IPWDP 18

Chapter 18

When he saw Ephelia, Regios felt good. No—when he didn’t see her, he felt irritated. It had always been that way, ever since the first time they met. But even as he felt happiness, another emotion—disgust, revulsion—rose within him. To love Ephelia because of fate—that was something Regios could not accept.

Whenever he was with her, he felt both joy and self-loathing. That was why he left Ephelia on the balcony and returned alone to the banquet hall. He hated her existence for making him mistake this emotion for love.

‘I’ll tell His Majesty the Emperor that you were tired and wanted to rest alone later.’

He knew she said that out of concern for him. But the thought that she might be trying to get rid of him because she didn’t want to see him made his mood worsen again.

‘Are you sure that’s all right?’
‘Yes.’

He didn’t want to leave her behind. But her firm answer made him turn away and leave the balcony. The look of sadness on her face made him want to comfort her, to hold her gently—but he resisted that urge. And so his demeanor grew even colder, even more distant.

He had left the balcony, but his mind was still there. What expression would Ephelia have now, left alone? Would she be sitting there quietly, looking dejected?

Even surrounded by people, Regios’s nerves were tense, on edge.

It was an awful feeling. Fate—what a damnable word. Because of that word, he couldn’t stop his heart from being drawn to her.

Perhaps because his attention was so fixed on Ephelia, he noticed that there was someone else beyond the curtains of the balcony door—someone who was not her. He guessed immediately who it must be: his younger brother, Hailen, Ephelia’s childhood friend.

Ephelia didn’t have any female friends close enough to chat with in such a secluded spot. And for a man and a woman to be alone on a balcony—that suggested a special relationship. If it had been anyone other than Hailen, Ephelia would surely have screamed or come out in alarm.

‘…Your Highness, why are you—here?’

He had been so preoccupied that he hadn’t heard someone speak to him until a moment later. Regios turned his indifferent gaze toward the speaker.

‘Lady Seluna.’

The young woman who approached him had caught his attention once before during a competition. She was Ephelia’s cousin—and her half-sister.

‘I saw your match the other day. It was… amazing.’

He neither knew nor cared which match she was talking about.

‘Your Highness?’

Seluna’s cheeks flushed red as she called out to him, but her voice didn’t reach him.

Rationally, he knew there could be nothing inappropriate between Ephelia and Hailen. But the thought of his brother being alone with her in that same space gnawed at him. No matter that they were siblings and childhood friends—it was intolerable.

This irritation wasn’t his own; his reason knew that. It was the emotion imposed by fate—the unbearable feeling of knowing that the person destined for you was with someone else, even your own brother.

Damn fate.

If he truly wanted to resist the pull of fate, he should have ignored it—let them be together on that balcony, alone.

‘Pardon me for a moment, Lady Seluna.’

Yet even so, Regios couldn’t suppress the impulse. Leaving Seluna behind, he strode toward the balcony. Just as he had suspected, two figures were there.

Before opening the door, he heard Ephelia’s soft laughter.

Don’t laugh. Not when I’m not there. You hardly smile at me anymore.

A flash of uncontrollable thought cut through his mind. He clenched his jaw, rapped on the glass, and opened the door. The gazes that met him were awkward, almost as if he were an unwelcome intruder.

Why must I be looked at like this? The sense of having interrupted a precious moment between them filled him with rage. And to think they had dared to meet like this without his permission—it was absurd.

For an outsider, the Crown Prince secretly inviting his betrothed without her fiancé’s knowledge might sound scandalous. But they were childhood friends, after all—nothing unusual. Still, Regios couldn’t let it go. He picked at that detail, as if trying to find fault.

That had been a month ago. Now, the week of his birthday banquet was drawing near.

“Your Highness.”

Regios had ordered that he was not to be disturbed, claiming he needed rest. Yet even after much time had passed, his mind was still tangled; he found no rest at all. When the door opened before he had lifted the order, his voice turned cold.

“I told you not to disturb me.”

“My apologies, Your Highness. The Grand Duke’s son has arrived.”

“My brother? Show him in.”

Regios straightened from the sofa as the door opened, revealing the Grand Duke’s handsome heir.

“Why are you standing?”

