With steady steps, she walked toward the dressing table.
For the first time since arriving at Evercrest Manor, she finally had the chance to take a proper look at the wedding gown she was wearing.
Her fingers lightly brushed against the exquisite fabric as she studied her reflection in the mirror.
The material was soft beneath her fingertips, and the delicate details embroidered across the gown were so carefully crafted that she could not help but admire the skill and effort that had gone into making it.
Though the gown had been tailored according to her sister’s measurements, it seemed to fit Sylvia perfectly, almost as though it had been made specifically for her.
She stared at her reflection for several seconds, her expression slowly becoming complicated.
She did not know whether she should feel happy or sad about the fact that such a perfect wedding dress had been worn to marry the wrong man.
Such a beautiful wedding dress deserved to be worn on a beautiful occasion.
It deserved to be worn by a woman who was walking down the aisle with a smile on her face, her heart filled with anticipation as she prepared to marry the man she loved.
Instead, Sylvia had worn it because she had been pushed into a wedding that had never been hers.
If only Damian had been the man of her dreams, someone she loved deeply, perhaps she would have looked at the dress differently.
Perhaps she would have admired herself in the mirror, smiled at her reflection, and allowed herself to feel like a real bride.
Instead, all she could feel was an emptiness that had settled heavily inside her chest.
She looked beautiful.
She looked exactly like a bride should look.
Yet, somehow, she did not feel like one.
Sylvia sighed softly, her fingertips falling away from the fabric.
However, before she could turn away from the mirror, another thought suddenly occurred to her.
Maybe it was a woman’s sixth sense, but she could not shake the strange feeling crawling insistently through her chest.
The fact that Leslie had apparently planned everything made Sylvia wonder if her sister might have also asked the designer to adjust the dress measurements to suit her.
After all, if Leslie had already planned to flee the wedding, perhaps she had been preparing for it long before anyone realized.
Thinking about it now, Sylvia remembered that the designer had insisted on taking her measurements when the dress was being prepared saying it was to have a dress costumed for her as a maid of honour.
At the time, Sylvia had tried to avoid it.
She was not the one walking down the aisle… so she had seen no reason to request for a customized dress as a maid of honour nor did she need to stand around while the designer measured her body.
But Leslie, after watching them argue back and forth, had eventually convinced her to cooperate.
She had even laughed and told Sylvia that it was not every day that she got the chance to have a customized dress made for her.
Sylvia’s eyes narrowed slightly as the memory returned.
‘Could it be that she had already planned for the dress to be altered at that time?’ She continued staring at herself through the mirror, her thoughts becoming increasingly complicated.
‘But Leslie went to the designer only a few days ago to check on the dress.’ That memory made everything even more confusing.
‘If Leslie had already made up her mind to run away, when exactly had she started making arrangements?’ Sylvia’s head began to throb painfully as she tried to piece everything together, but no matter how hard she thought about it, she could not find an answer.
The wedding had already come and gone, yet for some reason, she desperately wished to know when Leslie had begun planning everything in silence.
‘Was it a spur-of-the-moment decision, or had she meticulously planned everything long before the wedding day?’ Sylvia remained silent for a while, her reflection staring back at her as though it, too, was waiting for an answer.
Eventually, she shook her head, and a bitter smile crossed her lips.
‘I am really reading too much into this.
Maybe I should just let it go.’ There was no point exhausting herself over questions she could not answer.
‘Let’s focus on the task at hand.’ With that thought, Sylvia finally turned away from the mirror and walked toward the closet.
When she opened it, her eyes widened slightly and a small smile immediately appeared on her lips.
Inside were several beautiful dresses and a few sets of pajamas, all neatly arranged on the hangers as though someone had taken great care to prepare them.
Sylvia stepped closer and allowed her fingers to trail gently across the row of clothes.
There were no price tags and no obvious labels, but she did not need either to recognize their quality.
The fabric was soft and luxurious, and the stitching was so precise that she could immediately tell that every piece had been custom-made.
She glanced over the clothes again.
They seemed slightly bigger than her usual size.
Sure enough, they had most likely been prepared for her sister.
Sylvia’s hand faltered slightly.
Her eyes narrowed for a second as she considered the possibility, and then she slowly nodded.
‘It must be Grandpa Valen’s doing.’ She immediately thought of the cold elderly man who had actively introduced her to the family members upon her arrival.
A soft sigh escaped her lips.
Though Grandpa Valen had looked friendly enough, he was still the patriarch of the Evercrest family.
He was a man who was respected by everyone and feared by many.
Sylvia could hardly imagine someone like him personally going out of his way to prepare clothes for her.
Yet, despite his cold exterior, he had apparently made sure that she would have something to wear after the wedding.
Perhaps he had done it simply because he did not want his granddaughter-in-law wandering around Evercrest Manor without proper clothing.
Or perhaps he had simply instructed one of the servants to handle it without giving the matter much thought.
Whatever the reason was, Sylvia was grateful.
Knowing that she did not have to leave the room and seek Damian’s help to get new clothes made her shoulders sag with relief.
Speaking of Damian, she still remembered the expression of disgust that had flashed across the face of that arrogant jerk the moment her family’s name was mentioned.
The memory alone was enough to make her expression darken.
Sylvia was certain that Damian would never go out of his way to prepare anything like this.
At least, not for a woman he considered unworthy of entering the Evercrest family.
The thought irritated her so much that Sylvia unconsciously clenched her fist, tightening her fingers around the pajamas she was holding.
‘I will make you regret every single one of those words you said today,’ she swore silently.
Being called unworthy on the very first day they met?
She scoffed under her breath.
‘When had she ever suffered such humiliation?’