Chapter 18
The first party of the social season—one that had already sparked countless rumors—ended without incident. Two days had passed since then. The season itself would continue for another ten days, but only small banquets were scheduled from here on.
At the Critia estate, the day began as peacefully as ever.
Of course, the rumors and truths spreading in its wake were anything but peaceful.
“…I must’ve misheard, right, Lina?”
Jeffrey shook his head repeatedly, as if trying to deny reality. His precious, kind younger sister would never think like this. Someone must have influenced her—there had to be someone behind this.
His suspicious gaze shifted toward the servant standing behind her. The servant, who had been attending the meal, flinched under his glare.
It wasn’t me. I don’t know anything.
The servant protested with their entire body, but Jeffrey wasn’t convinced. Instead, he narrowed his eyes and stared even more sharply.
Meanwhile, the source of all this commotion—Illiana—was calmly spreading marmalade on a perfectly toasted slice of bread.
“If you glare like that, you’ll only hurt your own eyes, Brother.”
“That’s not the issue right now.”
“Then stop picking on innocent people.”
After finishing with the jam, she carefully spread a generous layer of butter on the other side. Taking a large bite, she savored the fragrant sweetness. When the richness of butter began to linger, the bitterness of coffee provided a perfect finish.
Holding her cup by its long oval handle, Illiana lifted it as usual.
Just as she was about to take a sip—
“Breaking off your engagement with Marquis Piaget is fine. I didn’t like him either, and you had your reasons. But the Duke of Gotri? That’s different. He’s part of the imperial family.”
The coffee tasted unusually bitter today. Perhaps tea would have been better to cleanse her palate. For a fleeting moment, she thought of the clear, fragrant tea Rian had poured for her before.
She set the cup down.
“Cedric is part of the imperial family too.”
“That’s different. He hasn’t been recognized as the next heir to the throne. And the Duke of Gotri is—”
Jeffrey suddenly shut his mouth. He couldn’t bring himself to repeat the filthy, disgraceful gossip out loud.
Was she even listening?
Illiana’s expression remained unchanged. Following her gaze, Jeffrey turned toward the sunlight streaming in through the window.
Outside, summer had fully arrived. Lush greenery cast long shadows, and the wide garden was filled with blooming flowers. Illiana smiled leisurely, basking in the sunlight filtering through the glass.
She has no idea how much this is tearing me apart, Jeffrey thought.
On the night of the banquet, she hadn’t returned even after midnight. He had been beside himself with worry. If Illiana hadn’t shown up when she did, he might have harassed the palace guards all night.
He thought everything would be fine once she returned safely. All that remained was to persuade their father.
But the news she brought turned his already pale face even whiter.
“…Let’s rethink this.”
“If you’re worried about gossip, I’ve already had my fill of that over the past few days.”
“That’s not it! That man—no, the Duke—he has too many problems.”
Lowering his voice at the awareness of the servants, Jeffrey corrected himself quickly.
Illiana looked up at him. He had reacted just as furiously when he heard Cedric had threatened her.
If she hadn’t stopped him back then, he might have actually killed Cedric.
He had even sent a warning to Marquis Piaget, forbidding him from approaching both the estate and Illiana. It had no legal force, but if the marquis ignored it, Jeffrey was ready to escalate things formally.
Fortunately, the marquis sent an apology letter, and the matter was settled.
“They say he’s a womanizer… and also impotent? Don’t those rumors contradict each other?”
“I’m talking about your marriage.”
“They say I’m a seductress who preys only on imperial men. A wicked witch, apparently.”
“Which bastard is spreading that nonsense?!”
“Exactly. That’s why rumors aren’t worth believing, Brother.”
A faint smile appeared on Illiana’s lips as her eyes sparkled.
Ever since the carriage accident, she had smiled like this from time to time—like someone who had grasped all the truths of the world.
Whenever she did, Jeffrey felt an unfamiliar sense that his sister had somehow become a different person.
She’s just been through a lot, he reassured himself.
Her bright smile and gentle gaze were still the same as when they were children.
There was nothing to worry about.
All he wanted now was for a reply from their maternal grandfather to arrive soon—before their hot-tempered father caused Illiana any harm.
