Chapter 10
Inside the greenhouse where the tea party was being held.
‘Why isn’t he here yet?’
Aileen, dressed in a red gown to match her fiery hair and scented with rose perfume, looked like a single, perfect rose.
Not one that hides its thorns—she displayed them fully, so that anyone who came near might feel the sting. Still, the noble ladies tried to mask their fear, fawning as if they were close friends.
“Your Highness, you look even more beautiful today. You are like a living goddess.”
“To think you wear such a gorgeous dress even on ordinary days—how splendid will it be at your engagement ceremony? I can’t wait for the day.”
“Please at least tell us the color of the dress you’ll wear at the engagement banquet. I must avoid that color at all costs.”
“Yes. If I wore a dress similar to yours, my plain face would look even more pitiful.”
They busied themselves flattering her, even belittling their own appearances.
Aileen’s lips remained firm and unyielding.
‘Why hasn’t he shown up yet after inviting me?’
The longer she waited for Valentine at the tea party, the more irritated she became.
He hadn’t sent the royal carriage to pick her up, nor had he come to meet her. She had to get out of the carriage and walk alone to the greenhouse, just like the other young ladies.
The engagement was soon, and the wedding next year, yet why was she treated with such cold disregard?
A few days ago, he had promised he would come, but when she arrived, he was nowhere to be found.
‘He dares to ignore me before we’re even married? Pathetic.’
She had planned to confront him when she finally saw him. If he treated her with such disregard, she’d cancel the engagement entirely.
Aileen had no desire to become Crown Princess. There was only one thing she wanted: Damon Craig.
The problem was that Damon not only ignored her but had married the steward’s daughter.
‘Clarissa… that wretched woman.’
Aileen cursed Clarissa, the one who had stolen Damon, secretly plotting how to remove her forever.
“His Royal Highness, Prince Valentine!”
At the steward’s announcement, everyone in the greenhouse stood.
And the moment Valentine appeared, all eyes unexpectedly turned to Aileen.
He had appeared beside Clarissa.
‘Why is he with Clarissa, when I’m the one who’s supposed to be his fiancée?!’
‘Aileen Racton…’
Entering the greenhouse with Valentine, I felt the piercing gaze of Aileen burning into me.
Red hair, red dress—Aileen was far more striking and formidable than I had imagined. She knew this herself better than anyone.
Aileen had manifested her aura before adolescence, proving her Racton lineage. No one present could beat her in skill or strength. She could even hold her own against the royal knights—a genius swordswoman.
Yet her extraordinary swordsmanship only fueled Valentine’s insecurities, as he could not wield a blade.
Still, Aileen flaunted her strength without consideration for him.
‘She probably doesn’t intend to be hated,’ I thought.
I lowered my eyelids slightly to avoid her gaze. Even her glance felt like a sting—probably because of the memory of being struck by her lightly and lying ill for days.
“Baroness, shall we go?”
Valentine exchanged a brief glance with Aileen as a greeting, then led me to the round table where she sat.
Though several identical tables were in the greenhouse, Aileen’s appeared to be the VIP seat.
“Allow me to introduce a guest who is attending for the first time. The wife of Baron Damon Craig, Baroness Clarissa Craig. She recently rendered great assistance, so I invited her as a token of my gratitude.”
Excluding the stories about the wolves and horse incident, Valentine introduced me formally.
“Thank you for the invitation, Your Highness. Greetings to everyone at the tea party. I am Clarissa Craig.”
A subtle tension swept through the greenhouse.
The glances I received as I curtseyed and spread my dress were full of disapproval.
‘Seems like Aileen gathered all her closest allies here.’
They looked at me as if I were a foreign object, an intruder, a woman they wanted to drive away.
“The engagement is approaching, so I’ve gathered you here. I wish for a memorable engagement—if anyone has good ideas, please share them freely.”
Valentine explained the purpose of the gathering, prompting a few people to offer suggestions. Some were absurd, but he listened with a smile.
“And what do you think, Baroness?”
Valentine suddenly asked me directly.
At that, Aileen, clearly irritated, spoke up.
“I doubt Clarissa has much of a mind. Before marriage, she was a maid—folding laundry or managing the house. After marriage, she didn’t attend any social gatherings, so she has no idea how the world works. Isn’t that right, Clarissa?”
