Chapter 24
“He gave up and went home when the seal wasn’t stamped right away. He must’ve thought they would stamp it later, as usual. In a way, he was right, and in another way, completely wrong. Without the certificate, the seal couldn’t be issued, and in the end Marillian never received the Endrianz name. When I called Louisyan and told him, he wasn’t even surprised. ‘He was always that kind of man.’ But her face—now that was worth seeing.”
“No certificate… I’m not sure what you mean.”
“This isn’t important to you. You don’t need to dwell on it. The point is—”
He brushed the flour from his hands and looked at her. His eyes felt like they could peel away every layer of her thoughts. Isilia pressed her lips shut. The Crown Prince laughed.
“Marillian and the duke weren’t deeply involved. And what you suspect between her and me—half right, half wrong.”
“……”
“I’ve known you for how many years now. I can hear the gears grinding in that head of yours from here.”
Talking to him really did feel like going back to childhood—too familiar, and too easy to fall into old habits. Isilia glared at the man’s shameless tone and let out a sigh.
The Crown Prince was difficult to face. The discomfort Marillian brought was different—Jordain kept Isilia by his side simply because he liked her. And to someone like him, knowing a person for six whole years meant a great deal.
“They say women are naturally imaginative, don’t they?”
“…That’s not limited to women.”
Isilia shook her head firmly. Jordain muttered something at her cool, dismissive response. When she refused to answer, he shut his mouth. His light-blue eyes narrowed at her.
“Stop speculating. Just take what you need.”
“……”
“The duke is at his residence. He should be arriving right about now.”
Though he smiled brightly, his voice was steady and serious. Isilia frowned. She could never read him. If she spoke carelessly, he would seize on her words — she knew it, so she remained silent.
“The nobles will handle themselves.”
He talked around and around the subject, only to reveal a sliver of his real thoughts at the end. Even that was vague. Isilia grimaced. The backlash from the nobles would be fierce. Marillian and Louisyan had mocked them — mocked their pride, the thing they valued most. They would not take the humiliation quietly.
“I remember which noble belongs to which family. It isn’t a problem.”
Jordain sipped his tea like this was of no consequence. Isilia watched him quietly. What he said was difficult, but not impossible. Money or otherwise—nothing was beyond his reach. In that sense, Jordain was always exhausting to deal with.
He was the one who fueled the rumors between Marillian and the duke. He would step in eventually. Yet he spent all this time sneering.
Capricious. Arbitrary. Brilliant.
If the Emperor soothed and persuaded talented people, Jordain did the opposite. If someone wouldn’t bend to him, he cut them off without hesitation.
“The duke held her hand a few times, that’s all. That’s the depth of it. Nothing to be attached to.”
“…I still don’t understand what it is you want from me.”
“Who knows.”
“…I think you already find plenty of joy in using people.”
“You don’t intend to become my enemy, do you?”
“I don’t. But moderation would be wise, Your Highness. Not many people enjoy being a source of your amusement.”
*Please treat me as someone who matters.*
She had meant that sincerely. Jordain had answered that he would *think about it*.
Isilia closed her eyes at the memory of his smiling face. Now that things had come to this, Jordain was effectively telling her to get along with Louisyan. Easy for him to say.
She opened her eyes, voice stiff.
“You probably heard from Marillian, but some things aren’t resolved by saying ‘that’s how it was.’”
“When you think about it, it’s simple.”
“…Our feelings are different. And I—”
Isilia smiled. A soft, pleasant smile. She met his gaze with the exact expression he once gave her and spoke, lightly teasing,
“I’m not someone who accepts things just because you say so.”
*Unlike her.*
She didn’t say that part aloud, but something in Jordain’s face said he understood.
“I suppose you won’t be seeing her at the residence anymore.”
“Is that disappointing?”
As if. Isilia smiled again. Seeing the second bright smile, Jordain frowned. Ignoring his scrutiny, she spoke gently,
“There’s something off about what you said. She soiled my dignity. How could I just let that go?”
“Isilia.”
“But,”
Isilia rose from her seat. She offered a polite bow and moved toward the door.
“Hiding is enough. I don’t need to get involved any further.”
Interfering would only dirty her more. Whatever happened, Marillian would face consequences. Isilia no longer cared.
Time washes everything away — even pain. A year, maybe two… maybe longer. But one day, none of it would matter.
El and Johann…
“……”
El and Johann.
She felt her breath stop. At the end of her selfish thoughts, she couldn’t say another word. Her hand trembled as she covered her eyes. Something cold touched her fingertips.
Footsteps.
She looked up. Amber-colored eyes. Marillian.
Isilia smiled faintly. Her eyes were dark, unreadable. Similar to the face she had seen in the social circle—was that the real her? The naive, flustered woman from before—was *that* the lie?
She started entertaining ridiculous ideas. Every version of Marillian—the one others saw and the one *she* saw—they were all real. Thinking in terms of real and fake suddenly felt absurd. Malice tightened around her thoughts. Dizzy, she staggered.
Marillian stepped forward, but Isilia raised her hand.
“Don’t come closer.”
Marillian stopped.
“I don’t want to understand you. And I don’t want to understand Jordain. Whatever happens, I won’t break my friendship with him. But—”
Isilia narrowed her eyes. Marillian seemed to understand the warning.
“Regardless of whether the rumors are true, you toyed with many people. You’ll pay for that, without my involvement.”
*I will not forgive you.*
The words came out, polite speech mixed with plain and harsh tones. Marillian’s lips pressed tightly together. Isilia sighed. Watching for her reaction felt foolish.
“I used to think you and he were alike. Looking away when flustered, refusing to answer difficult questions, keeping a stiff face when surrounded by people.”
“……”
“That was the extent of it. He can be indifferent—even to himself. When he realizes he’s hurt someone, he stops or turns away, or faces it. Three choices.”
*But he never walks around like he’s done nothing wrong.*
Isilia smiled. Marillian stared. She stepped forward. That emotion—neither guilt nor remorse—made Isilia recoil. She didn’t want to associate with Marillian ever again.
Isilia got into the carriage.
All the way home, she was silent.
She called for the butler, listened to what had happened in her absence, and went upstairs. El and Johann were waiting. Isilia smiled. She stroked their sulking faces and pulled their stiff bodies into her arms. As they relaxed, she laughed. When she rubbed her cheeks against theirs, Johann reached out his hand.
“Johann.”
“Mom.”
“I’m sorry. I had business at the palace.”
He was angry that she left without saying anything. She held him, smoothing down his pale hair.
“Did you listen to your nanny?”
He didn’t answer. She smiled—too cute.
“You’re upset.”
“……”
“Johann.”
She hesitated. Her mouth felt dry. Johann slipped from her arms during her silence.
“There’s something I need to tell you.”
“……”
“Johann, I…”
How should she say it? Her selfishness hurt no one more than her children. She couldn’t even manage her own emotions—what if she said the wrong thing?
…Maybe she shouldn’t say anything.
Isilia closed her mouth. Johann glared, and she pulled him back into her arms.
“I’m sorry.”
“……”
“Next time, I’ll tell you before I go. So smile for me, alright?”
She smiled, letting him go. El led Johann away, and Isilia sighed. She walked to a door. Cold sweat ran down her back. With clammy hands, she knocked.
*Who is it?*
She didn’t answer.
Louisyan had returned first.
“Louisyan.”
