Marian had spent years preparing for Adrian to fall in love with Elena Hart.
The problem was that she had eventually convinced herself it would never happen.
Which, in hindsight, might have been a mistake.
Not because anything had happened.
Nothing had happened.
Absolutely nothing.
That was the irritating part.
The afternoon had been reserved.
Specifically reserved.
Marian knew this because she had reserved it herself.
Three weeks ago.
A remarkable display of planning.
One she remained proud of.
The Crown Prince’s schedule was notoriously difficult.
Which meant securing an afternoon alone with Adrian required strategy.
Persistence.
And occasionally threats.
Reasonable threats.
Today had finally arrived.
The weather was beautiful.
Tea had been prepared.
The palace gardens were in bloom.
Everything was perfect.
For once.
Naturally, disaster followed.
"You’re leaving."
Adrian looked up from the report in his hands.
"Only briefly."
Marian stared.
The answer immediately annoyed her.
Because it sounded familiar.
Dangerously familiar.
Briefly usually meant hours.
Sometimes days.
Occasionally entire diplomatic summits.
"How brief?"
Adrian hesitated.
A terrible sign.
An absolutely terrible sign.
Marian narrowed her eyes.
"Adrian."
"An hour."
"A lie."
"Perhaps two."
"Another lie."
The Crown Prince sighed.
Which meant she was correct.
As expected.
"What happened?"
The question came out calmer than she felt.
Because she wasn’t upset.
Not yet.
Merely irritated.
The report shifted slightly in Adrian’s hands.
And for the first time, Marian noticed the seal.
The Health Commission.
A strange feeling settled inside her stomach.
Small.
Unwelcome.
"Miss Hart submitted a proposal."
There it was.
The name.
Again.
Marian blinked.
Once.
Twice.
"Oh."
The answer sounded perfectly normal.
At least she hoped it did.
"There’s an issue involving medicine distribution in the western provinces."
Adrian continued speaking.
Explaining.
Reasoning.
Justifying.
Every explanation sounded perfectly reasonable.
Which somehow made it worse.
"Can’t someone else review it?"
The question escaped before she could stop it.
Adrian paused.
Only briefly.
Yet long enough for Marian to notice.
"Perhaps."
The answer should have reassured her.
Instead, it did the opposite.
Because Adrian didn’t say yes.
He said perhaps.
"Then let someone else do it."
Silence.
A tiny silence.
A moment so small most people would never notice it.
Marian noticed.
Adrian looked down at the report.
Then away.
Then back again.
And suddenly Marian understood.
Not everything.
Not even close.
Just one thing.
He didn’t want someone else to do it.
The realization struck harder than it should have.
Because she still didn’t know why.
For a moment, neither spoke.
The garden felt strangely quiet.
The tea between them remained untouched.
A warm breeze drifted through the roses.
Everything looked exactly the same.
Yet something felt different.
Marian hated that feeling.
Especially because she couldn’t explain it.
Finally Adrian stood.
"I’ll return as soon as possible."
The words sounded sincere.
Because they were.
That was the worst part.
Marian knew Adrian.
Knew him better than anyone.
He genuinely intended to return quickly.
He genuinely felt sorry.
He genuinely believed this was necessary.
None of those things helped.
"Of course."
Marian smiled.
Effortlessly.
Years of noble training finally proving useful.
"Go save the Empire."
A hint of amusement flickered across Adrian’s face.
Normally she would have felt pleased.
Today she didn’t.
"Marian."
"I’m fine."
The answer arrived too quickly.
Adrian noticed.
Of course he did.
Unfortunately.
"You’re upset."
"I’m disappointed."
A pause.
Then:
"Which is different."
The distinction mattered.
At least to her.
Adrian looked troubled.
Good.
Not because she wanted him unhappy.
Because she wanted him to understand.
The difference mattered.
A great deal.
"I’ll make it up to you."
The promise came immediately.
Automatically.
Without hesitation.
As though that solved everything.
Marian almost laughed.
Not because it was funny.
Because it wasn’t.
The problem wasn’t the missed afternoon.
The problem was that she suddenly wasn’t sure whether Adrian understood why she was hurt.
And that realization terrified her.
Just a little.
Eventually he left.
The garden grew quiet again.
The seat across from her sat empty.
Marian stared at it.
Then immediately felt ridiculous.
Honestly.
He was working.
That was all.
Nothing more.
Nothing less.
No betrayal.
No romance.
No scandal.
No secret meetings beneath moonlight.
A proposal.
A report.
Work.
Reasonable.
Responsible.
Necessary.
Exactly the sort of thing the future Emperor should prioritize.
Then why did it hurt?
The question arrived unexpectedly.
And refused to leave.
Marian leaned back in her chair.
Looking up at the sky.
Blue.
Clear.
Beautiful.
A perfect day.
Or at least it had been.
A bitter laugh escaped her.
Soft.
Brief.
Almost embarrassed.
Because she knew exactly what she was thinking.
The thought was childish.
Petty.
Unfair.
And yet it existed anyway.
If it had been anyone else, I wouldn’t have cared.
The realization settled heavily inside her chest.
Not because she disliked Elena.
She didn’t.
Not because she distrusted Adrian.
She didn’t.
But because it was Elena.
Always Elena.
Recently, somehow, it was always Elena.
The thought frightened her.
Because for the first time in months—
Marian found herself wondering whether the original novel had been right after all.
And for the first time since arriving in this world—
She wished she had never remembered its plot.
Far across the palace grounds, Adrian walked toward a meeting he believed was important.
Toward a discussion he believed was necessary.
Toward a choice that seemed entirely reasonable.
He never noticed the exact moment he left Marian behind.
And that, more than anything else, was the beginning.
This Chapter gives Marian her first genuine wound.
Not heartbreak yet.
Just that awful feeling of realizing:
"You chose something else over me."
And because Adrian’s reasons are perfectly reasonable, she can’t even tell herself he’s wrong—which makes it much more painful.