Chapter 17
“Tell it to the Countess of the Duryeong family.”
“Yes.”
She accepted every invitation the steward brought, never filtering them out. Many were beneath notice, but from time to time she could find a suitable talent there. She used them to gather information, used them to climb higher. Thus she became a flower. She became a flower for him. But…
“Ah.”
The reply she was about to send was crumpled. It was nothing important, so she tossed it aside. Isilia reached out and rummaged through the invitations. The rustle of paper grated on her nerves, but she didn’t stop.
“Thank you for inviting me, Duchess Brangzio.”
“Welcome, Countess Endrianz.”
Isilia had accepted Duchess Brangzio’s invitation and come to the duke and duchess’s residence. It had been a while since she’d been alone with someone like this; it felt awkward. Years had passed since she’d come here to tell them she had broken her engagement with Luyain and become involved with Brangzio. She could barely remember that time now, only the face that had rejoiced. The duchess smiled softly and looked at her. Even as a fellow woman, Isilia was taken aback. The violet eyes folded into a bewitching expression. That once-beautiful woman had found happiness with Duke Brangzio. Her smile now was of a different order than the occasional small smiles Isilia had seen before. It was an old memory — when both of them were young, that naïve day,
“The garden is beautiful.”
They sat on the terrace and a garden full of roses spread before them. Yuria laughed as the scent of roses brushed their noses. She loved roses especially and liked to joke that the smell was overpowering because it was all she had. Isilia returned the teasing tone with a joke of her own. Even though it was by her doing that the engagement had been broken, Yuria wasn’t displeased. Outwardly she kept a blank expression, but when she was near Luyain she would sometimes come close and speak quietly. Yuria had been in a complicated position because her father, Marquis Elisis, and the former Duke Endrianz had been close friends, which had led to that engagement.
When the broken engagement became public and Isilia was seen with Brangzio, she was surprised at his calm answer when asked — she remembered his composed face. She realized then that Luyain had been overlooking their relationship. Young Isilia had resented her. They claimed to have had no feelings between them, but seeing Yuria smile at Brangzio twisted something inside her. After that she chased Luyain fiercely. Perhaps Luyain was disgusted with how relentless she became…
After a time that felt neither short nor long, she left. She politely declined the duchess’s offer to stay longer, saying El and Johan were waiting. Since Brangzio was close to Luyain… she thought Yuria must know. She used that to excuse herself and get away. On the way out she asked if she might stroll through the garden, and the duchess nodded. The closer she drew to the roses, the stronger their perfume became. The scent was suffocating, making her head spin. Unlike herself, who favored a light, subtle fragrance, Brangzio seemed to prefer a heavy scent. Thinking of the duke’s flamboyant blond hair, it suited him well and she nodded. She stood for a moment until she felt comfortable, then moved forward. She bowed over a richly blooming red rose. It was luscious — almost arresting.
Brangzio, who had been utterly profligate, and the cold, stern woman — they matched so well that she smiled without realizing it. For her, it wasn’t love; she had chased him one-sidedly. Later Luyain did turn back to Isilia, but within a year he had married. In comparison to the long period during which she had pursued him, their wedding had been shockingly quick, and people had been surprised. The marriage went forward as soon as his heart seemed open to her. Her brother had wanted to delay it.
She had tried to hold on, fearing Luyain’s heart might change, and he had been unexpectedly impatient. It was too rushed. But neither Luyain nor she spoke of it. She had tried to do whatever necessary to keep him, and he silently allowed her to. Could it be that he had wanted it delayed? …No. Luyain was not the kind of man to be that way. She told herself that.
Then why—
“…”
There was no point in turning back to the past; it only made things worse. She shuddered at her own carelessness. It was hard to touch the subject lightly, but she hated standing still. Her heart that ran toward him — if it stopped, she might not notice. If she wanted something, she would use all her strength to obtain it. So she had sat beside him, and so she had become a flower. The arrogant woman who had once scoffed at those who envied or were jealous of her was nowhere to be found. She threw herself in to win him, and before him she dropped the mask she had always worn. Yes — she would do that. Even if he never looked her way, even if there was no trace of hope, she would charge at him. She would spend the time slowly.
“…”
If nothing changed, if she remained an unwelcome guest between him and another woman… she would give up. It was selfish, but if there was nothing more to be done, she would step back. It hurt. It frustrated her. The reality, so nauseating she wanted to retch, tangled with her desire to see him and blinded her.
