Chapter 92
“We have to get engaged. That’s the only way….”
I don’t know why Allen’s face keeps coming to mind.
I already knew, through my father who abandoned my mother, just how unreliable love could be in this world.
I had seen it, learned it, more painfully than anyone else.
I knew all too well how believing in love only led to being abandoned and destroyed.
That’s why I should have accepted this engagement, loveless though it was.
Even if it meant escaping one hell only to be bound to another, at least I could breathe there. At least I could rise to the position that was said to be mine from birth—Crown Princess.
Since I had no love to give, I would not be hurt like my mother. I could sit there like a well-dressed doll, untouchable.
“What’s the point now?”
Canaria let out a bitter laugh.
Even though the relationship was built on calculation, she still felt a pang of disappointment.
But the reason for her refusal wasn’t hurt feelings.
It was suffocating boredom—the weariness of sitting in a seat chosen by others, never by herself.
She didn’t want to rise to a place where nothing reflected her own desires.
Perhaps, if she hadn’t met those sparkling eyes, hadn’t met Velia, she might have accepted.
“I miss you. I wonder if I’ll never see you again.”
Suddenly, fear welled up in her chest, but Canaria forced it down.
Velia wasn’t like the others.
Becoming Crown Princess wouldn’t make her abandon Canaria.
“…Should I leave?”
Canaria gazed blankly out the window.
If she went out, where could she even go?
No—could she even leave?
Knock, knock.
Lost in thought, Canaria startled and quickly stood up.
She hurriedly glanced at the clock on the wall. It wasn’t a time when anyone usually came to her room.
“…Who—”
Before she could finish, the door burst open without permission.
Eyes wide, Canaria straightened her posture.
“Mother, you’ve come…?”
“Canaria.”
It was the first time she’d seen her mother since the day the letter of annulment was delivered to the family.
She thought every possible slap and strike had already been dealt that day. But perhaps there was still more.
Canaria nervously glanced at the Duchess.
“Get ready. We have guests.”
“Guests…?”
Before she could even ask, the servants standing behind the Duchess rushed into the room.
“Dress her.”
They surrounded the bewildered Canaria.
“Be grateful you even have a younger brother who still bothers to call someone like you ‘sister.’”
With that, the Duchess left, the door shutting behind her.
“What do you mean by that? Cough—”
“Dear! Are you alright?”
The Marquess, who had been sharing a rare moment of tea with Soph, shot to his feet in shock, staggering.
“You must go immediately. The imperial investigation team is here.”
The aide urged him with unease.
“…What are you saying? That Bea, who was being delivered to the palace, was intercepted—and is now… here? In my mansion?!”
“Yes.”
Sophie’s mouth fell open in disbelief, asking in his stead.
“What do you mean by that!”
Bang! The Marquess slammed the table, making Soph flinch.
“Oh dear.”
“Ah, forgive me.”
He gave Soph a hasty apology, then turned to the aide.
“What do you mean? The imperial family issued search orders for noble estates in the capital—that much I know. His Majesty and I even discussed investigating whether the Duke’s house was involved. What I’m asking is—why is Bea in my mansion?!”
“I’m not sure, my lord. The investigation hasn’t even begun yet…”
“You said she came from the rear garden?”
“Yes.”
“The rear garden? Are there no gardeners there? No knights? How could Bea have been in a place so frequented, and no one noticed?!”
“Well…”
The aide hesitated, glancing nervously at Soph.
“She was found in the young master Barun’s storage shed.”
“What? Storage shed? You mean…”
The Marquess paled as the location came to mind. Soph, too, looked aghast.
“Barun’s shed?”
“In any case, my lord, you must go quickly. The imperial knights have already sent word to the palace, and the investigation team will arrive soon. We must clarify our family’s stance before then.”
The Marquess, understanding, hurried to prepare.
“I’ll be back.”
“Please go quickly.”
Before leaving, he turned back and lightly embraced Soph.
“Don’t overexert yourself.”
“Yes.”
He had come to see her only because the head maid had said her health was poor.
“Don’t worry, just go.”
“Alright. And you—don’t worry too much.”
After the Marquess left, Soph quickly summoned the head maid, Roni.
“Go at once and find out what’s happening in the rear garden.”
“Pardon?”
“Hurry! I need to know how things are unfolding.”
“Y-Yes!”
Looking anxious, Roni rushed out.
“My lady! Your medicine! I just boiled it!”
“I’ll take it myself. Go, quickly.”
“Yes!”
After Roni left in a hurry, Soph pressed her aching temples, alone.
The bitter scent of herbs soon filled the room.
“Why am I so dizzy…”
She leaned against the table, picked up the medicine bowl, and swallowed it in one gulp despite the taste.
“Ugh.”
Setting it down, she grabbed a piece of candy from beside it to kill the bitterness.
“…Why was Bea in our mansion…?”
The child had changed so much, achieving what once seemed impossible.
When Soph had heard Bea was attacked en route to the palace as tribute, she had been terrified.
Because her health was frail, everyone—including the Marquess—had hidden the news from her.
But the incident was too great; the whispers eventually reached her ears.
When she asked, her husband told her just moments ago it was likely the work of the Dalton Dukedom.
And now suddenly Bea was in their rear garden—inside Barun’s shed, no less.
“Ah…”
Swaying, Soph walked toward a short green cabinet.
It had been a gift from the Marquess during their courting days, bought at a market stall when he’d been hiding his noble status.
She stretched out her hand toward it.
Only three items rested on the cabinet.
One was Bea herself—the creation Velia had designed and made, claiming it was one-of-a-kind in the world.
Another was the trophy Bedol had brought home when he first won a swordsmanship competition.
And beside them stood a crystal figurine of an angel.
“…Barun.”
It had been his first gift to her, with the word “Mother” written on it.
Suddenly, unease surged up inside Soph. She shook her head.
Why was she remembering that moment from eight years ago?
“No… it was just a mistake.”
She hadn’t birthed him, but he was a son of her heart.
“Yes. A mistake. A mother shouldn’t think like this.”
She smothered her unease beneath maternal affection and guilt.
Resolute, she set the figurine back on the cabinet.
“No. It’s nothing.”
Her children, beautiful even without doing anything, had created these wonderful achievements themselves.
As a mother, she didn’t want to taint them with suspicion.
The image of a perfect family could never be allowed to crack.
She had endured society’s scorn to marry Marquess Arpedi.
And she hadn’t even met him until after the former Marquess’s wife had died.
Their relationship had grown a year later, at a gathering, never before. Yet gossipmongers claimed otherwise.
Despite rumors that the former Marquess’s wife had strayed, people pitied her, and painted Soph as the temptress who lured a married man.
Even with such lies, she had chosen love. She had chosen to become Barun’s mother.
Now that they finally looked like a perfect family, even the smallest hint of discord leaking outside would only fuel more vicious rumors.
And that would wound the children’s hearts most of all.
“…I should rest.”
Clutching her throbbing head, Soph turned away.
Suddenly, she covered her mouth, gagging.
As she clutched the cabinet for support, her legs gave out, and she collapsed to the floor.
The cabinet rattled, the items on top falling.
Crash!
The angel figurine shattered against the ground.
Blue liquid spread, staining the white Bea and golden trophy.
“Ugh—”
Unable to hold back, Soph vomited violently.
Red liquid splattered messily across the floor.