He composed himself and listened carefully.
“Even if I broke off the engagement, I’m still a Critia. But at the banquet, everyone avoided me. And Her Majesty received Cedric before the Duke of Gotri.”
At banquets, countless things happen, and rumors spread quickly. Even though Jeffrey had been stationed with the guard, he had heard enough to grasp the situation.
He, too, had found the increasingly cold behavior of the young nobles suspicious.
“And Father still hasn’t returned, even though the scheduled date has passed. Don’t you think that’s strange?”
“…Are you saying the broken engagement is just an excuse?”
Illiana didn’t answer, but her silence was as good as confirmation.
She dismissed the servants with a gesture. Once they had all left and the doors closed, she leaned forward.
“The imperial family is going to abandon us soon.”
“Why? We’ve served them loyally all this time!”
“Because there can never be two emperors in one empire.”
Their father, Vincent, lived with the obsession that the moment he lost power, everything would be taken from him. Even the slightest mistake from servants was met with pay cuts, confinement, or even beatings.
Jeffrey had been spared physical punishment as the heir, but his life had been far from easy.
“The Emperor of the Nobles.”
That was what the Critia family was called.
A sudden fear of death crept over him.
“…So that’s why you’re joining hands with the Duke? There’s no guarantee he won’t betray us. Didn’t Father always say never to trust anyone?”
“I didn’t say I trust him. I’m just taking shelter from the rain.”
Jeffrey tilted his head, confused.
Illiana recalled the determination in Rian’s cold eyes.
‘When peace comes, I’ll let you go. While you’re by my side, do whatever you want.’
He had said that as she left the banquet hall.
He hadn’t even asked what she wanted.
He had also spoken of revenge.
Maybe he already knew what she intended to do.
Her opinion of him hadn’t changed.
A scoundrel.
But if she could use his power, she would take his hand—even if he were worse.
It doesn’t matter.
She didn’t know much about the Duke, but she knew how he would die.
That alone made him useful.
Placing her hand over Jeffrey’s, she said softly,
“Don’t worry.”
“You’re the type who does what she decides… so there’s no point stopping you, is there? What can I do to help?”
“Don’t wait for Grandfather’s reply. You’ll have to go yourself.”
Jeffrey blinked in surprise.
“How did you—?”
“You’re easy to read. You were planning to sneak me out behind Father’s back, weren’t you?”
Illiana winked playfully.
“You can’t lie, Brother.”
“…Still, I’m worried. I can’t read that Duke. I don’t think he can protect you.”
“I’ll protect myself. That’s why I’m doing this.”
“What do you mean—?”
His words were cut off as Bessie entered.
“You called for me?”
“Look into this. It’s probably from a famous jeweler in the capital.”
Illiana handed her a sketch of a necklace.
“Yes, I’ll find out right away.”
Once she left, Illiana resumed her meal. The bacon had gone cold, but thanks to the chef’s skill, it was still edible.
Even in such a serious situation, she ate calmly.
Jeffrey stared at her in disbelief.
“You need to stay healthy to fight. Eat too, Brother. Don’t leave anything.”
Sighing, he reluctantly picked up his fork.
“…So what exactly is your question, my lord?”
“I asked about the procedures for preparing a wedding. Is that difficult?”
Erga sighed deeply.
“…What on earth happened that day?”
“Well, how would I know? It’s not like I’ve ever been married. The butler has, though.”
“…It’s not her, right?”
Ignoring the desperate look, Rian leaned back in his chair.
Sunlight poured through the window—perfect for tea.
Savoring the faint scent of jasmine, he relaxed.
After today, this peaceful rest would end.
So he intended to enjoy it fully.
“I checked our finances. We can manage for now. Prepare very expensive gifts. The more, the better. And as quickly as possible.”
There was no such thing as a losing deal.
This was a perfect investment.
“Lord! Are you really planning to throw everything away?!”
If not for Erga’s incessant nagging, it would have been a perfect day.
If only he were a little less competent, I’d have fired him already.
Opening his eyes, Rian spoke calmly:
“I will marry Illiana Critia. That decision will not change.”
Tick. Tock.
The clock struck twelve, marking the start of a noisy afternoon.
