Gilbert de Rosmund didn't know exactly at what moment his life had taken a wrong turn.
Maybe it was the day he, despite all the risks, ran away from home, leaving his mother and sister to the mercy of the Valentino family?
Or at age six, when he was first told that he would become the fiancé of a lady from the most powerful family in the Empire?
Or perhaps at age three, when his father suddenly died, and the unbearable burden of the heir was placed on his small shoulders?
Or... did it happen at the very moment of his birth, was his entire life doomed from the start?
Gilbert didn't know.
But one thing he knew for certain: right now, something was happening that finally and irrevocably confirmed that his life had turned into a circus. An absurd, insane circus where he played the role of the clown.
Before him, on the bench, sat the person he feared most in the world.
Dahlia Valentino.
His former fiancée. (Though formally — still his current one. But these were such minor details that he tried not to think about.)
She stubbed out her cigarette on the sole of her boot — neatly, without unnecessary noise — and tossed the butt into the trash bin standing three meters away. She hit it perfectly. Without even looking.
Gilbert, still on his knees, didn't dare to stand up without permission. He froze like a naughty dog and waited for his mistress to deign to notice him.
Finally, Dahlia turned to him. Her grey eyes — cold, perceptive, boding no good — stared directly into his soul.
"Last time, I gave you study materials," she said. "Did you even open them?"
"O-of course!" Gilbert blurted out, feeling cold sweat run down his back. "Everything you gave me, I read from cover to cover! Every word!"
"Then why was your acting so disgusting?" Dahlia's voice held only icy disappointment. "It looked completely unconvincing."
"I... I tried my best..."
"Don't make me regret making a deal with you," Dahlia interrupted. "Or have you forgotten who got you into this academy in the first place?"
Gilbert swallowed and lowered his head.
He hadn't forgotten.
He couldn't possibly forget.
It was Dahlia Valentino who had paid for his education at Arden Academy. And it was she who had arranged his "new life" under a false name.
How had it all turned out this way?
Gilbert himself couldn't fully understand it...
And yet, the fact remained.
Right now, this madness was actually happening to him.
And if this story ever became public knowledge, it would undoubtedly shock the entire empire.
"...Your Grace," Gilbert gathered his courage and looked up. "May I ask you a question?"
Dahlia narrowed her eyes.
"Speak."
"Why... why do I have to play this particular role?"
"Hmm?"
"What I mean is," Gilbert hesitated, searching for words, "couldn't you have found someone more suitable for this role than me?"
He had to play the villain.
The villain who humiliated the poor commoner. The villain who prevented the "two lovers" from being together. The villain whom the audience was supposed to hate with all their heart.
And although this role was the price for the "service" Dahlia had rendered him, Gilbert couldn't understand why the choice had fallen on him. He — a person who as a child was afraid to hurt even a fly. He — soft, cowardly, incapable of saying a rude word to a stranger. He — the complete opposite of what he needed to play.
Dahlia had given him "textbooks" — collections of second-rate romance novels from which he was supposed to copy the behavior and mannerisms of typical villains. Gilbert had read them all. From cover to cover. He had approached this task with such seriousness, as if his life depended on it.
But, judging by Dahlia's reaction, his efforts weren't enough.
"Because you are the most suitable candidate," Dahlia replied, and a strange smile played on her lips.
"What?" Gilbert didn't understand.
"You're her brother," she explained. "Rose has a kind heart. She will feel guilty if her brother causes trouble for another, innocent person."
Gilbert blinked.
"A kind heart"?
Were they talking about his sister?
The same sister who, upon meeting him, promised to sell him into slavery?
The same sister who threatened to cut out his tongue and feed it to the dogs?
The same sister who promised to lay him to rest in the family crypt next to their grandmother?
Gilbert opened his mouth to object but bit his tongue in time.
Arguing with Dahlia Valentino was more trouble than it was worth.
"Understood," was all he said.
Dahlia nodded with satisfaction and suddenly... took a plastic bag out of her bag.
Gilbert watched with surprise as she carefully, almost ritually, put the half-eaten sandwich left over from his sister's lunch into it.
From the outside, this scene resembled the collection of evidence at a crime scene.
"Your Grace," Gilbert asked cautiously. "What are you doing?"
Dahlia frowned but answered:
"This is the sandwich Rose didn't finish. I'm taking it with me."
Gilbert was dumbfounded.
"But... why?"
"I'm going to keep it."
Gilbert blinked. Once. Twice. Three times.
His brain refused to process the information.
"Keep it?" he repeated, hoping he had misheard. "But... it will go bad."
"I'll use ice magic. I'll freeze it."
"..."
"When I get home, I'll make an exhibit out of it. I'll put it in a frame and hang it on the wall."
Gilbert opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.
Not a single sound escaped.
He understood. Although he should have understood long ago.
Dahlia Valentino wasn't just strange. She was obsessed.
Obsessed enough to keep half-eaten sandwiches of the objects of her... interest. Who probably didn't wash her hand for several days after shaking hands with the person she was fond of.
Gilbert felt sick.
"Your Grace," he forced out. "Are the Duke and Duchess... are they aware of what's going on?"
Dahlia looked at him as if he had asked something completely obvious.
"What do you think?"
"I..."
"Use your brain," she cut him off. "If they didn't know anything, would I have been able to pull all this off so smoothly?"
A chill ran down Gilbert's spine.
He understood.
The Duke and Duchess Valentino weren't just "aware." They were accomplices.
They were helping their daughter bring this insane plan to life. And, apparently, they were also covering for her and encouraging her.
Gilbert had heard rumors that the Valentinos doted on their only daughter. That they never denied her anything. That Dahlia had grown up without any restrictions being placed on her.
But this... this was beyond belief.
This wasn't just indulging whims. This was complicity in illegal actions. Forgery of documents. Financing an escape. A crime, after all!
And all so that Dahlia could get closer to her goal.
To his sister.
Gilbert felt the ground disappear from under his feet.
"I have to go," Dahlia said, standing up. "I hope I won't have to repeat myself twice."
"Yes, Your Grace," Gilbert forced out.
Dahlia left.
Gilbert was alone.
He slowly rose from his knees, feeling his legs had gone numb. He looked in the direction where the figure of his former fiancée had disappeared and couldn't understand one thing.
What was all this for?
All these insane plans, spy games, forged documents, threats, and blackmail...
What for?
Why was Dahlia Valentino — the heiress of the most powerful house in the Empire, a beauty predicted to have a brilliant future — so obsessed with his older sister?!
Gilbert simply couldn't understand it.