Six years had passed since Hazel Langbelle Easton entered the aristocratic society.

She was known as the sole spinster of the Easton family, for she viewed marriage as nothing but a tomb for a woman.

Hazel had always been confident that no man in this world could make her heart beat with passion.

Yet someone once said:

[God is exceedingly cunning; He does not favor humans who assert with absolute certainty that something could never happen. Thus, the moment a person declares with conviction that a thing is impossible, events take an unexpected turn, leading precisely to the occurrence of that very thing.]

Hazel placed her hand on her forehead, gazing at the handsome man seated before her.

A woman indifferent to marriage, an outcast in aristocratic society, often pointed at as a black raven, a harbinger of ill fortune.

In contrast, Theodore Caron Bernier, the most renowned bachelor and the finest suitor in the entire kingdom.

Never had Hazel imagined that he might ask for her hand in marriage…

“Would you do me the honor of marrying me, Miss Hazel?”

Thump. Thump.

Hazel’s heart pounded fiercely.

With a single, simple phrase, Theodore had managed to make her heart tremble.

She parted her lips slightly, clutching her chest as her heartbeat quickened from the sheer shock.

How could Duke Theodore possibly ask for her hand in marriage?

It was nothing short of a shock to her.

But it was not, by any means, a joyful shock.

(Description taken from moonlightnovel.com)