Chapter 9
Iliana twisted her face as she glared at the ruined flowers.
“I’ll clean these up quickly. First, I need to treat the wound.”
Bessie looked around the room, searching for something to wipe with. Tiny drops of blood had formed on Iliana’s hand from the rose thorns.
“Oh my… what on earth happened here?”
Startled, the head maid quickly pulled the thorns from Iliana’s hand. Even while the two of them focused on her hand, Iliana’s gaze wandered elsewhere. Standing with a displeased expression, she watched as Bessie pressed a cold cloth against her hand and finally spoke.
“Throw them away. All of them.”
“Yes, I’ll clean the floor.”
Since something similar had happened with Cedric before, Bessie responded quickly. She felt relieved that Iliana seemed a little calmer than last time. Even though she had served Iliana for a long time, she had never seen her so frequently angry.
Could surviving death really change a person’s temperament?
Though usually kind as before, when she was angry, a cold chill radiated from her. Bessie carefully pressed the handkerchief against her hand, trying not to irritate her mistress further.
Thankfully, the bleeding had stopped. Iliana swiftly swept up the rose petals scattered across the floor. But suddenly, petals began to fall from above like a rain of flowers.
“Miss?”
Iliana had plucked the flowers from the vase and was handing them to the head maid. Some of the blooms drooped from the sheer force with which they had been removed.
“Throw them all away. Out of my sight.”
“Yes, understood.”
Meanwhile, Iliana began drawing the curtains wide and opening the windows. At first, Bessie thought it was simply to air out the room.
But her mistress moved along, opening each window one by one.
All of them?
It was no secret in the Critia estate that the count disliked his daughter. After his wife’s death, most of the household staff had been dismissed, and only Bessie, the head maid, and the steward knew that the reason involved his two daughters.
He had tried to hide it, presenting himself publicly as a caring father. This was why Iliana’s room was exceptionally large. Opening every window in the room was no small feat—but she did it, methodically, one by one. Bessie handed the collected roses to the head maid and hurried to assist her mistress.
“The wind is chilly from last night’s rain. What if you catch a cold?”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re going to the social gathering soon, aren’t you? It starts in two days.”
All of this was because of that cursed social gathering. If she had a choice, she wouldn’t go at all. Iliana’s hands clenched the curtains tightly.
Maybe I can use this as an excuse.
The only consolation was that Cedric would also attend. He might come alone, but there was a good chance he’d bring Bella. That would increase the chances of gathering proof.
Lost in thought for a moment, Iliana frowned at the pungent fragrance filling the room.
Who knew how much money had been spent? The stronger the scent and the fuller the leaves, the higher the price. Without a doubt, these must be the empire’s finest flowers—sent by Lian.
Persistent, aren’t they.
With a headstrong person like him, ignoring him was the only solution. Though she owed him, the moment she saw the roses, she completely forgot about it. Iliana disliked this situation immensely. Yet misfortune seemed to come all at once.
“Miss, the Marquis of Piage has come to see you.”
She didn’t know how many days had passed. Formally, the emperor’s approval was required for a royal member to dissolve an engagement. But the Piage family had not yet been officially introduced to the nobility.
Procedural issues remained, but if both parties agreed, there was no major problem. So, if only Cedric stayed quiet, there would be no unnecessary meetings.
Jeffrey, understanding her wishes, had already sent the notice of dissolution to the marquisate. By now, her father had probably received a letter as well. She had assumed they would meet only after her father’s return.
Yet he came today, stubborn as ever, determined to defy her wishes. It was as if he wanted to flaunt that he bore no fault in this broken engagement.
“Is he in the parlor?”
“Yes. I’ll turn him away again.”
“No need for tea. I’ll be back shortly.”
“You want to meet him?”
“Yes. Clean this up while I’m gone. Every petal.”
“Yes, understood.”
Iliana glanced at her reflection in the long mirror in her room. Though her dress was simple, her neatly tied hair made her look elegant and composed.
With a faint smile, she headed to the parlor. The estate had three parlors in total. The largest and most ornate was reserved for the count’s guests and was farthest from her room.
Taking advantage of the count’s absence, Bessie intentionally led Cedric to that parlor, thinking that even if Iliana went out, they wouldn’t cross paths.
Click.
Opening the door, Iliana saw Cedric standing silently, his expression full of displeasure. Yet he didn’t recklessly reach for her.
Instead, he waited until she sat. Then he parted his lips, but Iliana spoke first, cutting him off.
“I believe you received the notice of dissolution. Isn’t that already settled?”
“I don’t care what you’re thinking. Whatever it is, you yield.”
“I have nothing more to say. If you have something to discuss, speak with your brother.”
“This is a royal marriage. Nothing will change. If you’re angry, resolve it. Otherwise, I can’t guarantee what might happen.”
His deep, commanding voice made his threat feel more plausible. Cedric was always like this—this wasn’t a momentary outburst. She was just realizing it now.
“I’ve made my complaints clear. That should be enough. Let’s stop here.”
Who was he to think he could dictate terms? Iliana stood silently, refusing to continue listening.
“Whether you’re pretending not to understand or truly don’t, do as you will. If you’re finished speaking, leave.”
If only it could end there.
As Cedric was about to be held back, a servant entered carrying a large box.
I told them to throw away the roses. What is this?
“The dress from the salon has arrived.”
“A dress?”
“Yes. They said they took great care since it’s for the banquet.”
“I never ordered such a thing. Who did?”
Iliana immediately thought of Cedric. Sure enough, he was clenching his teeth, glaring at the box.
“So you want the engagement over but still attend the banquet?”
“…You know it’s the Empress’s banquet, right?”
“Then don’t go. I’m still as proud as ever. Critia always shows off.”
Cedric knew how absurd that sounded. Life was precious—he couldn’t defy the royal command. Yet he continued to push Iliana, glaring as he cornered her against the wall.
Breathing heavily, he stared at her, while the nearby servant trembled. Cedric spoke in a dark, threatening tone.
“Close the door and leave.”
The servant swallowed and shrank back, glancing at Iliana before hurrying out.
Once the room was clear, Cedric stepped closer. Now there was barely a hand’s width between them.
Iliana instinctively knew what he intended. Her wide eyes trembled. She pushed with all her strength, but Cedric resisted. He roughly grabbed her face with one hand.
Turning her forcibly toward him, Cedric leaned in. Their lips were almost touching—
Smack.
Iliana’s ring left a small scratch on Cedric’s lips as she turned her head. He tasted the metallic tang of blood and smirked.
Anyone else would have been furious. Yet he seemed to enjoy the moment, smiling.
“You’ve been sulking because I haven’t paid attention to you. So I’m doing what you like.”
He spoke crudely, without a hint of shame. Iliana, seizing a momentary gap, opened the parlor door. Cedric sneered.
“No one in this estate will save you.”
Jeffrey was with the royal guard, her father had not returned, and most of the staff belonged to him. Cedric knew how closely she watched her father—so acting this way was inevitable.
Biting her lower lip, Iliana shouted,
“Bessie! Tell my brother—”
Cedric, grinning cruelly, forcibly pulled her arm.
“Then we shouldn’t have started this, Rina.”
His voice sent chills down her spine as he gripped her hands tightly, moving to close the door.
At that moment, a man stepped between them, blocking Cedric.
