Warm sunlight streamed through the stained glass windows of the church.
Inside the bride’s dressing room, Flare Rickbelt, draped in a pure white wedding gown sat on a chair placed beside the window.
Her lustrous platinum-blonde hair was elegantly styled and gathered beneath a delicate veil. Subtle makeup adorned her face, which carried a refined, mature composure that belied her twenty-two years. She briefly bit her lips, painted in a soft shade of pink, before turning her turquoise-blue eyes toward the view outside.
Since the dressing room was situated at the far edge of the church, she could see a fleet of carriages parked at the carriage stop. She scanned the area for a familiar family crest, but found none.
“Has Lord Samuel still not returned?”
“My deepest apologies. I have sent another messenger to check on his whereabouts at once.”
When Flare asked in a somewhat stiff voice, the head butler of the Walsh family—the groom’s house—answered, his face pale with anxiety.
Flare had been sitting here doing nothing for over half an hour after finishing her preparations. What concerned her above all was that the guests had already been escorted inside the chapel. They were waiting eagerly for the main stars of the day, Flare and Samuel, to make their entrance.
“We cannot keep the guests waiting forever.”
“…I understand.”
With nothing left to say in his defense, the butler bowed his head deeply.
“Rather than bowing to me, wouldn’t it be better if you figured out how to explain this to our guests?”
Her words carried a touch of quiet irony.
On a monumental milestone like one’s wedding day, no one could possibly imagine that the groom himself was missing.
With those thoughts swirling in her mind, Flare lowered her eyes.
(Why must I go through something like this here?)
No matter how many times she thought about it, she couldn’t make sense of the situation.
(How many times… how many more times must I endure this in the future?)
Samuel, wearing a white groom’s suit that matched hers, had been in this very room just a short while ago. His dark blonde hair and emerald-green eyes glistened under the sunlight, making him look positively dazzling alongside his handsome attire—a man whom many praised for his striking looks.
Flare, who had harbored a trace of anxiety about this marriage, had felt at ease after seeing the gentle smile he directed at her.
And yet, the instant he heard an urgent message brought from his territory, he dashed right out of the dressing room. Without a word about when he would return, or what would happen to their wedding.
“I cannot wait around until your messenger returns.”
Sighing deeply, Flare rested her hand against her temple, which throbbed with a faint ache.
At her words, the Walsh family butler snapped his head up in shock.
“We are canceling the wedding.”
“M-My Lady, you cannot! What shall we tell the esteemed guests in attendance?!”
“Shall I tell them that Lord Samuel ran off?”
“That is…”
Naturally, he couldn’t possibly say such a thing. If he did, the gossip-loving nobles would immediately whisper throughout the social circle that Flare had been jilted by her groom moments before the ceremony.
“Tell the guests that Lord Samuel was suddenly taken ill, and that the wedding is canceled as a result.”
“However, if we do that…”
It was obvious from the butler’s expression that he didn’t want it publicly known that the wedding was called off due to a fault of the Walsh family.
“Then what do you propose we tell them? My family and our guests already know that I am here.”
In fact, Flare’s friends had come by the dressing room earlier to greet her. If she claimed that she, who had been in perfect health until a moment ago had suddenly fallen ill, no one would believe it.
To say nothing of her family, who would surely never forgive Samuel’s insulting behavior toward her.
“The longer we stall, the more we fuel their curiosity.”
“…Understood.”
Faced with Flare’s firm stance, the butler bowed his head with a bitter, anguished look on his face.
Flare Rickbelt and Samuel Walsh met during their student days at the academy attended by noble sons and daughters.
The academy, catering to young youths aged sixteen to eighteen, served as a miniature high society. Besides pursuing their studies, the connections made there were vital for their lives after graduation.
Their initial meeting was sparked by a trivial matter.
The Rickbelt Earl Family was a distinguished house with a long history in the Kingdom of Luarl, boasting ownership of the nation’s premier merchant guild.
Furthermore, Flare’s poised demeanor and captivating beauty were frequently talked about in noble circles.
