Chapter 62
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Having been humiliated by Sylaria, Grizelle stormed down the corridor with heavy, angry steps. Her neck flushed bright red as she marched out, eyes blazing.
‘That girl refused me? Sylaria, of all people!’
Breathing hard, Grizelle stopped abruptly. After glancing around to make sure no one was nearby, she stomped her feet in silent rage.
‘I should’ve at least asked to speak with her alone!’
It wasn’t just the rejection itself. It was the shame of being turned down in front of the head lady-in-waiting and the other ladies-in-waiting.
The moment she’d heard about the role of a family lady-in-waiting, she’d acted as though it were hers by right. She’d even bragged to the palace maids that all it would take was one word from her and Sylaria would immediately bring her in as her family lady-in-waiting.
But now she’d been flatly denied. How must she look in their eyes?
‘What’s wrong with her lately? Did she eat something bad?’
Still fuming, Grizelle glared back at where she’d just come from. That girl was no better than her, yet she’s now getting all high and mighty just because she’d become the First Prince’s fiancée? Unbelievable.
And she had the audacity to strut about as if she hadn’t just jumped ship to a different man and gotten engaged again. She didn’t even seem to understand just how scandalous that was.
When she truly entered high society, she wouldn’t even be able to show her face. She didn’t have any friends besides Grizelle herself.
‘Go back to the countryside? Alone?’
Grizelle jerked her head sharply. It was absurd enough that someone as unimpressive as Sylaria had been passed around between princes. But to tell her to return to Gideon the moment the engagement ceremony ended?
If she’d managed to clean up her status, shouldn’t she, at the very least, take care of her friend?
‘Wait… is she wary of me?’
Grizelle’s steps slowed. The more she thought about it, the more plausible it sounded. After all, she had already gotten to know the princes. She was no worse than Sylaria in any regard. No wonder the girl would be nervous.
During her few days in the imperial palace, Grizelle had gathered plenty of gossip. Among it was a rumor that the First Prince had been ensnared by the “rustic maiden’s” innocence.
But Grizelle was from the same backwater as Sylaria. When it came to innocence, she was no less convincing. Maybe Sylaria was afraid the princes’ interest would shift to her.
‘Of course. That explains it.’
Having arrived at this self-serving conclusion, Grizelle smirked with smug ease. Now it made sense why Sylaria was so desperate to send her scurrying back to Gideon before anything could happen.
‘Did you think that just because you won’t help me, I can’t seduce His Highness the Second Prince?’
Grizelle’s crimson eyes gleamed with ambition. Slowly, she took in the wide, opulent corridors of the imperial palace and let a sly smile curl across her lips. Then, turning decisively, she began to walk toward the Second Prince’s quarters.
* * *
“Ugh…”
Meanwhile, Arendtert was clutching his head and chugging down potions in gulps. He needed to get to the temple. But his condition had deteriorated so sharply he could no longer travel.
For now, he was force-feeding himself potion after potion, but the recovery was agonizingly slow. The healing effect seemed too scattered, drained away by the wound in his shoulder.
‘Maybe I should’ve left the physician alive.’
He bit the inside of his cheek in belated regret. The man who had treated his shoulder was now rotting nicely as fertilizer in his palace’s garden.
Arendtert debated whether to order Lionel to fetch someone else to become new ‘fertilizer’ while opening another vial.
Bitter liquid spilled down his jaw, and he wiped it away roughly with the back of his hand when—
“Your Highness, the First Prince’s fiancée has sent someone.”
“Sylaria did? Send them in at once.”
At the unexpected report, Arendtert straightened his clothes and glanced in the mirror. His face looked pale and drawn from the backlash of his divine power, but since the visitor was just an errand-bearer, he decided it would do.
‘Why would Sylaria send someone? Weren’t we supposed to pretend that night never happened?’
Tension pricked at him as he waited for the messenger to arrive. Soon, the grand doors opened and in stepped the one Sylaria had sent.
“I greet the Second Shield of Davoud.”
The moment he saw Grizelle curtseying with polished grace, Arendtert’s face stiffened. The First Prince’s Palace was crawling with ladies-in-waiting, and yet Sylaria had sent this one?
Irritation flared.
“Well? What’s your business?”
“First, Your Highness… please dismiss those nearby.”
At Grizelle’s request, Arendtert waved off the attendants he’d nearly forgotten were present. Once the two were alone, she began to approach him slowly.
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