Estelle Will Not Forgive a Second Time: The Condemned Noble Lady Returns in Elegance to Dance with the Incompetent Prince - Chapter 4

The man had golden hair, yet lacked the radiance and presence of Prince Victor.

Tall, but standing there as though utterly indifferent to the gazes around him, his posture exuded apathy.

His attire was not flashy—muted colors, almost plain.

And yet, the surrounding attendants scrambled to welcome him.

“Heh, so that’s the ‘Incompetent Prince’…”

“They say he’s really useless. No one in the palace expects anything from him.”

Whispers rippled through the hall.

I had heard the same in my previous life—Prince Leonhardt was known far and wide as the “Incompetent Prince.”

But… was that really true?

At the very least, I remembered clearly that just before the end of my life—that wretched conclusion—he had warned me once.

“Be careful of my brother, Victor… He’s not someone you should trust.”

It had been sudden, and I hadn’t taken it seriously.
I’d dismissed it as a baseless, unsolicited warning.

And in the end, I had been drawn into Victor’s scheme and executed—my head severed on the scaffold.

Had I believed Leonhardt’s words, perhaps my fate would have been different.

I no longer believed him to be truly “incompetent.” That label must be a misconception of society.

In the center of the ballroom, Leonhardt stood surrounded by a small cluster of nobles.

From where I watched, his thoughts were unreadable.

Unlike Victor’s soft, shimmering gold hair, Leonhardt’s was a subdued shade—more muted, more refined.

His downcast eyes, often hidden behind that tousled hair, gave him an air of indolence.

“…He really does look indifferent. Avoids eye contact, barely says a word. Hard to believe he’s royalty…”

People around me snickered and whispered.

I stood at a distance, quietly observing the prince who seemed so detached from it all.

It seemed everyone viewed him as the prince no one expected anything of.

Unlike Victor, he wasn’t one to smile and charm the room, captivating the crowd.

Why did he act this way?
Surrounded by low expectations, isolated and alone…

As I pondered, his gaze flicked toward me—
For a moment, our eyes met.

Half-lidded and drowsy though his eyes appeared, I sensed a sharp glint beneath them. It wasn’t my imagination.

…Even though I had only been watching him from afar—he noticed me?

I involuntarily stiffened.
Leonhardt, barely acknowledging the nobles around him, looked away as if nothing had happened.

One of the nobles at his side spoke to him.

“Your Highness Leonhardt, the next piece is about to begin… Will you dance?”

“I’ll pass… No one would want to dance with me anyway.”

His voice was languid, almost lifeless.

He heaved a heavy sigh and turned to leave.

The people around him exchanged tired glances.

“As expected of the Incompetent Prince…”

“Even talking to him is exhausting.”

I couldn’t tell if he was truly as disinterested as he seemed, but clearly no one dared approach him.

But I… I wasn’t like them.

With resolve tightening in my chest, I stepped forward.

I followed as Leonhardt moved toward the corridor.

His words before my death—“Don’t trust my brother.”
That had been a faint ray of light—one that could have saved me.

In this second life, I would not let that light slip away.

“Excuse me, Your Highness Leonhardt. May I trouble you for a moment?”

Amidst the bustle of guests moving to and fro, I called out to his retreating figure.

Leonhardt turned slowly, his expression as drowsy and detached as ever.

Up close, his golden hair was indeed pale—not ostentatious like Victor’s, but soft, with a subtle sheen.

And his eyes—gray, with a depth that suggested a quiet, hidden fire beneath his detached exterior.

“…What is it, Lady Grandier?”

His tone was flat, emotionless.
To anyone else, that would have been the end of the conversation.

But I smiled calmly.

I could feel his eyes quickly flick over my gown, then to my face—analyzing, calculating.

He’s not disinterested. He’s watching everything—playing the role of the apathetic prince.

With that certainty, I stepped closer.

“I noticed Your Highness hasn’t danced tonight… It caught my attention. May I ask—would you honor me as your partner for the next dance?”

Even I knew how bold my request was.

I felt the air around us still.

In society, dancing with the “Incompetent Prince” was seen as undesirable—a mark of wasted effort.

And yet—here I stood, extending my hand.

In my previous life, I probably would’ve thought the same as them.

But now—I’m different.

“You want to dance with me? You have peculiar tastes, Lady Grandier. There’s nothing to gain from dancing with someone like me.”

“Whether there’s anything to gain… we won’t know unless we dance, will we?”

I offered him a faint smile, and for just a moment, Prince Leonhardt returned my gaze with a sharp glint in his eyes.

There was nothing incompetent about that look—quite the opposite.

He was likely trying to discern my true intentions.

“…Sigh. Very well, just for a little while.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.”

I offered a polite bow, and he extended his hand toward me.

Taking it, we stepped onto the floor and began to dance to the rhythm of the music.

Leonhardt averted his gaze, moving with languid detachment, as though he might yawn at any moment.

Around us, nobles eyed us curiously, murmuring among themselves as they drifted away.

After a short pause, I lowered my voice and spoke.

“Your Highness… do you always act that way? Avoiding dances, doing nothing at all?”

“Even if I did something, no one would be pleased. Compared to my brother, I’m considered inferior in every way—and in truth, I suppose I am.”

“…”

His words, delivered with feigned indifference, sounded more like those of a sulking child than a prince.

But to me, this act was nothing more than a mask—the very thing that earned him the name “Incompetent Prince.”

“But I don’t see it that way.”

I spoke plainly, boldly.

He arched a brow, slightly surprised.

“And what makes you say that? Hm… I didn’t expect such words from someone I’m meeting for the first time.”

“My reason? Well… let’s just call it intuition.”

I couldn’t exactly say, “Because in my previous life, you warned me.”

Instead, I smiled and held his gaze.

Though he clung to his air of detachment, I could clearly see hesitation in his eyes.

“Intuition, huh… You’re a strange one, Lady Grandier.”

“Your Highness is the strange one, I’d say. With such fine golden hair, and yet you make no effort to dazzle at all.”

“What’s the point of trying to dazzle? I have no talent. No one expects anything from me. I might as well do as I please.”

His voice was flat, stripped of any hint of passion.

As the music reached its end, we paused and separated, exchanging formal bows.

Leonhardt cast a disinterested glance toward the far corner of the hall.

It was as if to say, “Can I leave now?”

“Thank you for humoring me tonight. I’m honored to have spoken with you.”

“Likewise, Lady Grandier. It was… an honor.”

Leaving those final words behind, Leonhardt quickly turned on his heel and exited the ballroom.

Having exchanged those few words with him, I felt a deep certainty settle within me.

He was not incompetent—not at all.

In those eyes, I saw a hidden strength—something carefully concealed.

He’s hiding something—on purpose.

Before my death, I caught a glimpse of it. And now, I will not let it slip away.

I watched the direction he had gone, then slowly closed my eyes.

That man—branded the “Incompetent Prince”—I will make him my ally.

I won’t fail this time.

With that firm vow in my heart, I gracefully lifted the hem of my dress and stepped forward.

To make my next move.