Elysia paused, genuinely bewildered.
"What did you say, Your Highness?"
Vaelen looked at her coldly, unmistakable mockery lacing his voice.
"You’ve already announced your intention to marry my uncle. There’s no need to keep clinging to me." His gaze swept over her dismissively. "That kind of persistence only makes me sick."
For a moment, Elysia simply stared at him.
Then understanding dawned.
So that was what he thought.
In her previous life, scenes like this had happened countless times.
She always wanted to explain herself. Yet every time, fear stopped her. Fear of saying the wrong thing. Fear that he would dislike her even more. So she stayed silent again and again, allowing him to misunderstand her however he pleased.
But now?
She no longer cared.
How Vaelen viewed her no longer mattered at all.
Elysia pressed her lips together briefly before speaking calmly.
"Your Highness, I have never intended to cling to you. At the family banquet, I already made myself clear before His Majesty. I do not have feelings for you."
She paused slightly the added, "Not in the slightest."
Vaelen raised a brow.
"Oh?" he drawled. "Then today, did you simply wander into the palace by coincidence and happen to run into me?"
"I came because Her Majesty summoned me," Elysia replied evenly. "Even if you don’t believe me, surely you trust Hilda."
Vaelen’s gaze shifted toward the maidservant.
Hilda stepped forward with a courteous smile. "Her Majesty did indeed summon Lady Elysia."
She had served the Queen for many years. There was no reason for her to lie on Elysia’s behalf.
So Elysia truly had not come here for him.
For some reason, that realization only deepened the irritation gnawing at Vaelen’s chest.
"I will soon marry Duke Cassiel," Elysia continued calmly. "Her Majesty is overseeing the wedding arrangements personally. Today, she asked me to come choose an auspicious wedding date."
Then she added softly, "If Your Highness still doubts me, you may ask Her Majesty yourself."
When the words left her mouth, Elysia felt unexpectedly lighter.
As though some invisible chain around her heart had finally snapped.
Vaelen, however, felt anything but relieved.
His eyes fixed on her.
"My uncle has remained unconscious for a long time," he said coldly. "The physicians already believe he may never wake in this lifetime."
He took another step closer.
"If you marry him, you’ll spend the rest of your life alone."
Elysia thought quietly:
In my previous life, I married you.
And I was alone until the day I died.
Her expression never changed though.
Instead, she curved her lips into a faint smile.
"Thank you for your concern, Your Highness. But as I said before, I have admired Duke Cassiel for a long time." Her voice remained gentle and composed. "As long as I may stay by his side, I don’t mind whether he is awake or unconscious."
Vaelen’s expression darkened instantly.
Elysia turned toward Hilda.
"We should go," she said softly. "We shouldn’t keep Her Majesty waiting."
Then she walked past him without another glance.
Vaelen remained where he stood, watching her retreating figure.
For the briefest moment, another image surfaced in his mind.
A younger Elysia.
Shy.
Nervous.
Her eyes lowered as she whispered softly:
"Your Highness, I’m very happy to marry you."
The memory flickered like rippling water before vanishing completely.
A strange heaviness settled in his chest.
As though something important was slipping beyond his grasp.
Inside the hall, the Queen had already been waiting for some time.
The moment Elysia entered, the Queen smiled warmly and beckoned her closer.
"Elysia, you’ve finally arrived."
Her tone sounded pleasant enough, though little warmth reached her eyes.
"Come. Sit beside me."
Elysia did not move immediately.
Instead, she performed a proper curtsy.
"Your Majesty."
The Queen’s smile deepened slightly. "You’ve always been such a well-mannered child."
Her gaze shifted behind Elysia briefly.
"Why did you come alone?"
Elysia understood the meaning hidden beneath the question immediately.
Still, she pretended not to notice.
"There’s only me left at Hartwell Manor," she answered quietly. "No one remains to accompany me."
The Queen’s expression stiffened for only an instant before softening once more.
"Enough of such sad matters," she said lightly. "Come and look at the dates."
Two wedding dates had already been written neatly upon the parchment before them.
The third of June.
The nineteenth of October.
The moment Elysia saw the second date, her fingers tightened unconsciously.
October nineteenth.
The very day she married Vaelen in her previous life.
They once called it an auspicious day.
Yet relentless rain had poured from morning until night. The wedding procession became soaked through, and whispers spread before the ceremony had even ended.
People claimed Elysia carried ill fortune.
Some even said she would bring disaster upon the royal family.
"In my opinion," the Queen said thoughtfully, "October nineteenth is the better choice."