“How could I remain seated when my elder brother enters?”

“You outrank me.”

The visitor—Union, son of the Grand Duke and cousin to Regios—was older in age but lower in rank.

“Still, propriety matters. Please, have a seat.”
“All right, all right.”

“Would you like some tea?”
“Will you be the one to pour it?”
“If you wish.”
“An honor indeed.”

Of course, it would be unthinkable for the Crown Prince to serve anyone tea. The attendants quickly brought in refreshments.

“So, what brings you here, brother?”
“Your birthday’s coming soon.”
“Yes. And?”
“I wanted to ask what kind of gift you’d like.”
“You came all the way here just for that? I’m not a child—I don’t fuss over presents.”
“I also wanted to see your face.”

Regios frowned slightly. How could his cousin say such honeyed words so easily?

“By the way, where’s your fiancée?”
“She’ll come during the celebration week.”
“Why not invite her early? You’ll be too busy once the banquet starts.”
“There’s no need.”

Though it wasn’t a royal rule, it was customary to spend time with one’s betrothed beforehand. Union sighed inwardly. He didn’t want to meddle, but looking at his cousin reminded him of his younger self.

“Treat her well.”
“What do you mean by that?”

Regios knew perfectly well.
“She’s your destined partner, isn’t she?”

Regios rubbed his temples, weary.
“Is destiny something absolute?”
“Completely. You can’t defy it.”

You shouldn’t, Union thought. He himself had once tried—and paid the price. He had married his destined partner, the daughter of a count.

“What happens if you reject it?”
“Don’t. Because you’ll end up loving her anyway.”

Regios already knew that all too well. Why did God impose such a thing as fate? To bind hearts so completely that no other choice could exist—it was a perfect prison.

“Fate,” Regios murmured. “And if I insist on rejecting it?”
“I hope you won’t. But…”

Union smiled bitterly. Not everyone welcomed destiny. His cousin, especially, rejected it with youthful arrogance. Regios was only sixteen, after all.

“Then you’ll pay the price.”
“The price?”
“You’ve heard of those who did, haven’t you?”

Union himself had once despised fate. But the moment he met his destined wife, he fell for her at first sight. Yet he told her, with cruel pride:

‘I will not love you—as long as you are my fate.’

He still regretted that first sentence, and the way her face had crumbled at his words.

“Love doesn’t exist because of fate,” Union said quietly. “It’s love that creates fate.”
“Then it’s just another trick of fate,” Regios replied.

Union sighed. He couldn’t change the boy’s mind; he’d once thought the same way. He loved his wife deeply now, but she could never fully trust his feelings.

It wasn’t punishment from fate—just the result of his own arrogance.

“I hate that lazy word, ‘fate,’” Regios said.

Union smiled faintly. “You’ll understand someday.”

Meanwhile, the Duke’s mansion bustled with activity. Designers and jewelers came and went as the Duchess and Seluna busied themselves preparing dresses for the Crown Prince’s birthday festivities.

Ephelia’s dress was among them—but compared to the others, it was barely an afterthought. The Duke and Duchess called her their daughter, yet treated her like a burden, giving her the bare minimum.

Because of this, they closely monitored her outings and social activity. It was impossible to attend gatherings wearing the same dress and jewelry every time.

“This one—how do you like it?”
“Oh my, is that an emerald?”
“Yes, a large one we recently acquired. It’s rare to find a gem this size. Would you like to try it on?”
“Of course.”

Seluna put on the necklace and examined herself in the mirror, the green jewel glimmering under the light.
“I love it, Mother.”
“Then we’ll take it.”
“Excellent choice, Madam Duchess. And what about the elder lady? Has nothing caught your eye?”

Ephelia, who had quietly chosen only a modest necklace and earrings, shook her head.
“I’m fine. Please don’t mind me.”

She didn’t feel particularly hurt anymore. She had long since grown used to such treatment.

A knock sounded.
“Madam, the butler.”
“What is it?”
“A guest has arrived.”
“Let them in.”

When the butler entered, the Duchess frowned slightly—no one had been scheduled to visit.
“A guest? Who could it be?”
“The Crown Prince’s attendant, Madam.”

