“This is something I need to settle.”
Perhaps sensing the strength of her will, Derek said nothing further and simply nodded.
Before long, the carriage rolled into Richmond Street.
The moment Elisa stepped into the grand ballroom, her eyes found Ethan.
She hadn’t even tried to look for him—yet somehow, as if by fate, he stood right there in front of her.
He wore a charcoal-grey suit that matched the colour of his eyes, accented with a bold splash of crimson. It suited him so well, it almost took her breath away.
Without realising it, Elisa stared, captivated.
Then he turned his head—and she flinched, quickly tearing her gaze away.
The rapid thumping of her heart was all she could hear—and it was maddening.
“There’s Baron Estevan,” Derek said, spotting Ethan a moment later.
“Let’s go greet him, Elisa.”
The thought of greeting Ethan was already overwhelming, but having to do it with Derek at her side made it suffocating.
She felt like a lamb being led to slaughter as she followed Derrick across the room.
“Thank you for inviting us to the party, Baron.”
Derek offered a sociable smile and extended his hand.
Ethan responded with a polite smile and shook it firmly.
“Thank you for accepting the invitation, Sir Grenville.”
When Ethan turned his head, his eyes met Elisa’s.
She flinched but did not look away.
Instead, she straightened her posture, standing tall and unwavering.
“Thank you for inviting me, Baron.”
Elisa’s voice was dry and brittle, like parched earth after a long drought.
Even Derek looked taken aback, his eyes flicking to her with surprise.
But Ethan smiled as if nothing unusual had happened.
It was that very attitude—as though her emotions couldn’t possibly affect him—that got under her skin. It stung, feeling like she was the only one who cared.
Determined to ignore him in return, Elisa turned away as Ethan moved on to greet other guests.
But no matter how hard she tried, she found herself trailing behind him, each time startled by her reflex and quickly looking away.
She wanted to stop acting like a fool and just go home.
But not until she uncovered the real reason Ethan had invited her could she leave.
What’s more, she had expected him to come to her first, yet an hour had passed without so much as a glance in her direction.
Why did he even call me here?
She’d thought he had something to say, but maybe not.
Or was this some twisted way to torment her?
The more the questions piled up, the deeper the anxious knot in her chest grew.
Frustrated and burning with anger, Elisa downed a glass of champagne in one gulp.
Derek had stepped away to greet acquaintances, leaving no one to stop her.
After a second glass, a well of courage that had long since run dry suddenly brimmed full.
“If you won’t come to me, then I’ll come to you.”
Elisa had just made up her mind and taken a step in Ethan’s direction when the ballroom erupted into murmurs.
“Is it true? Princess Camilla has arrived?”
“I heard so! I thought it was Prince Howard’s carriage at first, but the princess stepped out herself. You should’ve seen everyone’s surprise!”
The unexpected arrival stunned the crowd—and Elisa’s eyes instinctively shifted toward the entrance.
Moments later, Princess Camilla appeared, her dress shimmering as if adorned with every star in the night sky.
For a moment, it seemed as if she were the true star of the evening, not Ethan Estevan.
“I’d heard rumours that Princess Camilla fancied Baron Estevan, but I never imagined she’d come all the way here…”
Elisa clenched her champagne glass so tightly it threatened to shatter.
Her eyes cut smoothly through the parting crowd, locking on the princess, whose gaze was fixed solely on Ethan.
“Thank you sincerely for gracing us with your presence, Your Highness.”
Ethan bent gracefully and pressed a light kiss to the back of the princess’s hand, offering his respect.
“This is a celebration for the hero who saved the kingdom and my brother’s new beginning. Of course, you had to come.”
The princess’s clear, melodious voice rang through the hall like a nightingale’s song, enchanting everyone present.
It was obvious to anyone looking that Princess Camilla was in love with Ethan—the blush on her cheeks and the brightness in her eyes told the story better than words ever could.
“Can you believe the princess? With her royal wedding on the horizon, what is she thinking, coming here like this?”
“Maybe she wants to become his mistress. It’s a political marriage, after all. Having someone on the side wouldn’t be unheard of.”
“Well, Baron Estevan doesn’t seem to mind…”
Why was she able to hear the whispers of the crowd so clearly?
Even to Elisa, it seemed that Ethan didn’t dislike Princess Camilla.
Knowing his nature, if he truly disliked her, he would have either ignored her or coldly dismissed her.
But instead, he was smiling and accepting her presence.
First it was Giselle Brianna, and now Princess Camilla?
“You said you only liked me. What a liar.”
Her heart was painfully torn by old memories.
She had promised herself to put an end to whatever they had—but here she was, shaken by something so trivial, feeling utterly pathetic.
Elisa continued to drink the champagne despite knowing that it was dangerous to drink more now.
She drained her strength, and the world spun after two more glasses.
“Elisa.”
Derek caught her as she staggered.
“Are you alright?”
“N-not really,” she slurred awkwardly, her tongue tangled by the alcohol.
She forced a sheepish smile, embarrassed by what she had said.
“You’ve had too much to drink. Maybe it’s best if we head home now.”
“Not yet.”
She couldn’t leave before settling things with Ethan.
Drinking a glass of cold water, her tongue untangled and her thoughts cleared a bit.
“I just need some fresh air.”
“I can come with you…”
“No, I’m going to stop by the powder room on the way back. I’ll be fine alone.”
Refusing Derek’s escort, Elisa practically fled the party.
Escaping the loud noises, flashing lights, and suffocating heat of the crowd, the cool night air felt like a breath of fresh life, unclogging her chest and sobering her senses.
“Is there anything you need, Miss?”
Enjoying the breeze, she turned to see a neatly dressed man—likely the butler—asking politely.
“Where’s the powder room?”
She almost declined, but thought it wise to know the location beforehand.
“This way, please.”
The butler offered to escort her.
Unable to refuse, Elisa followed.
“This is the powder room.”
“Thank you.”
But as she stepped inside, she froze at the sight of someone already seated there.
Jet-black hair, wolf-like grey eyes.
“Welcome, Elisa.”
It was Ethan.
