Finally, it was the bride’s turn to enter.
Taking a deep breath to calm my nerves, I made my way toward the chapel.
‘This time, I won’t die. Let’s not become a miserable duchess like Kayla.’
Resolving firmly, I walked confidently into the chapel.
The large doors swung open, and all the distinguished guests rose from their seats to look at me.
The red-carpeted wedding aisle felt endlessly long.
At the far end of it stood Ricardo, his hands clasped behind his back.
Everyone else had turned to watch the bride enter, yet he alone didn’t even bother to face me.
It was a bitter scene that perfectly showed just how unpleasant and dreadful this marriage was for him.
‘Well, same goes for me.’
I didn’t care what he thought of me—I walked steadily down the aisle.
Since I was already stuck in this body, I imagined a bright exit waiting at the end of that long path.
“The Empress brought her, I hear. Some distant relative, apparently.”
“What a nasty move from Her Majesty. No matter how much she hates the Duke, how could she match him with such an unworthy bride? Tsk tsk.”
“Exactly. With the Duke’s achievements, even marrying a princess from another country wouldn’t have been surprising.”
Whispers trailed behind me as I passed.
It felt less like a wedding and more like being a zoo exhibit.
“She’s pretty enough, I suppose. Seems Her Majesty isn’t completely heartless.”
“She’s alright, but not as good as Lady Guineiro. Wasn’t the Marquis’s daughter in love with the Duke for years?”
“That’s right. I thought she’d become the Duchess. But of course, the Empress wouldn’t let that happen. Think of the political power that marriage would’ve brought.”
People nodded knowingly among themselves.
While they gossiped, I continued walking down the seemingly endless aisle and finally approached the platform where the bishop stood.
Ricardo, who had been staring straight ahead, reluctantly turned to face me.
For a brief second, something flickered in his eyes as he looked at me, but the chill in his expression remained unchanged.
If all I saw was his solemn face, I wouldn’t be able to tell if this was a wedding or a funeral.
‘Yeah. Of course, you’re not happy. Neither am I.’
Who would be pleased about a marriage they never wanted?
Still, when people were whispering about us right in front of the altar, the least he could’ve done was manage his expression.
I took the large hand he offered and stepped up onto the platform.
Standing beside him, I half-listened to the bishop’s tedious sermon and repeated my insincere vows.
His vows were just as dry and lifeless as mine.
“To affirm that the two are now one before God, you may seal it with a kiss.”
The moment everyone had been waiting for arrived—the groom’s kiss to the bride.
While the audience watched with sparkling eyes, he turned halfway toward me.
For some reason, I got nervous too and reflexively gripped my bouquet tighter.
‘Don’t be nervous. It’s just a formality.’
He took my chin in one hand and leaned in, meeting my eyes.
Looking down indifferently at my trembling gaze, he brushed a brief kiss somewhere between my cheek and lips.
Like he was just going through the motions, it was completely devoid of warmth or sincerity.
When he quickly turned his head away—as if the idea of touching me was unbearable—I couldn’t help but let out a self-deprecating laugh.
I wasn’t expecting a deep kiss or a tender forehead peck…
But was I really that repulsive?
Now I understood why Kayla was so dejected after the wedding in the original story.
I knew exactly what kind of cold-blooded man Ricardo was.
But Kayla must have felt crushed, especially if she’d developed some feelings for him.
Thus ended a wedding completely devoid of warmth.
Like a bride dragged to the altar, I had no family by my side, no friends to congratulate me—just a dull, joyless ceremony.
Only the Empress, seated in the front row, looked thoroughly pleased.
Before returning to the palace, she took both my hands in hers beside the carriage and said:
“I believe you’ll do well. Now that you’re the Duchess, be faithful to your role.”
Not a single word of congratulations for the newlywed—just duty and expectation.
She looked relieved, as if her responsibilities were now over.
“Yes, I’ll keep that in mind, Your Majesty.”
