Chapter 7
Morning came. Isilia rose from her bed.
Sensing the maids nervously watching her, she dismissed them.
She would not attend the event today. …She was allowed at least that level of indulgence.
She turned her head away. She had no appetite.
Skipping her meal, she simply sat still.
El and Johan had been sent last night to Countess Agnes’ estate.
She couldn’t let them see any of this.
Rumors could not be prevented, nor could they be contained.
All she could do was make sure the children never heard them… so she sent them to the safest place.
Her father—startled by the sudden visit—took the children in.
He still didn’t know.
Whatever her brother and the Crown Prince had done, her father hadn’t realized anything.
Everything would end today anyway.
Even if only a few people were invited, there was no such thing as a perfect secret.
“…….”
Isilia remembered Arwin’s displeased expression when she had told the children,
“Just for one day, stay at your grandfather’s house.”
Then she had fled the place.
What was my wedding like…?
Isilia stood up and walked toward the window.
Servants bustled about.
Far in the distance, carriages headed toward the Endrians estate.
She turned away.
There was no benefit in staying here.
She needed somewhere hidden from servants’ and nobles’ eyes.
“…….”
I should go to the garden.
The grass flattened beneath her feet.
She tread carefully, but grass was fragile—too delicate to withstand her steps.
She sat down.
The garden, located behind the mansion, was a place she and Luiyan often visited with the children.
She had been here recently, with her.
[Nice to meet you, madam. I am Marillian von Inderick.]
At first, she considered killing her.
When the woman smiled, accepting the offered handshake without hesitation, that was the thought that crossed Isilia’s mind.
…The red hair flickered in her vision.
No doubt she would shine more brilliantly than anyone today.
Isilia lowered her hand and snapped small flowers, tying them together.
As the petals formed a circle, she smiled faintly.
[Will that really be enough?]
[I like this.]
[But the ladies might laugh at it. Today… you’re the bride.]
He had woven the flowers he bought into a crown and placed it on her head.
Holding the bouquet he prepared, wearing the flowers he bought just for her—
he had smiled so happily.
She remembered it clearly:
Luiyan’s helpless expression watching her,
and her own young face smiling up at him.
[It’s your one and only chance to wear a tiara. Flower crowns can be worn anytime.]
Only royalty could wear tiaras.
Except once—for a wedding.
Seventeen-year-old Isilia had laughed.
What did that matter? she whispered shyly.
He hadn’t smiled, so she leaned close and whispered something.
Those widened sky-colored eyes… had never looked more beautiful.
“…….”
Her vision blurred.
She lifted her hand and touched her cheek.
The tears falling felt unfamiliar, as if she were seeing them for the first time.
Awkwardly, she lifted the crooked flower crown and placed it on her head.
The shy, laughing girl of seventeen… no longer existed.
She lifted her head.
Looking toward the noisy hall, Isilia smiled.
Once she realized what was running down her cheeks, her throat closed up.
The pain became sound.
That winter when she was seventeen—
the emotions she had locked away burst like a broken dam.
Everything she had built over five years—
blood, sweat, and pride to live as the perfect duchess—
Collapsed.
Just like that.
So absurdly easily.
“…….”
Her gaze fixed ahead.
Now her father would know.
Rumors would spread from person to person,
and everyone would mock the “romance of the century” that supposedly existed.
Their insults didn’t matter.
She would remain the flower of society.
Masks could always be layered on again.
She lowered her head.
A tiny flower stood near her foot—blue tinted, like Luiyan’s eyes.
She reached out, plucked it, and wrapped her fingers around it.
She remembered the way his eyes widened when she whispered:
[I love you, Luiyan.]
…And today, her husband would hold that woman in his arms.
“…….”
She couldn’t even cry properly—just noiseless tears.
The sound she tried to make came out clumsy.
“Isilia.”
Someone called her.
She lifted her head.
Blue entered her vision—she gasped.
Wiping her blurry sight, she realized it wasn’t him.
Luiyan’s eyes were not this shade.
“Ro… Ryan, brother.”
At her voice, Royan approached.
His calloused hand brushed her wet cheek.
Despite his blunt expression, his touch was gentle.
Isilia smiled.
The man before her was Luiyan’s older brother—Royan.
Sixteen-year-old Isilia visited the Endrians mansion often, always trailing after Luiyan.
Royan had always treated her kindly.
His younger sister, Loren, adored Isilia too.
“Arwin brother… isn’t causing trouble, is he?”
Her disjointed question earned a nod.
He had abandoned the title of duke.
Isilia fell silent.
Royan was a man of few words, but sitting with him never felt awkward.
He stared at her—but not exactly at her.
His eyes fixed on the flower crown.
When he gently touched it, their eyes met.
Isilia laughed softly.
She remembered bragging once—
Luiyan bought me flowers!
Did he really remember that?
She opened her mouth.
He must know.
He must know about Luiyan and Marillian.
“…The ceremony… how was it?”
Was he happy?
She couldn’t ask that.
He must have smiled.
It was the wedding he wanted so desperately.
He would be happy.
What was she hoping to confirm?
Isilia smiled bitterly.
Royan seemed taken aback by her expression.
“Ah, yes.”
“…….”
His words dragged unnaturally—
even he seemed surprised by himself.
She waited for him to continue.
After a moment of silent thought, he spoke plainly.
“It was beautiful.”
“…I see.”
Something pierced her chest.
The mask—
she couldn’t put it back on.
Royan murmured:
“Loren got mad and wouldn’t stop ranting.”
“…What?”
Loren was there?
Isilia laughed at the image of lively Loren complaining.
A genuine smile crossed Isilia’s face, and Royan’s expression eased.
He kept glancing anxiously at her.
Isilia smiled again.
Royan had grown unexpectedly gentle.
“I tried to calm her down and stepped out midway.
It should be over by now.”
“Yes.”
It had been a simple ceremony with only a few invited.
A short, happy wedding.
Isilia turned her head.
A carriage exited the mansion grounds.
The crest—
Endrians.
The carriage hurried away.
She turned back and met Royan’s eyes.
His blue eyes narrowed with a faint smile.
Startled, she smiled back.
“Your Highness.”
No response.
Luiyan sighed as he watched the black-haired man walking ahead.
Right after the ceremony ended, the Crown Prince had summoned him and Marillian without explanation and now was walking somewhere, ignoring their questions.
“Your Highness.”
Luiyan spoke again.
The Crown Prince stopped.
Everyone following him halted as well.
The Prince was staring at something.
Luiyan followed his gaze—
Golden hair glinted under the sun.
He quickly turned away.
When he looked back, the Crown Prince was watching him.
Damn.
Of course he had seen Luiyan’s troubled face.
Jordan smiled.
“Do you have something to say, Duke Endrians?”
After a moment of hesitation, Luiyan spoke.
Those sky-colored eyes narrowed.
“Your Highness, we were married today.”
Normally, a royal family member attended a ducal wedding,
but seeing the Crown Prince there felt strange.
Isilia was close to the Prince—of course he’d be angry.
But today was his wedding with Marillian.
The Crown Prince shouldn’t be dragging them aside.
He knew that.
Luiyan fell silent.
Jordan smiled.
“And?”
“…….”
He’d forgotten—this man always shattered common sense.
Jordan finally turned away from Luiyan…
toward the red-haired woman, who bowed her head.
Amused, Jordan smiled wider.
“How interesting.”
“Inderick—no, I should call you Endrians now?”
“…Yes, Your Highness.”
“You. Do you have anything to say?”
Marillian avoided his gaze.
Jordan clicked his tongue, losing interest in her, then returned his attention to Luiyan.