Luyain began coming home more often. A matter that had dragged on for a year had been resolved and he seemed relaxed. Life was peaceful. It was the slow repetition of days she had not seen for a long time. Her husband spent his time with a neutral expression. He was home more often, and El clung to him desperately. She indulged their daughter’s coquettishness as it charmed her, and before she knew it she had joined their little group. Sometimes she went on picnics with him and the children. If you could call it a picnic at all — the place was simply the estate garden. When El and Johan played, she sat and watched over them. He did the same. For a newlywed, his face was strangely serene. He could see her at court in the mornings, so she didn’t worry. There was no need to be anxious.
The time spent with him was quiet. She made no attempt to start a conversation. Even if silence hung between them, she was grateful just to be together. Sitting beside him, they spoke only when needed. Most of the conversation was about El and Johan. She told herself not to worry. Do not get anxious, she resolved.
“…”
Jordan failed to capture Luyain’s heart but had been persistent. Perhaps he too had felt he’d gone too far, because he occasionally sent Marilian back to the estate. It was obvious he meant for her just to sleep and go home; she never stayed long. The hardship she had undergone showed in her face when she occasionally met people at the estate. Her complexion was pale. A mischievous friend didn’t know how to give up.
Isilia sighed. Who could she blame—she was in no position to scold others. She and Jordan were both people who didn’t quit. Lately she had been thinking of the word “give up,” but Jordan was an exception. He acted with the expectation of certain success. Jordan was that kind of man. She had once been like him. Isilia sighed. It was burdensome. Jordan was pressing too hard right now. He surely knew what he was doing. Why was he acting like this? She briefly considered telling him to behave moderately when he visited the palace.
“Isilia.”
“…Yes?”
She answered slowly. Pale blue eyes met hers. He rarely spoke to her first. Was it about the children? She stared at him and he shook his head. He seemed to be hesitating, uncharacteristically hesitant, then he opened his mouth.
“Are you… happy now?”
“…Yes?”
He had blurted out an unexpected question. She looked at him in bewilderment while he met her calmly. He looked unusually serious. She couldn’t guess his intention. Whether she was happy or not mattered little to him. It was a needless question.
“I asked if you are happy.”
Ignoring the questioning look in her eyes, he repeated his question. Was he trying to take action? Her heart, which had been racing, fell silent. Her head cooled. —Are you trying to push me away with your own hands?
“…”
Wouldn’t it have been better to be honest? A remark that suggested he was thinking of her didn’t feel welcome. He wouldn’t be doing this for her sake, so she told herself not to delude herself. Her own mistakes must be corrected by herself. But it was annoying that he kept pressing for an answer, and Isilia finally spoke.
“Do I look happy?”
“…”
She should solve her own mistakes, but neither of them could. Their relationship was like a fragile thread ready to snap. For someone in such a state, asking whether she looked happy was… what was she supposed to say? The memory of the kindness and smiles he once showed before Marilian was brought into the room — the warmth, the words, the actions — would only wound her to recall. How long Luyain and Marilian had known one another did not matter. Digging up those memories of the time when she didn’t exist was simply self-inflicted pain. For that reason she had not attended Marilian’s wedding. The thoughts and words Luyain had once shown for Marilian hurt her heart. But she didn’t show it. She had been afraid to get hurt, so she didn’t ask. What should she answer?
“If you think I look happy, then I must be.”
Whoever saw her would know she was not happy. Still, she stayed by his side. She knew why. Her heart ran toward Luyain; she found herself happy when she looked at him. Even a faint smile that once belonged to her, the smiles he had once reserved for her but might now never return — even a blurred memory would make her happy. She let out a small laugh. How contradictory she was. She laughed foolishly.
“Why are you laughing?”
Luyain asked as if she were ill, and Isilia shook her head. Why would he say something that seemed to think of her? He could be mean sometimes. Moreover… Isilia lowered her gaze. At such words, her heart fluttered without understanding any deeper meaning. Even if his remark had no intent for her, her heart raced incessantly. It was ridiculous. His sudden interest in her was ridiculous. Both his one sentence that made her heart beat and her own foolish reaction felt unwelcome. Why was he showing such attention to her? If he only wanted to stir her with a careless comment, he might as well have mentioned Marilian — that would have been more effective.
