Three days later.
An invitation arrived in the master bedroom of Egbert’s mansion.
Egbert, freshly awake, took the envelope directly from the head butler.
When he read what it was, his face twisted with rage.
He crumpled the paper in his fist.
“Has she lost her mind?!”
A string of curses exploded from his mouth.
He rolled off the bed and yanked on a pair of pants lying on the floor.
“What’s going on, Egbert?”
Sophia mumbled sleepily beside him.
She felt the sudden cold space next to her after Egbert jumped out of bed.
Without answering, Egbert threw the crumpled invitation aside and stormed out of the bedroom.
His unbuttoned shirt flapped behind him.
He left behind socks and shoes scattered across the floor.
The head butler quietly picked up the shoes and followed after him.
Still groggy, Sophia rubbed her eyes and picked up the thing Egbert had thrown.
“What’s got him so worked up? You’d think the house caught fire.”
Yawn.
She let out a long yawn.
Then she unfolded the crumpled item—and froze.
“…A wedding invitation?”
Sophia blinked slowly.
She hadn’t been reading for long—maybe she misunderstood the letters?
Or maybe she was still too sleepy to think straight.
She squeezed her eyes shut and opened them again, checking the invitation more carefully.
“The bride is…?”
She checked it more than five times before finally bursting into a laugh.
“She really is something else.”
Sophia muttered under her breath.
This was the woman who had quietly endured three years beside Egbert—
only to walk away with Graham Bank in her hands.
Sophia actually admired Anais’s patience more than anyone.
To have survived both her and Egbert.
Chuckling to herself, Sophia got out of bed.
Sending out a wedding invitation on the day of the ceremony—
That level of confidence was one thing.
But the groom?
The Duke of Constantine.
As she slipped on a robe, Sophia paused while thinking about what to wear to the wedding.
Her gaze drifted toward the closed door.
Why is Egbert so furious?
Was it because Graham Bank might now end up in the hands of House Constantine?
Or was it because Anais was marrying Duke Constantine, the man he despised?
Or… maybe…
“No way…”
Was he really angry because Anais is marrying another man?
Sophia pressed her lips shut, not laughing anymore.
No way.
Egbert had always felt a deep sense of inferiority toward Anais, who had been chosen by the former Marquis of Graham.
That inferiority turned into hatred.
He completely deceived Anais using his twisted feelings, married her under false pretenses, and after the wedding, pushed her into a pit of despair.
“There’s no way he cares now.”
Sophia shook her head.
Absolutely not.
Egbert would never turn his head toward that cold, stone-hearted woman.
Still, Sophia tried to push down her unease.
It looked like she needed to hurry and marry Egbert—soon.
And she would definitely attend the wedding with Egbert today, just to confirm it with her own eyes.
To see for herself that:
Anais no longer loves Egbert.
Sophia clenched her fists tightly.
For a similar reason, someone else had been thrown into a personal hell from early that morning.
Gwendolyn stood frozen, her face pale, trembling all over.
Something unbelievable had just happened.
“No way. There’s no way this is real.”
She muttered in a shaking voice.
“There’s no way Baldwin would make a decision like this!
Who’s pulling this prank? Evan? Stain?
This is a joke, right? They’re messing with me!”
She snapped at her maid.
It was the first time Gwendolyn—usually so composed and rational—had ever shown such emotion.
Startled, the maid quickly shook her head.
Gwendolyn glared furiously at the envelope.
But the seal on it was Baldwin’s.
And no one—not a single person—could fake the Duke’s official seal.
Her shaky hand brushed over her face.
It had been an especially good morning.
Maybe it was because she’d finally bought the jewel she had wanted yesterday.
She’d even gotten out of bed feeling light and cheerful.
But now, Gwendolyn was in hell.
“…Baldwin must’ve been tricked.”
She growled, her voice brimming with fury.
“Yes, I have to save him.”
A fire lit up in her blue eyes.
“Just like always. That’s right, Gwendolyn.
There’s no one for Baldwin but you.”
