“You need not concern yourself with the amount.
Duke Liam Crawford has already expressed his intention to pay.
It will proceed accordingly.”
‘He told me not to worry, and he’s already taken care of it.’ Liam had accepted her desperate confession, and they had promised each other a future.
He had agreed to handle the fearsome consequences.
“We confirm that the agreement between the royal family and the Sermont family is annulled at the ‘request’ of Lady Sermont,” the lawyer reiterated, clicking open a small velvet box.
“Finally, you will return the medal bestowed by the late king.”
Arlen handed over the royal medal her grandfather had cherished.
The light of her family’s honor, her father’s pride, was extinguished with a soft click.
“With this, all is settled.”
With those cold words, the lawyer gathered his papers, handed Arlen a copy, and departed with the ministers who had served as witnesses.
By returning the medal, the contract was void.
For breaking an agreement with the royal family, it was a merciful price.
Arlen was left alone.
The resolution had been anticlimactic, a simple matter of paperwork that made her previous anxiety seem foolish, but her heart remained heavy.
“Lady Arlen, what is the meaning of this?” Baron Carriott’s betrayed face.
Regina’s shocked expression twisting into something ugly.
The Queen’s silent rebuke, sending only a lawyer in response to her request for an audience.
“Will you truly not regret this?”
She swore she had never imagined she could be so impulsive.
Even if her father were to rise from his grave and scold her, it couldn’t be helped.
She loved this man enough that her own transformation felt unfamiliar.
As she crossed the corridor, a heavy door swung open, flooding the space with sunlight.
She blinked, and as her eyes adjusted, she saw a golden carriage waiting at the entrance.
A tall man stepped out.
Edel had fully entered spring, and in the warm air, Liam wore a light suit jacket instead of a coat.
The sight of him made her break into a trot.
“When did you get here?”
“The papers,” he said, his voice a low, intimate murmur.
“Here.”
She held out the annulment document.
He smiled, and in that instant, all her lingering worries vanished like dust.
There was no anxiety.
Even if a day came when she regretted this, she felt no hesitation in her choice now.
After a whirlwind courtship of less than a season, the wedding was decided.
The sudden announcement turned Edel on its head.
The date was set for exactly one month after the station photograph appeared in the papers, an astonishingly quick arrangement that stunned a public who thought they could be surprised no more.
There had been signs, of course—the scandal had been raging for weeks—but no one had predicted marriage.
Putting aside the fact that she had been the Crown Prince’s fiancée, the difference in their stations was simply too vast.
Her betrothal to the prince had been absurd enough.
While that had been justified by the late king’s will, what reason was there for a marriage between Duke Liam Crawford and a viscount’s daughter?
Her family had been noble for less than half a century, a history almost too brief to mention.
It was an alliance that the proud aristocracy, who valued lineage above all, would never easily accept.
But for Arlen, ever since they had confirmed their feelings, life had been a dream.
Despite the rushed schedule, she felt as if she were walking on clouds.
The confession she had feared was impulsive had melted away the moment she heard his gentle response.
Sitting on her bed, Arlen packed the books she had kept since her time in Nortonburg.
Betty, helping her, wore a troubled expression.
“Betty, do you still think my decision was hasty?”
“No.
It’s just…”
Betty, who had been a constant, anxious presence, had deliberately avoided speaking of the Duke since the engagement was announced.
“Don’t worry.
I’m taking you with me.”
“Me too?”
“Of course.
Or do you not want to come?”
“No!
Please, let me come with you.”
Arlen extended her hand, and Betty took it, nodding with a determined look.
She had been prepared to beg to be taken along.
It wasn’t just about escaping the future torment of Regina and the other maids.
She knew, better than anyone, how lonely Arlen’s life had been, and she wanted to stay by her side for as long as she could.
Smiling shyly, Arlen stood and threw the window open.
The scent of spring blossoms drifted in on the breeze.
As she did, Betty hastily hid a weekly magazine under the sofa.
It was not something a bride on the verge of her wedding should see.
Perhaps due to Betty’s efforts to shield her from the papers, Arlen was smiling as brightly as the spring day.
