CHAPTER 41….
Phew… What should I do?
Should I say I want to wear a different dress for the wedding instead of this one? But if I suddenly say that, Mother will think it strange.
Hiding her tangled emotions, Etisha ran her hand over the gown’s hem. The surface, studded with white diamonds, felt wonderfully smooth.
“Well… it’s not as though there haven’t been exceptions.”
Lady Cyrileze spoke calmly.
“There was once a Duchess of Wintel who wore a different gown for her wedding.”
As she adjusted the fall of Etisha’s dress herself, her eyes held a faint trace of regret, as if recalling something from long ago.
“That was me.”
“…What? You, Mother?”
“Yes. On my wedding day, I did not wear this dress. And my husband did not wear that uniform, either.”
Etisha blinked in surprise.
Lady Cyrileze slipped a hand around her shoulder and led her toward the mirror. Reflected within were the two of them—Etisha in the wedding gown, and Lady Cyrileze beside her.
“That’s how it was. No one can truly know what the future holds.”
“….”
“So, my dear, don’t fret over the little things.”
Etisha gazed at her own reflection.
Just as Lady Cyrileze and Head Maid Gertha had said, the dress suited her perfectly.
Her features weren’t especially sharp or striking, and her hair color wasn’t particularly bold—yet the dress fit her as if made for her.
It truly suited her.
In it, she looked like the most radiant, beloved bride in the world.
Meeting her own eyes in the mirror, Etisha thought back.
When she first heard it was a Wintel heirloom, the dress had felt heavy on her shoulders. But now… not quite so much.
Because Lady Cyrileze had said there could be exceptions.
Don’t fret over the little things…?
Perhaps she had been overthinking all along.
Even Lady Cyrileze herself had worn another gown at her wedding—maybe Etisha didn’t need to treat the matter with such gravity.
At that moment, she remembered what she had told Marin earlier in her room:
“All this time, I’ve been thinking only about wanting to know the Duke… but maybe knowing myself should come first…”
Erase the small worries. Think about herself first.
Just like when she sang.
Etisha smiled at her reflection.
And the woman in the mirror smiled back at her, as if in reply.
Only two weeks left.
The wedding was truly just around the corner.
Lady Cyrileze walked her to the door.
“My dear, seeing you here at the Snow Castle feels different somehow. Come visit again.”
The lady followed her all the way outside to bid farewell. Etisha returned the warmth in kind.
“Yes, Mother. If you ever have time, just let me know and I’ll come right away. All you have to do is call.”
“My, you… What if I call you tomorrow, then?”
Lady Cyrileze waved a hand sharply—something that might seem brusque to an outsider, but to Etisha it was nothing but endearing.
“That would make me happy. In fact, I’d be glad if you invited me over this very evening.”
“Oh…”
“Shall I really come tomorrow, then?”
“Ah, no, I didn’t quite mean it that way… Though if you did, I wouldn’t mind…”
“I’d like that, Mother. Let’s see each other tomorrow.”
“Well…! Fine, then.”
Lady Cyrileze turned quickly away, clearly not wanting Etisha to see her flushed face.
Mother is adorable… maybe even more so than Marin.
On the way back to the main castle, Etisha amused herself by trying to decide who was cuter—Lady Cyrileze or Marin—but the result was a tie; their charm was simply different in kind.
So I’ll be going back to the Snow Castle tomorrow, then.
Since they had promised to have tea together, she would be visiting again.
The Snow Castle… it was beautiful…
As she pictured its pure white walls, like her wedding gown, another figure naturally came to mind—someone who lived there with Lady Cyrileze.
Cayenne’s father, the former Duke of Wintel.
Kailes Wintel.
When will he return?
Cayenne had told her his father had left temporarily on diplomatic business. He was expected back before the wedding, but with only two weeks left, she had yet to meet him.
I wonder when I’ll see him…
She imagined the Kailes Wintel she’d seen only in portraits.
Would he be, as the rumors claimed, the cold, ruthless, merciless Sword of the North?
Or perhaps a good man like the Duke?
Cayenne had told her not to expect much—but Etisha couldn’t simply erase the former Duke from her mind.
…Father.
And, like mold that returned in summer, her thoughts strayed again to the bothersome subject of Viscount Heinz.
Raksen.