As a result, the fiancé of a certain Viscount’s daughter became smitten with Flare, souring the relationship between the engaged couple.
Of course, for Flare, it was nothing more than an absolute stray bullet.
When she was suddenly cornered by the Viscount’s daughter and her friends, left utterly exasperated by the confrontation, Samuel had happened to walk by and come to her rescue.
Samuel, too, was a prominent figure at the academy. As the son of a Marquis with radiant, striking looks, there was hardly anyone who hadn’t heard rumors about him.
Following that encounter, the two found themselves in the same class and elective courses. As they shared friendly conversations, their bond deepened, and they eventually began dating.
That was when they were seventeen, meaning their relationship had spanned nearly five years. Five years was quite a considerable amount of time.
Samuel, who was a student when they began dating, lost his parents during his time at the academy, and it was decided that he would inherit the Marquisate upon graduation.
In the Kingdom of Luarl, it was customary for nobles to get engaged upon graduating from the academy and marry between the ages of twenty and twenty-three.
Flare, having accepted Samuel’s proposal in the same manner, was meant to welcome her wedding day today, at twenty-two years old.
Or at least, she was supposed to.
“Where is Lord Samuel?”
Having departed the chapel alone in a carriage without holding the ceremony, Flare asked the head maid upon arriving at the entrance of the Walsh manor, where she was supposed to live starting today.
“The Master is currently at the Muller residence.”
“…I see.”
After a moment’s hesitation, Flare decided that simply sitting and waiting would do no good. She stepped right back into the carriage she had just dismounted.
“Take me to the Muller residence.”
When she instructed the coachman, he looked as though he wanted to say something. However, unable to voice his thoughts to Flare who was to become the Marchioness Walsh from this day forward he quietly set the carriage in motion.
The Muller residence belonged to Baron Muller, whose domain bordered the Walsh territory.
Even though it was a Baron’s domain, the land was quite small and lacked any notable specialties. Consequently, the domain suffered from poverty, and ever since the head of the house—the Baron—passed away, the Walsh family had been taking care of his widow and daughter.
This was because the Baroness had been Samuel’s wet nurse, and her daughter was his childhood friend.
And Flare had not known about the existence of those two until after she became engaged to Samuel.
(What should I even say to him?)
Flare pondered as she watched the scenery flow past her carriage window.
A groom ditching his own wedding. It was something normally unheard of.
Furthermore, Samuel had actually arrived at the church and changed into his wedding attire. That meant he genuinely intended to go through with the wedding with her.
Yet, there had been numerous occasions in the past where Samuel suddenly canceled important plans with Flare. Not just ordinary dates, but even the formal greeting visit for their engagement.
When Samuel asked to reschedule on the very day of that engagement meeting, her parents told her that she could break off the engagement if she wished. However, Flare couldn’t bring herself to make that choice.
Because whenever they were together, Samuel was always so tender, and Flare truly loved him.
(Yes… I loved him.)
Gazing at her with those beautiful emerald-green eyes, whispering sweet words. Always a gentleman, devoting his heart to making her happy, sending letters and gifts whenever they couldn’t meet.
A man who expressed his affection without holding back, through both words and actions, was rare to come by.
As long as she could endure his single flaw—those sudden, sudden changes of plans—he would make a wonderful partner.
Provided she could accept the reasons behind those changes, that is.
Immersed in such thoughts, the carriage carrying Flare smoothly arrived at the Muller residence.
Assisted by the coachman as she stepped down, Flare made her way inside the familiar estate.
Lacking financial means, the Muller household employed only a bare minimum of servants. Since they rarely received visitors, Flare knew from experience that no one would come to greet her at the entrance even if she waited.
The room she was looking for, one she had visited many times since becoming Samuel’s fiancée was located on the sunlit south side of the second floor.
When she knocked lightly on the door, a response came from within, and Flare pushed it open.
Inside the cozy room stood a single bed and a modest parlor set.
And seated in a chair right beside that bed was Samuel.
“Flare?!”
Startled by Flare’s sudden appearance, Samuel sprang to his feet.
At that exact moment, Flare saw a slender hand being released from his grip.