She looked toward Elysia.
"Why not select that one?"
Elysia smiled faintly.
"Thank you for Your Majesty’s consideration. But I believe June third would be better."
The Queen looked mildly surprised.
"It is already April," she said. "Wouldn’t June be too rushed?"
"It would," Elysia admitted softly. "But I wish to marry Duke Cassiel as soon as possible."
As she spoke, she allowed the slightest trace of shyness to appear across her face.
Perfectly natural.
Perfectly timed.
At that exact moment, footsteps sounded from outside the hall.
Vaelen entered.
The instant her words reached him, his steps faltered almost imperceptibly.
His jaw tightened.
Is she truly that eager to marry?
"Vaelen arrived at the perfect time," the Queen said with a smile. "Elysia insists on marrying in June, but I believe October would be more appropriate. Help me persuade her. She has always listened to you since childhood."
Vaelen glanced toward Elysia.
His voice turned sharp immediately.
"If she’s so eager to marry my uncle, why delay her good fortune?" he said coldly. "If the wedding gets pushed to October, she might complain behind our backs instead."
The words carried open ridicule.
Yet Elysia only smiled.
"His Highness is right," she replied calmly. "Then let the wedding be held on June third."
She lifted her gaze politely.
"I hope Your Highness will honor us with your presence on that day."
Vaelen’s eyes darkened dangerously.
A cold smile tugged at his lips before he turned back toward the Queen.
"I still have matters to attend to," he said curtly. "I’ll take my leave."
The Queen nodded. "Don’t overwork yourself."
Vaelen gave a perfunctory response and left without another word.
Elysia rose as well, preparing to excuse herself.
Then the Queen spoke again.
"Oh, Elysia."
She turned back.
"You know Cassiel remains unconscious," the Queen said thoughtfully. "He cannot personally escort the bride from Hartwell Manor."
Her fingers tapped lightly against the table.
"According to custom, someone unmarried from the royal family must take his place."
The Queen smiled gently.
"I was thinking perhaps Vaelen—"
"No."
The refusal left Elysia’s lips almost immediately.
The Queen looked startled.
Elysia lowered her gaze calmly.
"His Highness bears many important responsibilities. I wouldn’t dare trouble him over such matters."
Then she added after a brief pause:
"Leonhart would be more suitable. He is unmarried, of proper age, and close enough in standing."
If Vaelen escorted her personally, he would only find more opportunities to humiliate her.
The Queen studied her quietly before nodding.
"Very well."
On the journey back to Hartwell Manor, memories from Elysia’s childhood surfaced one after another.
Back then, her grandfather often entered the palace to teach Vaelen riding and archery.
He frequently brought Elysia along.
In that sense, she and Vaelen truly had grown up together.
Once upon a time, they shared everything.
They sneaked out of the palace together.
Ran through crowded streets laughing breathlessly.
Fought over pastries and sweets like ordinary children.
Then one year, a runaway carriage barreled through the marketplace toward them.
Without thinking, Elysia shoved Vaelen out of the way.
The carriage missed him completely.
But she fell hard against the stone road instead.
Her left knee struck the ground violently, leaving her unable to walk properly for months.
At the time, Vaelen was so panicked that his face turned pale.
Sweat soaked through his robes as he gripped her hand tightly.
"I’ll take care of you forever," he promised desperately.
Elysia lowered her eyes.
When had everything changed?
When had affection become disgust?
In her previous life, she tortured herself endlessly over that question.
She cried through countless sleepless nights trying to understand.
In the end, not only did her old knee injury worsen constantly, even her eyesight began deteriorating from exhaustion and grief.
By the final years of her marriage, she could barely see clearly in dim light.
This time, however, she no longer wished to dwell on it.
There was no point asking why Vaelen came to hate her.
In this world, aside from life and death, everything else seemed insignificant.
As the wedding day drew closer, preparations began throughout the palace, Hartwell Manor, and Draevenor Manor alike.
Scarlet decorations appeared almost everywhere within the Crown Prince’s residence.
Living there, Vaelen could hardly avoid seeing them.
After several days of growing irritation, he finally left his chambers for some air.
At that exact moment, a servant announced a visitor.
Leonhart Drakemont.
The eldest legitimate son of Duke Roland.
The two men met inside the study.
"You came for something?" Vaelen asked casually.
Leonhart grinned broadly.
"Well, Uncle Cassiel is getting married, isn’t he?" He dropped lazily into a chair. "Her Majesty said she needs to select someone from the royal family to escort the bride from Hartwell Manor."