Chapter 9

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The carriage set off.

Opposite her, a man sat, and a fresh wave of anger subsided as reality sunk in.

Sharing a carriage with a stranger she hardly knew. Such an impulsive act was unlike her.

Still. That man was just as odd. Swiftly fetching the carriage at the suggestion to go to the imperial palace with a woman he barely knew.

Yet, despite all that, she felt strangely at ease with him. Perhaps it was his thoughtful actions. He had even lent her a robe when they left the coffee house. No one must have known that she was Princess Adel Madeline.

Olivia touched the black robe covering her knees, and again her mind was filled with the bouquet and card.

Gifts impersonating Leopold. So many flowers and gifts, enough to fill an entire room.

How dare, who. What could be the purpose? Who had impersonated the honorable Crown Prince?

How dare someone.

To make light of Madeline, and of me?

"Take this."

"What?"

In the blink of an eye, the man held out a purple velvet box.

Olivia, who had taken the box in surprise, paused for a moment.

"Where did this come from?"

"Well, inside this carriage?"

"What is this?"

"Open it, and you'll see."

With an inscrutable smile, the man escaped her question. Confused by his wordplay, Olivia opened the box. Inside the box was.

"Gloves?"

Olivia muttered, captivated by the unique and pretty design.

Woven lace sparkled whenever it caught the light.

Cough, cough, the man cleared his throat. Looking up from the gloves, Olivia met his eyes, and the man winked at her playfully.

"This should prove that I don't take my words lightly. If it's something valuable, I have it all, just say the word."

A gift, perhaps? Olivia was about to put on the gloves, smirking, when she noticed a scratch on the back of her hand.

Could he have seen it?

Quickly, Olivia put on the gloves. She had been worried about the size, but her hand slipped into the glove perfectly. It was as if it was tailored just for her.

As she held up her hand to admire the glove, she noticed the man over her fingers. Their eyes met, and an inexplicable feeling overcame Olivia, so she closed her fingers.

The man's gaze remained on her, though unseen, and it continued to linger.

Before long, the carriage turned onto the road to the imperial palace. Instead of the bustling streets, the sturdy walls and the armed imperial knights met Olivia's gaze, and she spoke in a soft voice.

"Let me off a little distance from the gate."

"As you wish."

The man relayed Olivia's request through a small window connecting to the coachman's seat, and the carriage headed toward a spot a little away from the royal gate. Gradually slowing down, the carriage stopped.

It was neither too close nor too far to walk to the gate.

Without being asked, the man pulled his robe's hood down fully, obscuring his face. Thus, he looked like a knight of the family.

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