At that, the Duchess’s expression brightened instantly.
“The Crown Prince? Oh my, what an honor! Where is he?”
“In the main parlor.”
“Let’s go at once. You stay here, dear,” she said to the jeweler.

Seluna followed her mother out. Ephelia rose quietly as well.

In the parlor, the attendant stood and bowed deeply.
“Forgive the sudden visit.”
“There’s no need to apologize if you come on the Crown Prince’s orders. What brings you here?”
“I’ve been sent to escort Lady Ephelia to the palace.”
“Oh, I see! Girls, prepare yourselves.”

But the attendant spoke quickly, flustered.
“My apologies, Madam Duchess. His Highness specifically requested only Lady Ephelia, his fiancée.”

“I see. How thoughtful of His Highness,” the Duchess said smoothly, though her eyes trembled for a moment.

“Shall we go, my lady?”
“Could you wait a moment?”
“Everything has been prepared for your comfort.”
“I just need to fetch something from my room.”
“Of course.”

Ephelia hurried upstairs, opened a drawer, and took out a neatly folded handkerchief. She pressed it to her chest, hesitated, then put it back.

Regios had never invited her early to his birthday celebrations before. It was always on the day itself, with her family. She hadn’t even finished wrapping his gift.

But when she was about to leave the room, she stopped, turned back, and took the handkerchief again.

You don’t need to take it. He won’t like it anyway, she told herself. Yet as the carriage started moving, she couldn’t resist. She ordered it to stop, ran back, and tucked the handkerchief into her gown.

“I don’t love you.”

His eyes, once warm and bright, now looked upon her with a chilling calm.

“And I never will. I’ll respect you as my fiancée, as the future Crown Princess—but don’t expect love from me.”
“Why would you say that?” she whispered.
“Because of fate.”
“Fate?”
“Yes. You are my fate.”
“So what? You hate me because of that?”
“No. I still find you unbearably lovely.”

But in his eyes, that “love” was twisted with rejection and scorn.

“Then why?”
“Because I hate that you are my fated partner.”

Ephelia had rejoiced to learn he was her destiny. It had felt like salvation. But his words shattered that joy.

“This isn’t love,” he said coldly. “It’s just a feeling manufactured by fate.”

She couldn’t understand. Even now, she loved him sincerely. Yet she couldn’t even voice her pain.

Regios had kept his word—always courteous, always protective—but never loving.

She didn’t resent him, but his words still echoed in her mind.

The days at the palace passed quietly. Regios had come to bring her there, but he hadn’t come to see her once. It didn’t surprise her anymore. She was simply grateful to be away from the Duke’s mansion.

If I asked him to come, he would, she thought. That’s why I won’t. She knew she was a burden to him.

A knock came.
“My lady.”
“What is it?”
“Her Majesty the Empress has come to see you.”
“What? Oh, let her in, quickly!”

When the door opened, the Empress herself stood smiling at the threshold.
“Your Majesty! You must be so busy—what brings you here?”
“I hope I’m not intruding?”
“Of course not. I’m honored that you came.”
“I’ve been meaning to visit, but things have been hectic. I was worried, seeing that you haven’t been out at all.”
“Oh—I didn’t even realize.”

Only then did Ephelia notice she hadn’t left her room once. It wasn’t intentional; she simply had nowhere to go, no one to see. Years of confinement at the Duke’s estate had made such isolation feel normal.

“I’m glad you’re well,” the Empress said gently. “Has Regios come to see you?”
“He’s been busy.”

Rather than say no, Ephelia made excuses for him.

“Busy? How busy can he be, preparing for a birthday? That foolish boy.”
“It’s fine, Your Majesty.”
“He finally invites you early, and then ignores you—honestly.”
“I really don’t mind. Truly.”

The Empress looked at her kindly.
“He’s a thoughtless one, but please be patient with him. I understand your heart.”
“I’m fine, truly.”
“He’ll come to realize things soon enough,” the Empress said.

Ephelia smiled softly and nodded. She no longer expected such things. His heart had long since frozen over—and as long as she remained his fated one, it would never thaw again.

Though she had been surprised by his invitation, his absence didn’t hurt her anymore. Still, she didn’t have the heart to correct the Empress.