Episode 9 – The Garden of Masks
Azrael (thinking):
“Hunting takes patience.”
To enjoy the thrill of capturing her prey, she had to endure some discomfort too.
Patrick slowly pulled back after kissing the back of her hand. Azrael nearly sighed in relief but managed to swallow it down and smile politely.
Just the day before, she’d worried she might still have feelings for him that maybe her revenge would falter. After all, they had been physically close for years.
But now? She laughed at her foolish self from yesterday. Just that light kiss on her hand made her skin crawl like bugs were crawling on her. Her feelings had completely changed. The same touch felt disgusting now.
Patrick (calling out):
“Lady Azrael!”
She blinked and pulled from her thoughts.
Patrick (smirking):
“What were you thinking about? I’ve been calling you.”
Azrael (quickly):
“Oh, I was just wondering how to apologize to Your Highness.”
Patrick:
“You could’ve just asked. I’d be happy to help.”
He smiled warmly, the very same smile Azrael once loved. A smile meant to charm her.
Patrick (playfully):
“If you’re sorry, how about making it up to me with a date?”
He never missed an opportunity.
Azrael, who fully intended to lead him on and break his heart, smiled sweetly. She nodded shyly.
Patrick (brightening):
“Then come to the Crown Prince’s palace tomorrow! The garden there is quite famous. Maybe not as grand as the Empress’s, but still beautiful.”
She knew. Of course, she knew. She had been the Crown Princess for two years.
But the thought of going back there now made her stomach turn especially knowing Angela had probably visited that same garden many times before marriage. It wasn’t jealousy. It was disgusting.
Angela had even become her maid at one point, pretending to be close friends. But now she knew that was all a lie.
Azrael didn’t want to imagine how many times the two had met in secret in that garden. She had been fooled for too long already.
Patrick (gently):
“If it’s okay with you, would you join me for tea in the garden tomorrow?”
Azrael didn’t answer right away. She forced a bright smile onto her face as Patrick started to look nervous.
Azrael:
“If it’s that beautiful, I’d love to see it, Your Highness. I’d be honored by the invitation.”
Patrick beamed and began talking excitedly about the palace and its beauty. Azrael just kept smiling, pretending to enjoy his words.
The Next Day
Azrael arrived at the Crown Prince’s palace at the arranged time. A servant was already waiting to guide her into the garden.
As she walked through the familiar path, the garden unfolded before her eyes just as she remembered. It was spring, and the air was filled with the sweet scent of blooming flowers.
Patrick stood up from the tea table and smiled as he saw her approach. He still looked charming but to Azrael, that charm meant nothing anymore.
She sat across from him, and tea was served.
Azrael (brightly):
“What a beautiful garden, Your Highness. I’ve never seen anything so lovely!”
In truth, she had seen this garden so many times in her past life she had grown tired of it. But she acted as if it were new and wonderful.
She had learned well how to wear a mask.
In her past life, Azrael had quickly risen to power in high society. Her intelligence and grace made her popular, and she had mastered the art of appearances. That had made Patrick feel insecure though she hadn’t realized it back then.
Azrael (thinking):
“Acting like this is easier than sipping soup lying down.”
She was used to pretending. The social world was a jungle full of predators. You couldn’t survive by being naïve. Even if she’d been fooled in love, she had been sharp in everything else. Everyone used to say no one was more fit to be Empress than her.
Even the Emperor and Empress had never complained about an event she organized.
But thinking back now, she wondered had the Empress ever truly liked her?
Probably not. The Empress had always focused on making her son Emperor. She must have supported Patrick’s plan to eliminate her family’s power. Maybe she even led it.
Neither Azrael nor her father, Duke Nocturne, had ever planned to betray the crown. But Patrick, trapped in his inferiority complex, had made irrational choices maybe under Angela’s influence.
Azrael shook off her thoughts. This was war, and she couldn’t afford to get distracted.
She sat upright, picked up the silver spoon, and gently stirred her tea. Then, she lifted the cup with two fingers so elegant, so perfect.
Everything about her was graceful. Patrick was watching closely and couldn’t help admiring her.
Patrick (thinking):
“She’s incredibly elegant. She doesn’t seem like a young debutante at all Maybe it’s because she’s the Nocturne Duke’s daughter.”
Her every move, her posture, her expression they were all flawless. She was far beyond any other young lady. Even compared to Angela, she had a completely different level of dignity.
Patrick (thinking):
“She’s perfect Empress material.”
And she came with the strongest political backing. The Nocturne family was exactly what he needed.
But Patrick was no longer just interested in her background. He was falling for her. From the moment she walked into the ballroom and bowed to the Emperor and Empress, he couldn’t take his eyes off her.
He had seen her with Leonard and if he hadn’t acted fast, he might have lost her. Leonard, his older brother, was cold but powerful and oddly popular with women.
Patrick always felt uneasy around him, especially because his current title as Crown Prince wasn’t earned, but given.
That made him cling harder to Azrael.
He had thought she would simply be the Nocturne family’s heiress, but she turned out to be so much more—elegant, intelligent, beautiful. She enchanted him completely.
Patrick (gently):
“Lady Azrael, what kind of dessert do you like? I’ll have our royal patissier prepare anything you want.”
Azrael (softly):
“I don’t like sweet things, Your Highness. So I don’t have a favorite.”
Patrick (surprised):
“That’s unexpected. Most young ladies adore sweets.”
Azrael gave a small, secret smile, remembering the past.
She had been poisoned several times before. So much so, that she even began to doubt her food. She remembered the Empress whispering advice to her:
Empress (coldly):
“Patrick is Crown Prince now, but his position isn’t stable. That’s why you, as his wife, must act.”
Azrael (nervous):
“What do you mean, Your Majesty?”
Empress (firmly):
“If anyone stands in his way, kill them. Or make sure they’re ruined. That’s your duty as Crown Princess.”
Azrael blinked, pushing away the memory.
No more looking back. Now, she had to win this game with her mind, her beauty, and her mask.