She placed a hand over her heart, as if to calm herself.
Baldwin lost his voice when he was around ten years old.
He’d been struck by a high fever, and the doctors had all said he wouldn’t survive.
That there was no hope of recovery.
Baldwin survived—miraculously.
But he lost many things in the process.
Things that were crucial for him to reign as Duke of Constantine in Estus.
“Only I… only I can help him.”
Gwendolyn trembled, her whole body shaking.
“Only I can save Baldwin.”
She had worked so hard, all this time.
She stayed close to him, pretending to be just a friend.
She was comforted by the thought that she was the only woman by his side.
She believed that while she prepared for the future, Baldwin would wait for her.
But now, some wretched woman had swooped in and taken him.
“Aaaaargh!”
Gwendolyn screamed, ripping the wedding invitation to shreds.
She leaned on her vanity table, breathing heavily.
In the mirror, her reflection stared back.
Her dark brown hair and striking green eyes made her one of the most admired beauties in society.
Men were desperate to even brush against her hand.
Sure, that woman was pretty too.
But between her and Anais, it was like heaven and earth.
Gwendolyn saw herself as sacred and untouchable—
while Anais was something low, something that anyone could trample over.
“She must’ve seduced him with her body and money.”
Gwendolyn ground her teeth.
“I’ll put her in her place.”
She’d make sure Anais stepped away on her own.
A woman like that would never be accepted by Madam Rosemarlin anyway.
And Gwendolyn was sure that Rosemarlin would support her.
She was determined to take back what was stolen—
from that filthy woman.
“That little nobody…”
Soon enough, Anais would come crawling back, begging to escape,
regretting her greed.
Gwendolyn had no doubt.
This was her domain—high society,
and she had never lost a battle in this war.
Our wedding began at noon.
I didn’t know a wedding could happen so quickly.
Once Baldwin made his decision, everything fell into place like clockwork.
Those three days were filled with constant decisions.
All I had to do was choose from the options Baldwin provided.
It felt as if he had been waiting to marry me all along.
Of course, I knew that wasn’t true.
Maybe he simply wanted to see if I could measure up—
If I was truly fit to be his partner.
Was I careful with my choices?
Did I meet his expectations?
The late-spring sunlight gently brushed along my neck.
His violet eyes, glowing in the golden light, had a certain chill to them.
It made me tense up.
We had signed countless documents,
gone through endless procedures,
and now we stood here.
There was no turning back.
At last, we stood facing each other
in front of the church where the wedding would take place.
It had been an overwhelmingly fast race.
And yet, everything was perfect.
Everything was in place—yet, paradoxically, there was still a strange sense of emptiness.
“Shouldn’t we wait until Madam Rosemarlin arrives?
I do have that much time to spare.”
[Are you inviting your parents as well?]
“…No. I don’t want to.
Some families in this world aren’t meant to share in your joy.”
[I feel the same.]
Only then did I realize—
Baldwin hadn’t told the Duchess (Rosemarlin) about our marriage.
And he had no plans to, either.
Our marriage was strangely twisted from the beginning.
We filed the marriage registration before the wedding—
a very unusual kind of wedding.
Neither of our families attended,
and yet the ceremony was packed.
Even though the invitations had only been sent out this morning,
the venue was overflowing with people.
What they all had in common were their shocked expressions.
I squeezed Baldwin’s hand tightly.
We climbed the church steps, hand in hand.
It felt both short and long at the same time.
This wedding was meant to be seen.
Rather than informing people one by one, we chose the faster route—
make them witness it.
Baldwin wasn’t just any noble.
He was a Duke.
Which meant he had royal blood in his ancestry.
If the entire royal family were ever wiped out,
he would be responsible for protecting the empire.
That’s why Baldwin was wearing his formal uniform today.
It gave him a different kind of authority—
more solemn, more powerful.
He looked like a mountain no one could climb.
And while I held his hand,
I felt like nothing could harm me—like I was completely safe.
Then came the slow chimes of noon—
twelve bells ringing, one after another.
