It was from that night.
The relationship between Killian and Rowena, which had been like walking on fragile straws, had changed completely.
For Rowena, who had declared herself completely defeated, Killian had become more generous and gentle than ever.
Every day they would go to sleep together, and she would wake up the next day to find freshly picked flowers in the empty seat with satin ribbons placed on them like a gift.
Day and night, the renowned designers of famous dressing rooms would come and go, and the reputed jewelers would walk in and out of the castle bridge.
When she began to seriously eat well and sleep well, Rowena’s faded beauty unfolded again like a flower in full bloom.
Her cheeks, which had been so thin, became plump, and her eyes, which had been so lifeless, became more cheerful.
Her voice, small and weak like that of an old woman, gradually changed to a nightingale in the middle of spring.
Her body, which had barely avoided becoming a skeleton, regained its former sleek and delicate curves.
Unlike Melissa, who was already familiar with her, Joanne, who was also taking care of Rowena alongside her, rubbed her eyes several times a day to see if she was the same girl as before.
But no matter how many times she rubbed her eyes, the thin and gaunt woman disappeared like a crescent moon, leaving only a woman full of life, kindness, and charm.
On the eve of the masquerade ball, her beauty reached its peak.
In the spacious banquet hall filled with beautiful melodies, the invited nobles were enjoying a happy and harmonious time.
The main focus of the banquet was by far the young men and women.
Ladies adorned their hair with fresh flowers in the middle of winter, disguised as fairies or women from an ancient tragic history.
And then there were the gentlemen, who brushed their hair back without a single flaw and wore all black tails to match their respective themes.
Joanne looked blankly at them as they danced and exchanged silent secret signals and then turned her face away.
The most prominent figures among the group were the Duke of Devonshire and his mistress, the host, and organizer of the banquet, who were as gorgeous as a ducal couple should be.
Miss Philone was by far the most attractive among the beautifully dressed women.
After talking to people for a while, she led the Duke to the main hall.
Rowena was the goddess herself in a masterpiece, wearing a pure white dress and a tiara carved with red rubies that looked like butterflies.
The orchestra on the balcony began to play slowly.
The music was ethereal and sensual.
Rowena, who had stepped to the lead, bent her hips like a flexible tree branch and hugged his neck, as if she was going to embrace his chest again.