To Twist You Destiny _ Episode 03
The reason the protagonist of *Under the Rose Tree*, Dylan, dies could be summed up in one line—
Because he desired something that was never meant to be his.
That was marriage with Daphne.
Several years ago, Dylan had his life saved by Daphne by chance.
From that moment on, he began to desire her. In a way, she became his sole purpose.
Dreaming only of having Daphne, Dylan forced his way into high society. He amassed wealth through exceptional skill, and even went so far as to purchase a new identity.
*At present, Dylan is known as someone from the Hyangsa family.*
But the truth—that his status was fabricated—would soon begin to spread as rumor.
Evelyn herself had heard of it in the story. Of course, it wasn’t particularly shocking.
In an era where many traditional noble families had fallen and the line between nobility and commoners had begun to blur, Dylan was far from the only one to buy a ruined noble title to enter high society.
So perhaps… he really could have achieved his goal.
*If only he hadn’t had a rival.*
Unfortunately, Dylan had a dangerously formidable competitor.
His name was Rupert Mortier.
If Daphne was considered the most desirable bride in society, then Rupert was widely regarded as the most desirable groom.
At this very banquet, he would fall for Daphne at first sight, pursue her, and compete with Dylan.
And in the process, Rupert would dig into Dylan’s past—
That was the problem.
Dylan had a fatal secret, one that could destroy everything he had built.
*A rumor that he had killed his business partner.*
It was said that Dylan had murdered his close associate, Ryan, in order to seize complete control of their business and its profits.
This rumor had long followed him like a shadow, though no evidence had surfaced—until now.
Through Rupert, that evidence would come to light. Enraged by the truth, Ryan’s older brother would shoot and kill Dylan.
That was how Dylan Fitzroy’s story came to an end.
*Whether that evidence is even real… there’s no way to know right now.*
*Under the Rose Tree* was told from Evelyn’s perspective. That meant she did not know every detail.
By the time Evelyn learned of Dylan’s death, she had already been bedridden, hovering on the brink of death herself.
All she knew was what Daphne had told her.
With such fragmented information, there was no way to know exactly what had transpired between Dylan and Rupert—how Rupert obtained the evidence, or whether it was even genuine.
*Once they become entangled, it will be impossible to fix.*
If she wanted to prevent Dylan from ever being exposed to such danger, there was only one solution:
Never let him become Rupert’s rival in the first place.
*Dylan just needs to have nothing to do with Daphne.*
And fortunately, Evelyn knew exactly how to make that happen.
By proposing to Dylan herself.
“D-did you just hear that?”
“Lady Evelyn just…!”
Evelyn had worried her voice might be too quiet—but that concern proved unnecessary. In an instant, all eyes in the hall turned toward the two of them.
Amid the shifting atmosphere of the banquet, Evelyn looked at the man before her.
He looked impeccable in his perfectly tailored three-piece suit.
Even the shock twisting his expression couldn’t hide his striking features—though it certainly didn’t hide his sharp temper either.
From his tightly set lips came a low voice, restrained but filled with anger.
“What do you think you’re—”
“Evelyn!”
Her name was called first.
Turning at the familiar voice, she saw Clarence pushing through the crowd. The usual composure on his face was gone; instead, he approached her with a frightening expression she had never seen before.
“Evelyn, explain what exactly is going on here—”
“Eve!”
But someone reached her before he could.
It was Daphne.
Her closest friend came running, unable to contain her delight, lifting the hem of her dress as she grabbed Evelyn’s hand.
Evelyn knew well—when Daphne’s eyes sparkled like this, no one could stop her.
“A proposal? Oh my, Evelyn! This is so romantic!”
“…Daphne.”
“When did you plan this? You didn’t tell me a single thing! If it’s alright, introduce me to—”
“How awful.”
A sharp, low voice cut in.
Though it was only the second time she had heard it, Evelyn knew exactly who it belonged to.
Dylan Fitzroy.
Among everyone who had attended this banquet in hopes of marrying Daphne, he was now the only one completely disqualified.
Daphne, of all people, would never choose to enter a love triangle with her closest friend.
It was as if everything had fallen apart just as he stood on the brink of success.
Crash!
The glass Dylan had been holding shattered against the floor.
He shot Evelyn a glare, then turned on his heel and walked out of the hall.
It had happened in an instant, yet Evelyn clearly saw the contempt and anger on his face.
A sharp distortion, like cracks splitting through stone—and unmistakable resentment.
Only then did she feel her heart pounding painfully.
Only then did it truly sink in what she had done—
And what she would have to bear from now on.
Every gaze in the hall was fixed on her.
Fighting the urge to be sick, Evelyn turned back.
Clarence was staring at her with a terrifying expression.
“Evelyn… you do realize what you’ve just done.”
We need to talk.
—
The scandal—that the blue-blooded princess had proposed to the rebel of high society—spread through society like wildfire.
And because it had happened at a banquet meant to find Daphne a husband, it drew even more attention.
People eagerly passed the story around, afraid the excitement might die down if they didn’t.
But none of them realized that the one most troubled by all of this—
Was Dylan himself.
The dark-haired man loosened his tie irritably and tossed it onto his office desk.
“Noel. Has there been any word from the Primrose family?”
“I relayed your message as instructed… but there has been no response since, sir.”
“They still haven’t come to their senses.”
A few days had passed since the Whitewood banquet.
Dylan’s already fierce expression had grown so cold that, in this moment, it wouldn’t have been surprising if he stabbed someone.
With his tall frame, broad shoulders, and intimidating aura, he was never easy to approach.
Now, even Noel—his longtime secretary—was treading carefully around him.
As far as Noel could remember, the last time Dylan had been this irritable was two years ago, when he had worked without sleep for an entire week.
But anyone who knew his situation could understand.
*The only time he seemed even remotely human… was when he talked about marriage.*
Those close to Dylan generally knew that he loved someone.
Though, to be precise, whether it could truly be called love was a matter of debate.
Noel, however, believed it was.
He recalled a conversation he once had with a colleague.
—
“Noel, I need to see the boss. Why did he buy that estate? Even the imperial family sold it because they couldn’t maintain it. What is our company supposed to do with it? And what’s with the rose garden and vineyard…?”
“He said he’d use the roses and vineyard for his proposal. The estate will be the wedding venue.”
“…Is he out of his mind?”
—
The colleague from accounting had been utterly dumbfounded.
He knew his boss had long wanted to marry—but he hadn’t realized that “marriage” for Dylan meant spending money on the scale of a major business venture.
He left, muttering in disbelief.
But Noel, who had stood beside Dylan when he purchased the estate, could never bring himself to call him insane.
—
“From here to here, it will all be filled with roses. If we’re to marry in summer, we’ll need only the finest grapes. I just hope she’ll like it.”
—
Because in that moment—
As Dylan imagined the wedding—
He looked more alive than ever.