I had been slapped by Aileen and made to cry, yet I still had to finish folding the remaining laundry before returning home. Born as a steward’s daughter, what choice did I have but to serve well?
But this was not Aileen’s bedroom at the Racton estate.
She might have thought she could crush my self-esteem with her words here, but surely she was not lacking intelligence entirely.
‘Foolish Aileen… at least pretend to be polite in front of Valentine.’
I clasped my hands neatly and spoke.
“I believe a charity fundraiser during the engagement party would allow everyone to see Princess Aileen’s generosity and thoughtfulness. We could gift essential items, like underwear and diapers, to the poor.”
Valentine glanced briefly at Aileen with a neutral expression, then smiled warmly at me.
“That is an excellent idea. We will hold a charity fundraiser at the engagement party, per Baroness’s suggestion.”
As Valentine formalized my idea, Aileen clenched her fists, trembling in frustration.
“Ah, I’m exhausted…”
A short while later, I stepped out of the greenhouse and stretched.
Just sitting at the tea party had drained me. I longed to return home, bathe in warm water, and sleep deeply.
The carriage was driving toward the Middletown estate when suddenly—
“Ahhh!”
The carriage braked sharply, and I, dozing, fell forward.
“Madam, are you alright? Madam!”
Miranda shook my shoulders as I groaned on the carriage floor.
“Ugh… I hit my forehead. What on earth is happening?”
Before I could figure it out, the carriage door burst open violently.
A white hand thrust inside, grabbing my hair and yanking me out.
“Ahhh!”
Pulled out into the street, I was horrified to see Aileen holding my hair.
To be a princess fighting in the middle of the capital’s main road—she was beyond reason.
Her eyes were wild with rage, unable to even consider decorum for a bride-to-be.
“Have you taken pleasure in stealing other people’s men? Not enough with Damon, now you toy with Prince Valentine too?!”
Aileen shook my hair viciously. Her strength was terrifying; I feared she would pull it all out.
“Ah! Princess, people are watching!”
“And what if they see? I am Aileen Racton!”
At that moment, a familiar, cold voice came from behind her.
“Craig, Damon. Aileen Racton, Princess, I greet you.”
Damon’s sudden appearance startled Aileen, causing her to release my hair.
I hurriedly tried to fix my tangled, disheveled hair, embarrassed to be seen like this by Damon.
‘Why did you come here now?’
I roughly tied my hair back and raised my head.
Damon, hands behind his back, glanced at me, clicked his tongue, and smiled gently at Aileen.
“What has caused such anger? Surely my wife erred. Otherwise, the princess would not have flung aside all decorum to grab hair in the street.”
As expected, Damon was not on my side.
“Damon, Clarissa is flirting with Prince Valentine! You married her, yet how could she act like this?”
Aileen pouted, playing the wronged heroine.
“My wife seems to have made a mistake serious enough for the princess to misunderstand.”
“It’s no misunderstanding! Look at that royal carriage—they sent her one, but not me! She must be planning to make him her lover.”
“…Lover?”
Damon still smiled lightly, as if hearing a ridiculous joke.
“She might have already committed adultery!”
“That’s impossible.”
His gaze lingered on me for a moment, then returned to its original focus. Yet I could hear the confidence in his voice, as if saying: You only care about me. You love only me. You would die for me if necessary. Right?
Despite my bleeding forehead and hair ruined by Aileen, Damon stood there, relaxed and smiling. I hated him for it.
I bit my lip, aching as if my heart had been torn to pieces.
Meanwhile, Damon continued speaking with Aileen.
“Damon, you must trust me. Valentine’s gaze toward Clarissa was filled with affection. He has never looked at me that way. You don’t plan to live with a mistress, do you?”
“I am more concerned about the princess now. You are blocking the street, drawing a crowd. Let’s continue this conversation over tea.”
“Sh-should we?”
“I will escort you. Millan, move the princess’s horse.”
As Millan led Aileen’s horse away, Damon offered his arm.
“I will escort the princess, so she is not hurt further.”
“Thank you, Damon.”
Aileen smiled brightly, taking his arm as they walked away.
Left alone, I watched them disappear, then turned sharply.
Climbing into the carriage, I groaned—the fall had left my body aching all over.
‘Damon and Aileen! I will make you regret this day!’
