Chapter 14
The sound that broke through the heavy silence was enough to draw everyone’s attention nearby. The nobles seated at the white table each fell into their own thoughts.
It was something they all knew, yet could not dare to say aloud.
A single remark from a young lady carried tremendous weight. Meanwhile, the one who had spoken seemed rather pleased to have all eyes on her. If the girl beside her hadn’t looked horrified and tried to stop Sophie, she likely would have said something even worse.
Illyana’s face burned, and her heart trembled. Above her, the dazzling chandelier lights shimmered against the pitch-black darkness, as if every flickering flame was staring down at her.
Just like the countless gazes she could feel without even looking.
The pressure tightening around her heart made her press a hand gently against her chest. The soft texture of her dress brushed against her fingertips, but it did nothing to ease the pain. She still wasn’t free from the memory of her death, and the mysterious pain—perhaps a side effect of her regression—tormented her every night.
Bessie, who came to wake her, had already lost count of how many times she’d been shocked to see her pillow soaked through.
“I can do this. Everything will be fine.”
Illyana clenched the hem of her skirt tightly and held her breath. The tightly laced petticoat made it hard to breathe, and the dress felt like armor pressing down on her body.
“No matter how desperate she is to marry, the Duke of Gotri?”
“Exactly. A woman with a broken engagement should know her place.”
The murmurs grew louder, making her head spin. Her already pale face turned ghostly white, and her soft pink lips faded.
Droplets of condensation from the cold champagne glass in her hand began to dampen her fingers. In that moment, her hazy mind snapped back to clarity amidst the suffocating heat of the ballroom.
Was there even a single person here without guilt?
That thought suddenly crossed her mind.
Why am I the only one who has to endure this?
After remaining silent the whole time, she slowly rose from her seat and walked toward where Sophie was sitting. Her steps were steady and even—almost light.
Across from her, an unsuspecting servant was offering drinks to the nobles with a tray in hand.
And just as he reached Sophie—
Illyana, as if she had been waiting, deliberately bumped into him.
The startled servant stepped back, but it was already too late.
Clink—crash.
Golden champagne spilled over Sophie’s shoulder, the sticky liquid running down her chest and dripping onto her lap.
Startled by the sudden mishap, Sophie shot to her feet.
“What do you think you’re doing?!”
“Oh dear, my hand slipped.”
“Where are your eyes?!”
Although Illyana had caused the spill, she scolded the innocent servant instead. He repeatedly bowed, apologizing, but Sophie paid no attention.
“That dress is worth more than your entire life’s wages. I’ll report this to my father and have you thrown out of the imperial palace. Do you understand?!”
“Please, forgive me just this once!”
The servant pressed his forehead to the floor, begging.
The attention that had been on Illyana shifted entirely to Sophie. Watching quietly, Illyana finally stepped forward.
“It was my fault. I bumped into him by accident. Since this is an imperial banquet, perhaps you should let it go, Lady Katrina.”
Sophie, already furious over her ruined dress, crossed her arms and glared.
“An accident? You expect me to believe that?”
“You don’t think I did it on purpose, do you?”
Illyana glanced around at the other ladies as if seeking agreement. Chloe and Greta quickly shook their heads. Given the situation, it was best to let it pass.
But Sophie had no intention of doing so.
“I don’t know. For an accident, it’s too strange. Why at that exact—”
“Why at the exact moment you were talking about me, you mean?”
“What? Are you accusing me of speaking ill of you? You can’t just corner someone like this.”
“You’re right. Without evidence, we shouldn’t accuse others of things we don’t know. That would be quite rude.”
Sophie bit her lower lip.
If she claimed Illyana acted out of spite, she would be admitting she had been gossiping. If she called it an accident, she’d look petty for making a fuss.
Flustered, she looked around for support—but no one agreed with her. Most nobles avoided her gaze, silently siding with Illyana.
“Either way, since I bear responsibility, send the bill for the dress to the House of Count Critia. I will compensate you immediately.”
“Who said this was about the dress? What I said about you was—”
“Sophie, that’s enough. People are staring.”
Chloe grabbed her wrist, while Greta nudged her from behind and bowed lightly to Illyana.
“Let go! I’m not finished yet!”
“Stop it. The emperor will arrive soon. Are you going to greet him like this?”
Only then did Sophie realize the state she was in. Clutching her dress tightly, she was eventually dragged out of the hall.
Watching them leave, Illyana helped the still-kneeling servant to his feet. He thanked her repeatedly before cleaning up the mess.
Feeling the weight of the nobles’ curious gazes, Illyana turned away.
If she doesn’t want to leave in humiliation like that, she won’t dare speak carelessly again.
She returned to her seat as if nothing had happened. She could feel Lian staring at her but pretended not to notice.
I must look insane to him.
Even without hearing it, she felt like she knew what he was thinking.
This is nothing. I will survive—no matter what.
She could do far worse than this. She was sick of enduring. No matter how much she endured and tried, all she received in return was contempt and death.
That must be why the Empress invited her.
The Empress knew Illyana wouldn’t be able to refuse. Like a bird trapped in a cage, unable to move—the power that created such fear was being used perfectly.
The outcome of the audience had already been decided.
So they should just begin already.
She placed a hand over her pounding heart. Perhaps because she had stopped suppressing her anger, her heart raced more often, and fatigue came quickly.
Just then—
A hand on her shoulder pulled her drifting consciousness back. Startled, she flinched and turned slightly to see Lian’s large hand.
Would there really be any evidence?
A faint smile touched her lips.
Of course not.
It was enough that he had come with her, despite the rumors it would cause. Though his decision was also for his own reasons—to avoid becoming a hostage in a foreign land—it didn’t matter.
If this led to her broken engagement being resolved smoothly, it was a perfect deal.
All that remained was to fulfill his condition and return—
To attend the audience together.
“I should have listened to Erga,” Lian muttered, stopping a passing servant and downing his second glass of champagne.
He seemed to have completely forgotten that Illyana had slapped his hand earlier. He also didn’t question her absence. His expression was indifferent, as if everything was a bother.
“Good thing we arrived late.”
Illyana, after a moment of thought, finally spoke.
“The carriage wheel broke suddenly, which delayed us. I apologize for being late.”
“Ah, carriages are always troublesome.”
Lian chuckled faintly, as if recalling something amusing.
What’s so funny?
He placed his third empty glass on the table. Even though champagne was light, drinking like that would lead to intoxication quickly.
Was he planning to attend the audience drunk?
The words telling him to stop lingered on her lips—but disappeared.
Their agreement was only to attend the audience together. Looking after him was not part of the deal.
Illyana stared quietly at her hands resting on her lap. Even though their touch had been brief, it still felt as though his hand lingered against hers.
It was irritating. Strange. Her heart kept pounding for reasons she couldn’t understand.
Still—
Because he had taken her hand, the world had quieted once more.
And her heart sank into calm.
As if by magic.
Everything seemed to stop.
Then—
Just as the music and noise began to fill the ballroom again, a sharp trumpet call rang out, announcing the arrival of the imperial couple.
“His Majesty Emperor George Gotri and Her Majesty Empress Melissa Gotri enter!”
The chief attendant’s booming voice echoed through the hall. As he struck the floor with his staff, the grand engraved doors opened.
Doors that only the Emperor and Empress could pass through.
