Chapter 8
“Listening to you complain like this hurts my feelings. Was it so unpleasant that I simply wanted to visit the home of a newlywed couple? As if I came to a place I shouldn’t have.”
“No, Your Highness. We were only…”
“If you’re that pitifully nervous, I’ll take my leave. Of course, Duke Endrianz—you’ll have to come with me, so prepare yourself.”
“…Pardon?”
Ruiyan let out a dumbfounded sound. Jordan turned his head with a smile. From a distance, someone who appeared to be a retainer of House Endrianz came running in a hurry. Jordan watched silently until Ruiyan received the papers from the man, then spoke.
“Marriage is a grand event. The parties involved are usually granted leave.”
“…….”
“That applies to you both as well.”
Ruiyan’s face stiffened as he read the letter. The Crown Prince watched the pale color drain from Ruiyan’s face as he stared at the document bearing the imperial seal.
“So I had no other choice.”
“…This is…”
“Think of it as a small bit of mischief in return for how you slighted me. If you don’t get this sorted quickly, things will get messy, won’t they, Duke? And the one responsible for him is you.”
“…….”
At Jordan’s shameless remark, Ruiyan looked at him with a hardened face. Imagining his office overflowing with paperwork—no, even now piling up—he must have felt sick. Jordan knew the feeling all too well. He shifted his gaze to Marillian. She had been lightly dressed since he’d called her immediately after the ceremony ended. His deep sea-colored eyes returned to Ruiyan.
“Prepare the carriage. Quickly.”
“…Yes.”
Ruiyan spoke in a resigned tone. As the retainer hurried off, Jordan said,
“It’s merely doing earlier what you would have to do anyway.”
“…….”
Ruiyan let out a sigh at Jordan’s brazen attitude. Jordan chuckled as if indulging him.
“Think positively. Finishing your work first makes the rest far more enjoyable.”
With an exit far cleaner than how he had dragged them around earlier, Jordan turned away. Ruiyan sighed again. Feeling a gentle squeeze on his hand, he turned to see Marillian looking at him with worry. Ruiyan smiled, squeezing back to say he was fine, and Marillian smiled too.
“…….”
Someone was calling him from afar. Ruiyan sighed. Thinking of the papers that would be stacked in his office—no, continuing to stack even now—gave him a headache.
“Safe travels, Ruiyan.”
Jordan waved with a grin, adding one last irritating farewell.
After seeing Brother Roiyan off at the main gate, Isilia returned to the garden. She picked up the flower crown she had set down earlier and looked at it.
“Duchess Endrianz.”
She turned at the voice. Sunlight shattered against bright silver hair. Isilia smiled, and the woman addressing her smiled as well. Seeing the fine, violet eyes gently crease, Isilia greeted her.
“Hello, Lady Brangio.”
“It’s been a while, Duchess Endrianz.”
Yuria La Brangio—the elegant and refined mistress of House Brangio—smiled warmly. Ruiyan must have invited Lady Brangio as well… Considering how close Ruiyan and the Duke of Brangio were, of course an invitation would have been sent. As if reading her thoughts, Yuria spoke.
“The invitation was for my husband, but Raymond was busy, so I came in his stead.”
“…I see. Rather than standing out here, would you like to come inside?”
“Thank you, but I already have another engagement. I’m afraid I cannot stay. I’ll apologize formally next time.”
Isilia nodded at the smooth response. After silently observing her, Yuria suddenly spoke.
“For the time being, the Duke will not be sharing a bed with her.”
“…Pardon?”
Isilia blinked at the abrupt statement. Ignoring her confusion, Yuria smiled gently. Contrary to her reputation for being cold, her smile was warm. What did that even—? Yuria did not appear to intend to explain.
“Let’s have tea together next time, Duchess.”
Yuria turned her head. Following her gaze, Isilia saw a blond man enthusiastically waving. Yuria clicked her tongue at his lack of decorum before looking back at Isilia. They exchanged farewells, and Isilia smiled. Yuria hesitated a moment before placing her hand into the man’s outstretched one. Watching them board the carriage, Isilia lowered her gaze and placed the slightly wilted flower crown on the ground. The petals scattered in the wind, and Isilia turned away.
The morning after the wedding was no different from any other. Isilia quietly speared a piece of salad from her plate and offered it to Johan. After glancing nervously at her and El, the child reluctantly took it. Watching Johan make a miserable face, El laughed, and Isilia smiled as well. Johan coughed as if he hadn’t chewed properly, and someone next to him offered water.
“You have to chew, Johan.”
“Ugh… yes.”
Isilia glanced at the person gently scolding the child in a tone that was more like an adult scolding another child. She handed El the cup, then looked at Ruiyan sitting across from her. His face looked worn—exhausted from working all night. Not wanting him to catch her looking, she lowered her gaze.
“…….”
She felt his eyes on her. Lately, she had been unusually quiet, and he seemed to be observing her, trying to understand why. Normally, she would chatter endlessly, but now she remained silent. His gaze shifted away, his blue eyes turning toward Marillian. Isilia smiled faintly. Not even a hollow laugh escaped her. The emotions she had suppressed for so long were leaking out. She felt more rigid, more barren than before.
Not that it mattered to him. He would probably prefer the quiet.
[Ruiyan, what did you do today?]
[I worked on embroidery today—what about you?]
[Ruiyan.]
During their honeymoon, she spoke even more than that. When he’d returned exhausted from work, she ran to him anyway and asked about his day. He never refused her—he always answered. And because of that, she never realized how selfish it was.
“…….”
In hindsight, she had been such a selfish girl. Only concerned with expressing her own feelings. No wonder he grew tired.
She chewed a vegetable without tasting it, then swallowed without thinking. She picked up more salad. The crisp sound filled her mouth.
At seventeen, in that winter, after learning the filth of high society, she changed. She shaped herself into what others desired: graceful, refined, emotionless. And through that effort, she became the perfect duchess. But when did he change? Her heartbeat pounded painfully in her chest, though his eyes were no longer on her—they were on someone else. Pathetic. Foolish.
Isilia lifted her head. Johan asked where he was going, and Ruiyan smiled as he patted Johan’s head. Watching him, she turned away.
A red-haired woman stood nearby. Unlike Ruiyan, she seemed to have plenty of time. Isilia remembered how that woman stood beside him before he left for the palace. She turned her body away.
“Duchess.”
The butler called to her. His expression was troubled—unusual for him. When she asked what was wrong, he hesitated.
“…Count Agnes has arrived.”
“…….”
Unannounced? Isilia was at a loss for words. The butler seemed just as startled. There hadn’t even been time to demand an explanation for such rude behavior. Isilia sighed. The butler answered when she asked where he was—he had been shown to the receiving room. The children, excited by the unexpected chaos, ran up the stairs. Isilia stopped them and told them to return to their rooms. Johan pouted, and after coaxing him, she sent them off with El.
“Mom, I hate you!”
“…….”
Unlike with his father, Johan whined openly at her. His cheeks puffed out as he stomped toward his room. Isilia smiled faintly and glanced downstairs.
Marillian was standing by the door.
…Even though Ruiyan had already left. Was she going to wait there until he returned? Isilia scoffed. She, too, had once stood waiting like that. After reading romance novels, she had copied what the heroines did. Ruiyan had found her standing there late into the evening and demanded what she was doing. Instead of gentle warmth, he had scolded her. Seventeen-year-old Isilia had laughed. She thought—if she waited, he would smile and embrace her.
—A hopelessly romantic child.
“…….”
Would he scold her, the way he had scolded Isilia then? No. He would hold her gently.
The Ruiyan of today would.
“Duchess.”
