Chapter 20
“No matter how this ends, I cannot forgive what you and the duke did—deceiving so many people.”
“……”
“Lady of the Inderik family, and His Highness as well… neither of you are exceptions.”
Before Jordan could even question *why?*, he shut his mouth at Arwin’s firm tone—spoken as if he had made a resolute decision.
“Separate from that, Father and I will respect your choice.”
“……”
“You have hurt many people. However…”
He must be thinking: *You can’t possibly imagine the pain I went through*. That is what he wants to say. Isilia smiled faintly. She narrowed her golden eyes—her mother’s inheritance—and looked at Arwin. *I’m fine*, she answered silently. Her small smile shattered the calm expression on her brother’s face.
“…That is all I have to say.”
Arwin turned away, trying hard to hide the tremble in his gaze. Isilia lowered her head in a polite bow. With a light gesture, her brother returned the gesture. She waved until he finally disappeared from sight, then covered her mouth as laughter escaped. A chuckle she couldn’t contain lingered in her ears. She knew he was worried about her. *He can’t forgive them, but he’ll walk beside me anyway.* The realization warmed her.
So *this* is what reassurance feels like. It was different from the emptiness she felt when she asked Ruian for a divorce and he gave no answer. Now her chest felt warm.
Something that had been tightly blocked inside her loosened, as if someone had wrapped her gently in their arms. Isilia turned away. Before stepping into the carriage to leave the palace, she met every gaze directed her way. Whenever she looked back, people darted away in fear. It was ridiculous, and she laughed. She didn’t even bother hiding the sound. She stared back at those who watched her as if she were a spectacle.
*I love you,*
A phrase that once tasted so sweet—when had it become so bitterly painful? The words, once honeyed, now twisted inside her like poison. Her mouth felt dry. Isilia closed her eyes, exhausted. She thought of the things she had to do once she returned home. She felt like she was standing alone in a barren desert. The world continued without her. Invitations still poured in unabated. Documents about the Endrianz family’s finances and management awaited her.
Upon returning from the palace, Isilia immediately handled the work piled on her desk. The mountain of invitations never shrank, even when she discarded some. Invitations for Ruian, for her, for Marie and the children. She sorted them separately. Those addressed to Ruian, she handed to the butler to deliver to him. She picked one up and opened it—always the same content. A letter wishing for Marillian’s attendance. Because every invitation to their household passed through Isilia’s hands… it felt strange every time. Fewer than those addressed to her, yet Marillian’s invitations were steadily increasing. She was not foolish; she knew exactly what that meant.
“……”
She still went to the palace every day, but Marillian began returning to the mansion earlier and earlier. So the crown prince’s patience was running out. There was a limit to how long he could hold her there. Until Marillian returned and won over the servants’ hearts, Isilia was safe. She didn’t underestimate the loyal servants who had been with her for years, but really—what servant would turn away a woman favored by their master? She didn’t have time to relax anymore.
Isilia sifted through the invitations addressed to her and found a familiar colored envelope. A yellow invitation—small gatherings of ladies only. The topics were always light and trivial. For someone inexperienced in such socializing, it would be an unfamiliar environment. She set the invitation aside on her vanity. Since Marillian returned home after dinner, perhaps she would bring it up then. Marillian had asked her to have tea; she must’ve had something to say. They hadn’t been able to talk properly since—too busy, no time.
“……”
Evening was still far away. Isilia stood and walked toward the bookshelf in the corner. She hadn’t read anything properly in a while and hesitated over what to choose. The butler had surely stocked the shelf with books he thought she might like, so anything would do. She picked the thickest one. She hadn’t had time to read lately—this was good to pass time and organize her thoughts. She ran her eyes over the pages, thick with black ink. The sound of turning pages was comforting.
—
A knock pulled her gaze from the book. Outside, the sky had turned a deep red. When told the children had come, she nodded. She opened the door, walked through the hallway, and descended the stairs. Johan and El saw her and ran over. She told them to wash up first. They nodded and ran off. As they left, she called the butler. She instructed him to inform the host of the gathering that someone would be accompanying her. It wasn’t necessary for her to attend, but there was something she wanted to see—she wanted to see the expressions on those women’s faces when she arrived with Marillian. Could Marillian withstand that place? She would be the easiest prey. They would certainly attack Isilia as well, but she could handle that. But Marillian…
“They’ll tear her apart.”
