“So, what happened with the wedding?”
Perhaps Samuel felt a lingering sense of guilt after all.
His expression was distinctly awkward, and he seemed to be tiptoeing around Flare’s mood, carefully reading her face.
“The guests were asked to return home under the pretense that you were feeling unwell, Lord Samuel. Naturally, I ensured they were sent off with parting gifts.”
If they had been sent away empty-handed, there was no telling what kind of rumors would begin to spread.
The Rickbelt family owned a renowned merchant guild. By subtly reminding everyone who controlled the country’s trade routes, the guests would understand that spreading reckless rumors meant they might find goods no longer making their way into their own households.
(Though, I suppose it’s impossible to completely silence every tongue.)
“I see.”
Samuel offered only a single, terse response to Flare’s explanation.
(You skipped our wedding, and that’s all you have to say?)
Up until now, Flare had always forgiven him, no matter how abrupt his sudden changes of plans were.
Or rather, it wasn’t so much forgiveness as it was resignation. Time and time again, she had been forced to learn that nothing she said could ever change Samuel’s actions.
And yet, even Flare had never imagined she would be treated this way on her wedding day.
“Is that really all?”
“Huh?”
“I asked if that is all you have to say to me.”
“What are you trying to say?”
Perhaps because Flare, who normally never uttered a single complaint was speaking in such an accusing tone, a deep frown creased Samuel’s brow.
Even so, this was one time Flare could not simply swallow her words and forgive him.
“You knew how important today was, didn’t you?”
“…Of course, I did.”
“So many people rearranged their schedules to attend!”
“I understand that as well.”
(If you really understood, a normal person wouldn’t just vanish right before their own wedding!)
Flare desperately wanted to hurl those words right at him.
Yet just as she was about to open her mouth, the other person in the room spoke up.
“I’m so sorry! It’s all my fault, isn’t it?”
The speaker tried to push herself up as she spoke.
“Lillian, don’t push yourself!”
Samuel immediately moved to support her back, gently placing a cushion between her and the headboard. Flare watched the intimate display unfolding right before her eyes with a quiet, unblinking gaze.
“It’s because of my frail body… that’s why…”
“What are you saying? Being sickly isn’t your fault, Lillian.”
“…But because I collapsed, I’ve brought so much trouble upon everyone. To someone as healthy as Lady Flare, I’m sure the suffering of a weak, frail body is impossible to understand.”
While offering a seemingly apologetic gesture to Flare, her subsequent words subtly undermined her.
Samuel didn’t seem to notice, but Flare saw right through it immediately.
Lillian Muller was always asserting herself, constantly trying to prove to Flare that she was the one Samuel cherished most.
Whenever Lillian called, Samuel would come running, no matter what.
Even on a day as crucial as today.
Granted, she didn’t call for Samuel without reason.
Lillian had been terribly weak and delicate since childhood; it was said that without meticulous care, even her life could be in danger.
(But is that really true?)
The reason Flare couldn’t help but doubt it was because Samuel had been summoned away so many times before. Almost as if those calls were timed precisely for when he was spending time with Flare.
And Samuel never, ever refused Lillian’s wishes.
It felt as though Lillian knew this all too well, deliberately summoning him just to flaunt it in front of Flare.
In truth, not once had her health ever suffered a genuinely life-threatening turn.
(Even if someone is sickly in childhood, it’s common for their health to improve as they grow older.)
Granted, as Lillian said, Flare truly could not comprehend the suffering of being sickly.
Even so, that didn’t mean every selfish whim should be indulged, did it?
Especially now—Samuel and Flare were getting married.
If Lillian continued to be placed above everything else, it would become unbearable.
(If we marry and have children… will Lord Samuel value me and our children over Lady Lillian?)
No matter how hard she tried, Flare simply could not picture such a scene.
“Flare, are you seriously blaming Lillian for not feeling well? You know she didn’t choose to be born with a weak body, don’t you?”
Even though Flare hadn’t said a word, Samuel immediately turned on her, casting blame.
“She had a painful seizure today! She was in so much agony that I was beside myself with fear, terrified she might lose her life.”
“Doesn’t she have a personal physician on call at all times?”
“A doctor can prescribe medication, but he cannot erase her fear! Can’t you show even a shred of empathy for that?”
Flare bit her lip tightly at Samuel’s words.
“Where is Camilla? What was she doing?”
Flare brought up the name of the woman who should have been at Lillian’s side—her mother.
“Camilla went into town to buy nutritious ingredients for Lillian.”
(Confronted with an emergency, shouldn’t her mother, Camilla, be the one nursing her?)
Looking at Samuel, who answered so matter-of-factly, Flare desperately wanted to voice those words. Yet, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t bring herself to utter them.
She knew that whatever she said, it would never be taken in good faith anyway.
Or worse, Lillian would skillfully play the tragic heroine once more, framing Flare’s words as cruel and heartless.