At the event, the noble ladies buzzed with curiosity about who had created tonight's remarkable new perfume, curiosity filling the entire hall. Gina appeared in a stunning blue gown with a mysterious half mask covering her face, drawing every eye in the room. She personally poured the perfume into a tower of glasses, its unique scent instantly captivating everyone present.
The curious crowd speculated wildly. Some guessed that she must be a noblewoman hiding her identity. Others sneered that she was probably just an ugly country girl too ashamed to show her face. A red-haired noblewoman laughed disdainfully and loudly demanded that she remove her mask to prove whether she was truly worthy of noble status.
Gina calmly replied, openly admitting that she came from a small town and had no noble lineage to speak of. The red-haired woman, with a sharp, cutting gaze, sneered that it was precisely because of the maker's lowly origins that the perfume gave off such a cheap scent.
Unshaken, Gina replied evenly that the true measure of a scent's worth was not its expensive ingredients, but its ability to touch the heart of whoever experienced it. She declared that her purpose was to use fragrance to heal wounded souls, and pointedly implied that it was in fact uncultured behaviour that truly made a person cheap.
The crowd around them began to whisper, realising that the troublemaker was none other than Lady Lilia of the Earl's family, notorious for her obsessive one-sided love and her controlling nature towards the crown prince. Humiliated by having some country nobody lecture her in front of everyone, Lilia flew into a rage, shrieking, "Who do you think I am?" and swung her hand to deliver a thunderous slap across Gina's face.
But before that vicious hand could land, it was caught midair by another, firmer hand. Lilia was horrified to realise that the one who had seized her wrist was none other than Crown Prince Cecil. The prince's sudden appearance sent shockwaves through the entire hall, while Gina stood rooted to the spot, her heart pounding wildly in her chest at the sight of her ex-husband standing right in front of her.
Cecil shot Lilia a chillingly cold look, demanding to know by what right she dared question his personal comings and goings, leaving her trembling and stammering excuses. Unwilling to waste any more words on such an arrogant woman, his gaze turning as sharp as a blade, Cecil delivered one short but crushing line, ordering Lilia to vanish from his sight immediately.
Lilia fled so fast that she practically left her shoes behind, leaving Gina standing there in a cold sweat. She silently lamented her rotten luck. She had only just escaped him that morning, and now here she was, running into him again in this ironic twist of a situation.
Cecil slowly stepped closer, gently taking the perfume bottle that had caused the whole altercation, studying the object in his hand with careful attention. He turned to look at the mysterious masked woman, remarking with pointed meaning that the perfume she had created carried an extraordinarily distinctive scent, as though it stirred something in him.
Gina panicked completely, her pupils dilating behind the mask, her mind fixed on a single thought. She had to find a way to slip away before he discovered her true identity. But before she could even take a step, Cecil's warm, low voice rang out, holding her in place. He expressed his wish to buy the perfume bottle, unwittingly trapping Gina in an impossible dilemma with no way out.
Cecil asked the woman before him whether his intense, overbearing presence was frightening her. Gina trembled with worry beneath her veil as Cecil, sounding uncertain, asked whether it seemed as though they had perhaps met somewhere before. She hastily bowed her head and denied it, claiming that she was merely a lowly commoner who had been startled and had behaved improperly under the prince's overwhelming presence.
Gina firmly refused to sell the perfume bottle to Cecil, her hand trembling from the tension of facing her ex-husband directly. Cecil refused to accept such an unreasonable refusal, pressing closer and demanding to know exactly why she was so adamant about not selling him the product.
Backed into a corner, Gina desperately challenged him. If he could guess the most important floral ingredient in it, she would sell it to him — hoping this demand would make him give up. She was certain that even if he guessed correctly, she would simply find another excuse to refuse, determined not to let the bottle fall into his hands.
Cecil replied, his sharp gaze seeming to see straight through her as he prepared to answer the challenge. He casually uttered a single name: South African orchid.
Gina froze in shock, her pupils dilating in astonishment that he still remembered that particular scent, a scent tied to a precious memory.
Memories rushed back to that cold political marriage, a time when the two of them had only shared a bed on their wedding night before living apart like complete strangers. However, Gina suddenly recalled the one exception — a rare, fleeting moment when the two of them had grown close, breaking through their usual cold distance.
Back then, Gina had been happily harvesting flowers in the garden to make a sachet, wondering to herself whether this small gift would please him. Cecil had suddenly appeared from behind, asking what she was doing, making Gina jump in fright. Flustered, she hid the sachet like a child caught doing something wrong, stammering a greeting to the prince, surprised that she had not heard his footsteps at all. As she stumbled off balance, a firm hand reached out to steady her.
Noticing his wife's suspiciously flustered behaviour, Cecil curiously stepped closer and pressed her for the reason she was out here. She told him she was preparing a special gift. Proudly, she held out her basket of flowers, showing off her achievement — flowers she had grown and tended herself, now blooming so vibrantly. He stared at her dumbfounded while she scolded herself inwardly for rambling on about things that had nothing to do with him.
Caught up in her fluster, she did not notice that he had suddenly seen her hand was scraped and bleeding slightly. He asked with concern, but she only laughed it off, insisting it was nothing. Without a word, he gently used magic to heal the wound on her hand, a soft glow radiating from his fingers as it soothed away the pain. He kindly told her not to do such rough physical labour, work meant for servants, his own concern making Cecil himself blush with embarrassment. Once he was done, Cecil told her to go and rest in her room, his gaze lingering on her retreating figure, full of unspoken emotion and longing.
Suddenly a violent wave of pain from the curse struck him. Cecil clutched his chest and collapsed, his face twisting in unbearable agony. Hearing the strange commotion, Gina spun around in alarm, crying out his name as she saw her husband collapse to the ground. She rushed to catch him, and Cecil, his voice weak, asked her to take him to a private room at once, insisting, "No one must find out."
Night fell, the room sinking into darkness and tense silence as Cecil struggled against the pain. Gina anxiously asked where it hurt, her trembling hand touching him with deep concern and sympathy. Cecil warned her of the consequences if word of his condition ever reached her father, forcing her to keep it an absolute secret. Gina swore on her honour that she would never breathe a word of it, insisting that her only wish was to serve and protect His Highness.
The excruciating headache tormented Cecil relentlessly. Gina stood beside him, deeply worried, trying to find some way to help. She suddenly remembered that the South African orchid was the most effective remedy for headaches that she knew of. Gina explained that the flower's fragrance had powerful calming and pain-relieving properties that could help ease his suffering. In his delirium, Cecil murmured that if only she were not a daughter of the Yale family, he would never fall in love with her.
Watching him drift off to sleep, she softly called his name, her heart heavy with feelings she could never voice aloud. Half asleep, Cecil took her hand and complimented the red birthmark on it, calling it beautiful, making Gina blush, her heart pounding. She silently confessed to herself that her heart had belonged to him completely ever since the day he saved her by the banks of the Namco River, when she was twelve years old. Recalling his promise never to hurt her, Gina embraced her sleeping husband, quietly accepting her one-sided love in silence.
The next morning, Cecil woke to find himself alone, a sachet in his hand, and was struck with surprise by the note left behind. Reading Gina's thoughtful, caring words, Cecil felt a stirring of emotion, the image of his gentle wife rising up in his mind.