1 Our first encounter

I'd shout if I could... But that would be a terrible waste of my voice. I, Eliana Devensian, the only daughter of Grand Duke Matthew Devensian, am now bound to a chair and on the verge of being murdered by my fiancée, Heinley Briggs.

He had a very pregnant mistress by his side as they made out in our room right in front of me. All I could do was observe and listen to what was going on around me. At the time, I hoped time could be turned back and I could have avoided being connected with him, but I was too late and that was my reality.

It all started a year ago when I met him in the royal palace for the first time. He was dressed elegantly in a navy-blue habit à la française that accentuated his light white well-built figure. While chatting with the other males, his steely blue eyes cast a brief glimpse at me. He was flawless, and any lady would fall head over heels for him. I, too, was an outlier.

Every year, the emperor would host a memorial service for his late daughter, Princess Melia, who died at the age of nine from an illness for which no Imperial physicians claimed to have a treatment. Our family never missed a single event, but what struck me the most was the fact that I had never met such a man before. What was his name? I had no choice but to go and find out for myself.

I did the most daring act I'd ever done in my life. I approached him since I was inquisitive about him and a little bit interested in him. I straightened my hair, got a glass of champagne, and approached him. I absolutely had to have him. I could already imagine him placing a ring on my finger. He was the finest spouse candidate, and why would I let my fish go? If it's hooked, it's hooked.

"Good day, gentlemen. I hope I am not bothering you."

He was in a group of five men, and as soon as I spoke, they all turned and stared at me. The other four men had the look of a predator aimed at its prey. I, on the other hand, was fixated on my target.

"Good afternoon to you, Your Highness. Certainly, you are not bothering us." One of the men stated as he bent his head nicely.

The rest bowed briefly as well, but my gaze remained locked on my objective. I was dying within to find out what his name was. His beautiful auburn hair, wrapped up in a sloppy bun, sparkled as soon as the sun hit it. I couldn't help but admire his chiseled features. He, too, noticed my excessive gazing, but I tried to engage in their discussion in order not to appear weird.

"How is the hunt for the missing youngsters going, Sir Peterson?" I had to tread gently when I asked, "Is there any change?"

"There have been no fresh developments in the case of the missing children, Your Highness. The royal knights are currently investigating."

As I turned to face the man who had just answered my inquiry, I raised an eyebrow. "And who could you be?"

"Please accept my greetings, Your Highness. Heinley Briggs is my given name. Marquess Harland Espada's son." He came up behind me, grabbed my hand, and bent down to kiss the back of it. He was so self-assured and bold that the others were taken aback.

As soon as his lips touched my satin gloves, I could feel my cheeks flush and my skin tingle. I had finally gotten his name, and organizing a marriage wouldn't be difficult as long as I utilized my charm appropriately. He was indescribably gorgeous now that I was staring at him up close.

He glanced up at me as though flirting with me, but I swiftly drew my hand away. My reaction was uncalled for, and he seemed perplexed as he straightened himself up. Why did I fling myself into the water if I couldn't swim?

"Please pardon my impertinence, Lord Heinley. If I may inquire, why is your surname different from the late marquess'?" I gently inquired.

The other men stared at him with interest, waiting for his response. To be honest, I was intrigued as well. I was eager to learn more about him and get to know him better. He replied nicely, "It's because I'm his bastard kid," with a twisted yet serene smile on his face.

"Oh, no surprise you weren't involved in any social activities." Sir Peterson remarked with his hand on his chin.

Perhaps I should have avoided asking the question in the first place. He didn't appear at ease answering an unexpected inquiry. Sir Peterson didn't appear to know either, but the issue is, how did he get so close to the knights so quickly? He chatted nonchalantly about the knights as if he were a knight himself. At the very least, I should ask him this.

I took a little sip from my glass and returned my eyes to Heinley, who was feigning a grin. He was far too blatant. Count Millan, Sir Andrew, and Baron Rogers, the other three men, mumbled to themselves as if they had overheard a secret.

"I sincerely apologize, Lord Heinley, for my erroneous inquiry. I genuinely hope I did not insult you in any way." Seeing how upset he was, I said apologetically.

The four men were taken aback by my comment, and Heinley began to open his lips. "Your Gra―"

"Eliana, why are you apologizing?" Behind me, an enraged voice screamed. When I looked around, I noticed my father approaching us. "Who among you has forced my daughter to apologize?"

Oh, how I wanted a hole would simply open up and I could crawl in and conceal myself. Everyone knew how overprotective my father was of me. I did my best to interact with the men in front of me, no matter how uncomfortable I made them. My darling angel kept staring at me, and that's when I saw him smiling differently than he had a few minutes before.

"No one made Her Highness unhappy, Grand Duke Matthew. We're just talking to your lovely daughter." Count Millan said as he placed his glass on a tray carried by a passing server.

"You fool! You think I don't see how impolite you are with the ladies?" My father turned around and tenderly stroked both of my flushed cheeks, "Did these terrible bastards do or say anything horrible to you?"

The Count shuddered and requested another glass of red wine from one of the servers. Sir Peterson and the other three were entertained by a performance about a parent being overdramatic. I caught a glance of Heinley and noticed how hard he was trying to hide his laughing. He was quite attractive.

"It's quite the contrary, papa," I remarked as I placed both of my hands on his. "I was the one who was being disrespectful to one of these gentlemen, and I was sorry for it."

I turned and curtsied at the men before leaving hand in hand with my father. I couldn't stay in their company any longer since my father would have made the worst of the situation. That was something I did not desire.

With my hand still in my father's, we proceeded towards the royal palace's garden. He was upset, which came as no surprise to me because he was doing his best to be a good parent to me, and juggling the duties of father and mother has not been easy. So, how could I pass judgment on him?

"Talk to me, papa, why are you still upset?" I inquired cautiously because, given how quiet he was, I felt compelled to break the stillness.

He released our arms softly and gave me a strange look. "Eli, what were you doing with those men?"

"What do you mean, Papa?" Perplexed by his unexpected inquiry, I responded.

My father grumbled and rubbed his beard. "To be honest, none of the men I saw you approaching today appeal to me."

"Papa!" I blushed and looked around to see whether we had been heard.

"Well, I could award Sir Peterson a few points because he is a knight, but the rest, I don't think so." As his mouth curled upwards, he proceeded to say. "So, if I were you, I'd go after the knight."

"You do remember how we left them, don't you?" I groaned.

"I put on a spectacle for the ages, my darling."

"No, papa, you were being far too theatrical. Despite the fact that I am impressed by how much your acting abilities have improved."

My father chuckled, then gently tugged my ear, seeming to be irritated by my remark. "How can your father's parenting be called acting?"

I chuckled as well since, at the very least, the furious emotion he had a few minutes ago had vanished. His smile was all I wanted to see all the time. My father, my gentle and caring father.