Chapter 12
The dinner proceeded without incident. Fortunately, nothing happened that would have severely compromised the dignity my father had worried about.
After everyone finished eating and the maid brought out the desserts, the empress asked casually,
“Miss Rose seemed to have been avoiding marriage until now. Has there been a change of heart?”
Her green eyes sparkled with delight, and she couldn’t even hide the constant twitch of her lips.
I repeated to her exactly what I had told Demian.
“I realized that I felt lonely as I reached marriageable age, and I also wanted to start a family of my own.”
“Hmm, indeed. The young lady has reached the age for such thoughts.”
Her reply was so dull that her lips immediately flattened. She scanned me with her eyes—from the crown of my head to the tips of my fingers lightly resting on the cutlery.
The empress ended the conversation somewhat abruptly.
“I wondered when the two of you would start a family. Now, you can even set an example for the citizens of the empire.”
She added unnecessarily,
“Your mother would be pleased as well.”
When mentioning my mother, the empress looked at my father with a smile. Sitting beside him, I noticed his arm twitch slightly.
What is going on between the adults? Mother simply passed away from illness.
I was curious, but nothing else happened after that.
The emperor silently took a bite of the panna cotta in front of him. He had shown no interest in the meal, speaking no words throughout.
As the attendants filled each person’s wine glass, he offered a perfunctory toast,
“May this union grow as steadfast as the future of the empire.”
A very formal toast. I responded with a short nod and took a sip.
Both Demian’s and my father’s gaze lingered on my face briefly before moving away.
My usually expressionless father turned his head and gave a gentle smile, tapping his fingers very slightly.
‘Indeed.’
Dignity, the etiquette befitting a member of the imperial family.
I raised the corners of my mouth while looking at my father.
When the uncomfortable dinner ended, Demian came to see me off as we returned to the estate.
“I shall come visit soon.”
“Yes. I’ll be waiting.”
Exchanging lingering glances like sticky caramel, I got back into the carriage with my father.
Even inside the carriage, smiling continuously made my cheek muscles twitch as if they were going into spasm.
“Do you enjoy this so much?”
“Pardon?”
I couldn’t answer immediately when my father asked the question.
Looking up, I saw his brows furrowed.
He quickly composed his expression and spoke calmly.
“You are to be the crown princess, so always maintain proper conduct.”
“Yes, Father.”
What was that displeased look he made earlier?
There’s a saying that stern fathers often secretly regret their daughter’s marriage the most.
But the duke wouldn’t be like that. After all, it was the head of the family—my father—who approved this marriage.
Still, just now…
I pretended to look out the window while sneaking a glance at my father’s reflection in the glass.
Could it be that Father dislikes the imperial family?
Our family, loyal to the emperor for generations, hating the imperial house?
‘If Father dislikes Demian…’
A poisoned wine flashed in my mind. It’s probably just a worry, but somehow I felt I couldn’t ignore it.
I’d better keep it in mind. One never knows how past tragedies affecting loved ones might influence the present.
Preparing for the wedding was incredibly difficult. There seemed to be no time even to breathe or blink.
Top artisans from every field kept arriving at our house, and I honestly changed dresses hundreds of times.
‘Spending this much energy here…’
It felt unfair, but no matter how carefully I chose, I couldn’t skip anything that looked different when actually worn.
<This is the dress for the first day’s ceremony, this one for the third day’s banquet…>
Even at night, the designers’ chatter kept echoing in my head.
Demian seemed to be in the same situation. Despite promising to visit soon, he hadn’t been able to show his face at the duke’s mansion.
The tone of his occasional letters was gentle, but the content betrayed his exhaustion.
[The date draws near, and I am delighted.
With love, your Demian]
Yet the ending was always the same. I would read his letters twice before putting them in the drawer, curious if he had undergone any change of heart or realized something.
‘I want to call Estelle once before all the designers leave.’
Estelle had not been able to come to the duke’s mansion.
Not only were the artisans coming, but visitors eager to make their presence known after the marriage announcement had increased, so we decided to protect Estelle.
Some visitors were slyly eyeing Theo’s side.
Others thought Estelle was to marry Theo, which was equally threatening.
Theo seemed to be withering from it, but there was nothing to be done.
Instead, Estelle received letters daily, which were mostly like this:
[I really miss you, but I’ll endure and wait! You know I truly love you, right?]
Filled with congratulations and shared memories, reading them often made me giggle, sometimes causing those around me to mistake the letters as being from Demian.
Each time, I would nod casually and pass the letter to Theo.
On nights when the artisans finally left and I had some free time, I would reread my diary.
Strangely, the diary had been blank since the dispatch.
So I organized the useful parts and memorized them thoroughly, enough to recall them instantly without the diary.
‘Just in case I need to destroy it.’
For now, there were three differences between the novel and the diary:
Estelle’s scar, the order of the poisoning incident, and Estelle’s saintly awakening process.
The last two couldn’t be verified until they occurred. Even if the story followed the novel or diary, it could still be different now.
Because I’m not the “real Rosalyn.”
But the scar was different.
I had to somehow call Estelle before the wedding to check.
While I was pondering this, the perfect opportunity arrived. Four days before the wedding, the Duke of Lethe’s family was hosting a charity ball.
It was a large event my father would attend, and all our guests would be there. I could use the wedding as an excuse to decline, making it the perfect chance.
Just as I thought I should write to Estelle, someone knocked on my door.
“A letter from the palace, Princess.”
The letter was from Demian. Contrary to his promise to visit soon, he apologized for the wait and asked if he could meet today.
My eyebrows shot up automatically. I couldn’t show reluctance.
I decided to write the reply later, handing a note with my consent to the royal messenger.
“Please deliver this response.”
The messenger bowed and left. Silence fell heavily after the door closed.
‘…I don’t want to.’
I wrote that I wanted to meet Demian outside, neither at the palace nor the duke’s mansion.
I didn’t want to face the emperor and empress at the palace, nor Demian and Theo at our estate.
‘I can just say I want to enjoy sightseeing before becoming the empress.’
He would agree silently—that was the kind of person he was.
Soon after, the messenger returned with a message.
“His Highness said he will come in three hours.”
The crown prince himself would escort me. As soon as the words left my mind, the maids rushed in to prepare me for the outing.
“Three hours is short!”
“Princess, let’s start with the bath.”
The messenger was promptly sent out, and I was guided smoothly into the bathroom.
A little later, while brushing my hair, the maids chattered like sparrows.
“What should we do, we don’t want to let our princess go!”
“No matter if it’s the crown prince, if he acts rudely, we won’t allow it!”
There was no chance of that. I just smiled quietly.
Reluctantly, the maids chose a purple dress resembling the crown prince’s eye color.
As I dressed and adjusted my hair, the head maid informed me of Demian’s arrival.
“It’s time to go, Miss.”
Following her, I stepped outside.
The corridor windows were all open, and the late-summer breeze was quite chilly.
I carefully descended the stairs, heading to the carriage with the attendants.
The sky seemed higher than usual, and the air carried the scent of dry grass.
In the distance, a shadowy figure stood by the carriage.
He smiled silently and reached out his hand. I returned a gentle smile and held it.
Once escorted into the carriage, he asked,
“Rosalyn, is there anywhere you particularly wish to go?”
His purple eyes studied me quietly. I fidgeted with my hands instead of answering.
Well, I’d like somewhere to sightsee casually or just sit and rest.
Is there a good place nearby?