A single horse galloped urgently toward the warp station. Its rider’s hood was pulled low, but the attire was far from that of a commoner.
“Huff… huff…”
A flash of thick, red hair peeked out from beneath the blue hood.
The Heinz family’s troublemaker, the scandalous darling of high society—Larienne Heinz.
“This is so annoying.”
Larienne had run away from home.
Her stepfather, Viscount Heinz, had forbidden her outright from going north. Worse, he controlled the funds needed to use the warp station.
At this rate, she wouldn’t just miss Etisha’s wedding—she wouldn’t even get near the North.
But Larienne was not one to yield to opposition.
Once her temper was lit, she would find a way to go north, no matter what.
Honestly, Father’s ridiculous. Do you know how many connections I’ve brought to him? If you think about it, I’m the one who’s filled the family coffers!
And yet, to block her over the paltry cost of a warp ticket…
Of course, money wasn’t his only reason. If Larienne attended the Wintel wedding, chaos was guaranteed.
Hmph. Whatever. I don’t care anymore.
Dismounting, Larienne reached into her hood. From inside her cloak, she pulled a pouch heavy with gold coins—all from Viscount Heinz’s treasury.
Heh.
Right before running away, she had robbed the family vault.
And without Lady Dorothea’s help, it wouldn’t have been possible.
When Larienne had threatened that she’d rather bite her tongue and die than miss going north, Lady Dorothea had reluctantly agreed to be her accomplice.
I’ll finally see Tisha…
Abandoning her horse without a second thought, Larienne ran toward the warp station. She had to hurry—Viscount Heinz or the household staff might come after her.
But the way was crowded.
The main street of Raksen, lined with shops, was packed with merchants and travelers—everyone in her way.
So she darted into a quieter alley, her boots pounding the narrow path. She had used the warp station many times before, so she was confident she wouldn’t get lost.
“…!”
But then—
Something dark and solid jutted out in front of her. She stopped abruptly, but couldn’t avoid colliding.
“Ah!”
She bounced backward from what she thought was a pillar, but when her eyes met it, she saw black hair, black eyes.
Not a pillar—a person, cloaked entirely in black.
“Do you know who I am? How dare you harm a noblewoman! Watch where you’re going!”
Larienne barked at the black-clad man, then took off running again. Normally she would have summoned someone to punish him, but now wasn’t the time.
Panting, she arrived at the warp station.
Once she boarded, no one would be able to catch her.
She paid the fare, still catching her breath—when she overheard voices nearby.
“Lord Kailes, it’s time for your departure.”
“Mm. My turn already? Very well… Let’s return to Wintel.”
Kailes…? Wintel…?
Larienne’s head whipped around toward the source.
There, standing beside a carriage emblazoned with Wintel’s eagle crest, was a man in a richly tailored uniform.
Kailes Wintel… the Duke’s father?
It was like finding a gold mine.
If she simply followed them, she could reach the Wintel estate easily, even in the vast North.
No, wait. Why should I follow them?
Why should Larienne Heinz lower herself to something so shabby?
She removed her robe, straightened the creases in her riding clothes, and let her hair tumble loose over her shoulders.
Even that small change made her stand out immediately.
Larienne’s dominance in the capital’s social scene came from one thing—charm. An almost magical allure that drew people in.
She had never met Kailes Wintel before, but she was confident she could win him over.
“Excuse me.”
Head held high, she approached the former Duke.
Up close, Kailes Wintel’s resemblance to Cayenne was startling. He was older, of course, but so handsome he could pass for Cayenne’s elder brother.
“Please forgive the impertinence of introducing myself first. I am Larienne of the Heinz family—elder sister to Etisha, who will soon become Duchess of Wintel.”
She gave her greeting.
Had they met at a party, she would have curtsied, lifting the hem of her gown as per noble etiquette for ladies—but here, outdoors and dressed in riding pants, she gave the greeting of a male noble instead.
Anyone else might have been shocked at such boldness.
Kailes Wintel, however, gave no visible reaction.
“I see.”
Only two words. Cold and curt.
It didn’t seem as though he was being icy because of any poor relationship between Etisha and Larienne. In fact, it seemed he didn’t even know who Etisha—or the Heinz family—were.
“So it’s true, then. Cayenne really is getting married…”
He didn’t even seem to know much about his own son’s wedding.
