Chapter 1.2

“Is something the matter?” he asked.

His voice, smooth and even, made her chest flutter.

She gazed at him, memorizing every angle.

That handsome face… it wasn’t fair. Deep-set eyes, a sharp nose, and full, pale lips. Whenever those lips curved into even the faintest smile, Rosaline forgot how to breathe.

But it was his eyes she loved most.

Those impossibly vivid blue eyes. On some days, they were clear and endless like an autumn sky. On others, they were shadowed and deep like the sea at night.

That day, sunlight streamed through the glass walls, reflecting in his eyes. She couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“I like you.”

The words, fragile as her own heart, rolled between them like marbles across a floor.

Rosaline flushed. Synox stood still, unreadable, then finally spoke.

“Miss Rensier, it is your sister whom I hold in my heart.”

“I know.”

Of course she knew. Everything about him was tethered to Aria.

The reason he studied medicine despite his other research. Even the glass greenhouse at House Rensier—built so one could always enjoy spring weather—was born of his devotion to Aria.

Did Aria even know how deeply this man loved her?

Rosaline doubted it. People rarely recognize what they assume will always be theirs.

Synox studied her quietly, then stepped back.

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.”

Rosaline’s heart sank. She reached for him, grabbing his fingertips.

“But you can’t be with my sister, my lord.”

Aria was of marrying age, but she showed no interest in courtship. Her health made even daily life a struggle, let alone love or political unions.

Rosaline should’ve pitied her. But instead, she’d said it out loud. That Aria couldn’t give him what he wanted.

If she had to justify it, she’d call it desperation. But really, it was pure selfishness.

If Aria couldn’t have him, why shouldn’t I?

Was love always this vile and selfish? Rosaline wondered, but she didn’t linger on the answer. Not when he was standing right there.

“Don’t you think I look like her?”

In truth, they did resemble each other.

Aria’s expression was always soft, her presence gentle. Rosaline’s was colder, sharper. But they shared the same bright blond curls, delicate frames, pale skin.

Of course Synox could tell them apart, but there was one thing Aria could never give him.

And one thing Rosaline could offer, even if she’d never have his heart.

“I’m not asking for your love, my lord.”

“…”

“Just let me have your body. You could never be with my sister like that, could you, my lord?”

His brow furrowed.

Disgust. She was sure of it. What kind of sister made such an offer to the man in love with her sibling?

He was probably torn between shoving her away and exposing the vulgarity of it all, or pretending nothing happened and preserving the peace.

Rosaline hated herself for seeing his hesitation as an opening.

But her heart had already tipped into moral ruin, and her mind was racing for a way to keep him.

That day, Rosaline wore a summer dress of truly sheer fabric. Something so light and revealing that delicate Aria could never have risked wearing it.

She reached for his hand, slowly guiding it to her chest.