She shouldn’t judge Jordan. She was just as wicked. It was unpleasant, realizing they were alike in their worst traits.
After waiting awhile, Ruian and Marillian returned from the palace. They sat down to dinner with the children. It felt awkward—rare to all sit together like this. Their expressions were blank, as always. In the quiet, Isilia spooned some soup and tasted it. Savory. She hadn’t had much appetite lately… had it returned?
She lifted her head, lost in her own thoughts. Something about the atmosphere was off. Nothing outwardly different, yet… something was *slightly* wrong. She couldn’t name it. Her golden eyes caught the chandelier light, flickering with each blink. Ruian glanced at her.
“……”
Nothing had changed, yet everything felt strange. Isilia frowned slightly, remembering the palace. Her brother had been there with them. She remembered the red-haired man she had glimpsed through the cracked door. Marillian and Ruian had been with Jordan. Were they meeting because of work? Had the crown prince reprimanded them? Both of their faces were stiff. Even her brother had been frowning before their eyes met.
“……”
Then it wasn’t her concern. She dropped her gaze. She waited for the children to follow Ruian out of the dining room. When she turned back, Marillian remained seated, watching her—as if she had been waiting. The tea invitation must have been an excuse.
When Marillian asked to walk through the garden, Isilia nodded. So she had forgotten her own words. Isilia stood. Footsteps followed her. They moved to the inner garden at the back of the mansion, far from the wandering servants. Deep enough that even their own voices barely reached each other. There, she stopped.
“……”
Flowers crushed beneath her shoes. Most were small and delicate—easily trampled. The tall and strong ones were placed where the owners could admire them. At her feet were insignificant, tiny blossoms. Modest and plain. And yet, she found them lovely. She bent down. The petals under her fingertips were weak—thin, fragile. A smile formed. Her hand lowered, just about to touch the stem—
“Lady Endrianz.”
Marillian called her. Isilia looked up. Her amber eyes were dull. The overwork had damaged her skin. Isilia stood. Marillian’s gaze fixed on the flower Isilia had been looking at. There were flowers everywhere here—anywhere the eye turned, beauty. Yet Marillian’s eyes remained fixed on that insignificant patch at Isilia’s feet. She hesitated, then finally spoke in a trembling, yet oddly calm voice:
“I have something to ask.”
“What is it?”
“That day… why did you make that for me?”
“Because it suited you.”
Those flowers simply bloomed around them, matching the color of her eyes. Giving her a flower crown might have been nothing more than whimsy. It had been a chaotic time; Isilia herself couldn’t recall the meaning behind her actions. Even that memory was blurry now. She looked at Marillian—the brilliant red hair swaying in the breeze, the amber eyes…
“Why me…?”
“There was no special kindness involved.”
Did she want Isilia to slap her? Was that what she expected? The thought made Isilia laugh. She stood there, apologetic eyes, coming and going in *her* house. It was too late to question anything now. Isilia turned her back, feeling Marillian’s gaze following. The sky was clear and coldly blue—so at odds with her mood.
“…Do you not love Ruian?”
“Do I look like I do?”
Isilia turned back. Marillian looked startled by the counter-question. So she wanted to start a fight? Or perhaps… something else. Isilia frowned. Something about Marillian felt *off*, but she couldn’t name it. For the first time, Marillian met her gaze instead of staring at the ground.
“You’re too different.”
“……”
“The woman who stole the man I love is right in front of me, yet you treat me like this. Even knowing I love him…”
“It was whimsy.”
She cut off Marillian’s hesitant, gentle confession. Amber eyes trembled. Reading the emotion she loathed in those eyes, Isilia swallowed a laugh. Her lips curved into a cold smirk. What finally made Marillian pity her? The woman who was poison even when silent—now showing her thorns. Marillian’s unwanted kindness was eating away at her. Holding back the curses that rose to her lips, Isilia bit down and steadied her voice. Her expression was blank as she looked at Marillian.
—
