Chapter 23
Isillia let out a sigh. Since there was nothing she could do about a fool, she had no choice but to go to the other source of the problem—Jordan. She glared at Marillian, who sat across from her, and steeled herself. Only minutes ago she’d been shocked by the nonsense spoken by the young lady, Rimia, and now this woman—Marillian—who didn’t even deny it, was shaking her sanity. Louisan would be home when she returned. Was the woman really this bold, even knowing that?
“I loved him.”
Marillian’s voice didn’t register. Isillia deliberately refused to hold her words in her mind. Then a sudden memory brushed across her thoughts, making her freeze. The smiling faces of Duke Brangio and Duchess Yuria. Awyn looking at her in worry, Royan comforting her silently. The day Louisan brought Marillian into the mansion.
[Marie, this is my wife, Isillia von Endrianz.]
He had meant every word. A soft tone, a gentle manner she had never once heard from him before. He must have whispered his love to Marillian with that same tone. Even she had found him heartbreakingly kind to Marillian. How could someone say they loved him and yet insist their relationship hadn’t been deep? Her head throbbed at the thought of a woman bragging about having something Isillia never had.
Placing a hand on her aching forehead, Isillia opened her mouth.
“You should consider it fortunate that I am not telling you to get off this carriage immediately.”
“He—”
“Perhaps it is difficult for you to say these things, but you should change your perspective. To the one listening, your words can sound unbearably light.”
“I never meant for things to turn out this way—”
“Your apology means nothing to me.”
“…….”
If she wanted to be treated like one of those countless women he supposedly had, then Isillia would oblige. Marillian closed her mouth at the words dripping with contempt. Isillia exhaled. Her head hurt. She didn’t understand anything anymore. Inside her chest everything boiled, yet the carriage moved serenely.
Outside, it was dark.
“…….”
The marriage registration was *never submitted.*
Isillia let out a hollow laugh. And so what? What difference did that make? What happened, happened. Even setting emotions aside, Louisan had played with someone else’s life. What were the invited guests supposed to think? What of those who prepared the ceremony? What of her brother and father who pitied her? El? What about *her*?
Because of Marie and Louisan’s choice, everything had come to this. And now they wanted to undo the consequences? Easy to say.
Isillia laughed. Ignoring the gaze resting on her, she let out an empty sound. She looked down at the broken fan in her hand. Her insides burned with rage, yet no words came. Everything was irritating—speaking to the woman in front of her, hearing her talk back. Her rationality was slipping; she couldn’t think clearly.
“…….”
“…….”
Marillian’s constant gaze begged her to respond. But Isillia turned her head away. If she listened, she’d only hear something that would overturn her stomach.
The carriage grew silent.
Tears stung at the corners of Isillia’s eyes.
She closed them.
—
“We have arrived at the estate.”
The coachman’s voice broke the silence. Isillia opened the door. She listened to the butler report what had happened in her absence and headed up the stairs. Behind her, she heard Marillian getting off the carriage. Isillia didn’t look back. She ignored every gaze until she returned to her room.
“…….”
Only when the door shut with a sharp thud did her lungs loosen. She placed the broken fan on the table. As soon as she sat down, exhaustion washed over her. Louisan had gone to the palace early that morning; she wouldn’t see him. As for Marillian…
Isillia swallowed.
[There are rumors everywhere in the palace.]
It was the words of a young lady—so she couldn’t trust them. But *rumors. Everywhere.*
A bitter scoff escaped.
Aside from the imperial family, the palace staff were closest to palace affairs. Louisan… Isillia exhaled. The nobles’ stay in the palace ended three days ago. He must have known before she did. Her chest tightened. Her thoughts swirled, dizzying.
Isillia blinked. First, she would meet Jordan. Louisan could wait.
She sighed.
She called her maid, removed her makeup, and washed. In bed, she rubbed her face into the sheets. The soft fabric calmed her for a moment—but the thoughts immediately returned. She couldn’t sleep. Her body was tired, her mind painfully awake.
She sighed again.
“…….”
Sleep did not come. She sat against the headboard and waited for morning. When the sun broke, she washed her dull face and called her nanny. She told her to watch over Johan and El until she returned, then descended the stairs. Seeing her up so early, the butler approached. She declined breakfast. When she asked Louisan’s whereabouts, he answered: the palace.
“Prepare the carriage. I am going to the palace.”
She handed the letter she had written in haste the night before to the butler. He realized without needing an explanation that it was meant for the palace and bowed. Jordan was always awake early—his morning discourtesies were countless.
“You visiting without being summoned—this truly is rare.”
Just as she expected, Jordan showed no surprise that she had come so early. Apparently, she was the only one feeling urgency. On the way there, only one question filled her mind—about Marillian, and the rumors. After she finished speaking, Jordan set down his teacup.
“…Is that all you came to say?”
“There are many things to revisit.”
Isillia looked around. Marillian was nowhere in sight. She’d heard he had a female aide, but aside from the day she came with Louisan to the mansion, she’d never seen her. She hadn’t been present when Jordan spent time with his friends.
—Had he known about Louisan and Marillian’s relationship all along?
Her eyes narrowed. Jordan chuckled.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“How did Marillian and Louisan meet? …Do you know?”
“How would I know? I don’t have the time to care about every detail of his life.”
Yet he called her to the palace whenever he had a chance.
Still, Isillia didn’t argue. It was pointless to dwell on the past.
“Answer my question.”
“Are you really going to revisit *all* of that?”
“If our friendship means anything to you—then answer truthfully. I will not tolerate lies.”
If she wouldn’t tolerate them?, he asked playfully, then leisurely lifted his cup. Even under her intense stare, her friend of six years remained completely at ease. Isillia lowered her gaze to the tea in front of her. Without hesitation, she drank it in one gulp. He looked at her in surprise.
“I will no longer set foot in the palace.”
“That’s impossible. A noble of the Padivan Empire cannot sever ties with the imperial household.”
“…I heard the marriage registration was never submitted. How is that possible? We held the wedding. Even if we ignore that—her behavior toward me…”
“What did she do?”
When Isillia hesitated, Jordan smiled. She stared at her empty cup. The bitter sweetness clung to her tongue.
“She did not deny it.”
“I see.”
His reply was clean. No questions, no hesitation. Her golden eyes tightened, and Jordan seemed amused. His deep blue eyes curved as he smiled. She averted her gaze.
“So the young lady spreads shameless rumors, and Marillian did not deny them?”
“That’s correct.”
“Did she *confirm* them?”
“…….”
“If she neither denied nor confirmed, then nothing is certain. I’m glad you came to me, but you chose the wrong person.”
“Jordan.”
“You’re even calling me by name.”
“How much longer are you going to dodge? I did not come here lightly.”
Oh?, his eyes narrowed. He casually picked up a pastry and bit into it. He acted no differently than usual—yet today, he seemed unbearably irritating. Isillia frowned.
“I am asking as a friend. Six years is not a short time.”
Especially to you.
“What will you do about the nobles who attended? You mocked not only me but many others.”
“That is a matter between Marillian and the duke. I don’t see why *I* should take responsibility.”
“…….”
“However, it is true that Louisan came to me with the registration documents. Matters like that fall under my authority, not the emperor’s. A noble marriage requires the royal family’s approval—at least formally. Only then can the name be granted.”
Jordan snapped the pastry in half as he spoke.