The hem of her skirt fluttered around her ankles as she moved with a light step.
The sky was a beautiful, cloudless blue, and the air was as sweet as spun sugar.
All of it was because of him.
‘Still, now that I’m really leaving, I feel a little sad.’
“Don’t worry,” Arlen reassured her.
“He said he would help us after we’re married, once the new bill passes.
We’ll be able to come back here then.”
Liam had offered three times the bid price for the Sermont estate, but the Viscountess had withdrawn it from auction.
Her change of heart was likely because, with Arlen no longer becoming Crown Princess, the chance for a new title had vanished.
As much as she loved money, she must have been unwilling to lose her noble status.
Liam had explained that even if Belcon became the head of the family for now, Arlen could appeal and reclaim her home after the law was revised.
Spring sunlight streamed down on Arlen’s face.
She had found a way to protect her family, and she had found love.
Luxurious carriages streamed through the golden iron gates, which were embossed with the crest of a white eagle perched on a thorny branch.
It was no exaggeration to say that the wedding of the woman who chose a duke over a crown prince had captured the attention of every citizen in Edel.
The procession of nobles invited to the grand ceremony was endless.
The press corps was in a frenzy, eager to capture the great families who had not gathered in one place for a long time.
Every time a carriage bearing a different crest passed through the main gate, the hands of the reporters massed outside moved in a flurry.
Carriages streamed between rows of spruce trees, their destination the magnificent mansion crowning the hill.
The sight sent reporters into a frenzy, their shutters clicking furiously.
Bathed in the spring sunlight, the grand estate stood as proud as an ancient castle—Cloud Hill, an enchanting picture at the end of a road shrouded in blue mist.
As the reporters stared, hungry for a story, a murmur erupted from behind them.
“It’s a royal carriage!” someone exclaimed, recognizing the coach that had just emerged from the cedar forest onto the approach road.
The reporters, who had been pressed against the estate’s gates, spun around and swarmed toward the roadside.
An ornate four-horse carriage drew closer, the banner emblazoned with the red peony of the royal family fluttering in the wind.
“Everyone, stand back!” the guards shouted.
The line broke in an instant, and though the guards scrambled to regain control, the carriage was forced to a crawl, unable to pass.
“Prince Viden!” a reporter who had broken through the cordon yelled at the top of his lungs.
In response, a curtained window slid open.
Prince Viden revealed his face, offering a light wave to the long line of reporters.
His blond hair, a shade lighter than Liam’s, swayed softly.
A barrage of flashes followed, all attempting to capture his practiced smile.
“What brings you here, Your Highness?
What is the royal family’s view on this marriage?” a reporter called out.
“It is my only cousin’s wedding.
Of course, I had to be here,” Viden replied, his smile unwavering, his answer impeccably formal.
Unlike the rigid Duke Crawford, he possessed a relaxed demeanor and a practiced ease with the press.
But tactless fools could be found anywhere, and a question designed to shatter the pleasantries was hurled next.
“Prince Viden, how do you feel, having had your fiancée stolen from you?”
For a fraction of a second, his faint smile faltered, but years as a prince had taught him impeccable control.
He composed himself instantly.
“I am happy for them both,” Viden said smoothly.
“Their happiness is my own.”
His serene demeanor, showing no sign of resentment, exuded the magnanimity befitting the Crown Prince.
It was a performance that instantly dispelled the rumors that the relationship between the royal family and Duke Crawford had soured after Arlen Sermont had broken their engagement.
While the reporters stood dumbfounded, guards rushed in to clear a path, and the carriage disappeared into the grand estate.
As the noise of the press faded, silence once again fell inside the coach.
“Why bother opening the window to greet them?” Lester asked, not looking up from his book.
“If they’re going to take our picture anyway, isn’t it better they get a proper shot of this handsome face?” Viden shot back with a grin.
He was in an excellent mood.
He had been worried that a minor problem from his diplomatic tour might leak to the press, but his fears were unfounded.
The papers in Stoneburn were obsessed with only one thing: Liam Crawford’s wedding.
“You have some nerve,” Lester muttered.
“I heard they’re calling you a fool for letting your fiancée be stolen.”