With an overly polite smile, I watched the Emperor and Empress board their carriage and leave.
That’s when I felt a sharp gaze from beside me—Ricardo.
He stared at me coldly, as if he knew exactly what the Empress had said.
The fake smile that still lingered on my lips faded instantly.
He turned on his heel and walked away.
Only a chill remained around me as I stood alone.
After the whirlwind of the wedding, night eventually fell.
So much so that I almost questioned whether the wedding had even happened—everything in the mansion was now silent.
The bridal chamber was cozy and still, so quiet I imagined I could hear the flickering of candlelight.
The room, decorated for the Duke and Duchess, was grander and more extravagant than the guest room I’d stayed in before.
But my heart felt far from comfortable.
I sat awkwardly on the large bed, now wearing an uncomfortable indoor gown after removing my wedding dress.
I sat there for a while, like a new bride waiting nervously for her husband—until I stood up, clearly out of patience.
‘This should be enough, right?’
I reached for the bell rope to change out of the bothersome gown—then stopped.
If I called Molly now…
‘Imagine being left alone on your wedding night. How pitiful—abandoned from the first night.’
I could already hear her snickering.
Better to change by myself and protect my mental health.
Knowing no one would come into this room tonight, I boldly peeled off the dress.
Piece by piece, I unfastened the suffocating garments that clung to me like shackles, until I was left in nothing but a thin undergarment. Only then could I finally breathe.
“Ha… I thought I was going to suffocate.”
Stretching out my freed body, I quickly changed into the nightgown that had been prepared beside the bed.
The one-piece gown had wide-open shoulders, which was a bit annoying, but it was soft, smooth, and so light it felt like I was wearing nothing.
“Better to suffer briefly as a duchess than to suffer my whole life as a servant.”
Spinning once in front of the mirror in the silky gown, I flopped down on the bed.
It was like sinking into a bed of swan feathers.
“Wow. This is amazing.”
Like a child making snow angels, I flapped my arms against the sheets.
Then suddenly, my eyes lit up.
“Oh right. That thing.”
I remembered the important item sitting on the table earlier.
“Almost fell asleep without enjoying it.”
With a mischievous grin, I bounced up from the bed.
In the center of the room stood a flower-adorned table set for the newlyweds.
Inside a crystal decanter was a deep red wine, and beside it two elegant glasses—along with some light desserts that looked sweet just by appearance.
No way was I letting this go to waste.
‘Come to think of it, is this my first drink since transmigrating?’
Back in the real world, I’d come home exhausted, shower, then crack open a cold beer. That was my little daily joy.
And now here I was, waking up in the middle of a fantasy.
“Alright. Let’s have a taste.”
I poured the red wine into a glass and brought it to my lips—and wow! This divine sweetness could only be called heavenly.
All the tension and pressure from today’s wedding melted away instantly, and my body felt lighter.
It had that perfect blend of bitterness and sweetness—it slid down my throat effortlessly.
After popping one of the fluffy desserts into my mouth, I couldn’t help but sigh with delight, my eyes fluttering shut.
With the glass in one hand, I began to walk leisurely around the spacious room.
Even barefoot, the plush carpet tickled my toes like walking on clouds.
‘What if Kayla had just quietly enjoyed her life as the Duchess?’
If she’d kept her distance from Ricardo and just played the part of duchess until he became Emperor—then taken some alimony and left gracefully?
If she hadn’t coveted the Empress’s seat and stepped down cleanly—would she still have died?
Yelena was the woman who had supported Ricardo from the very beginning.
No matter what Kayla did, she could never replace her.
‘Instead, she got jealous, framed Yelena, and tormented her—just to get herself hated.’
Jealousy really blinds people. It turns sane women into fools.
Why did she always get caught and suffer for it?
I could never understand the original Kayla.
‘Come to think of it… how much time do I have left?’
I stopped walking and tried to recall exactly when Zeno Harveston arrived in the capital—when he first appeared in the novel.
