Chapter 7
“Sylaria! Syllie!”
Sylaria snapped to attention at the familiar voice calling her name. As she lifted her head, the noise and sights around her rushed in all at once, like an incoming tide.
‘What is this?’
Sylaria looked around in confusion.
People, lavishly dressed, filled the ballroom, and dazzling chandeliers lit up the hall.
Sylaria blinked rapidly in bewilderment. She had seen all of this before.
A sense of déjà vu washed over her.
‘What’s going on? I’m definitely…’
…supposed to be dead.
Sylaria, bewildered, clenched her hand. The cold, hard sensation of a glass wine goblet met her fingertips.
Come to think of it, when had she received the wine glass? As she stared at the deep red liquid with confused eyes—
“Syllie, what’s wrong?”
Crimson hair fluttered into view beside her. Arendtert, wearing a dress uniform adorned with gold epaulettes, was looking at her warmly.
“……!”
For a moment, Sylaria almost screamed, but barely managed to hold it in. The wine glass shook, the liquid inside sloshing, but thankfully she didn’t spill any.
Having narrowly avoided drawing attention, Sylaria’s brows furrowed.
“W-Why are you here…?”
“What do you mean, why? What kind of question is that?”
Arendtert burst out laughing, as if he found it ridiculous. That clear, boyish laughter—like glass beads rolling—had once been a part of him she liked.
Now, it was only irritating and revolting.
“Why don’t you answer me first?”
“Ahahaha, …huh?”
Arendtert tilted his head in confusion at her sharp tone, but, without asking any further questions, answered obediently.
“Why else would I be here? Today is our engagement ceremony. Are you nervous? There’s nothing to worry about.”
Engagement ceremony.
Sylaria hastily set the wine glass down on the table and looked around again.
No wonder it felt so familiar.
It was the very ballroom where her engagement to Arendtert had been announced.
‘Was it all a dream?’
Sylaria bit down hard on her lower lip. The vivid aftertaste of her memories still clung to her.
Sylaria unconsciously rubbed the spot on her stomach where Arendtert had stabbed her.
The metallic taste of blood lingering in her mouth, the shuddering betrayal that had pierced her whole body—such sensations couldn’t have just been a dream.
‘But, just in case…’
Half in doubt, Sylaria glanced at Arendtert. He was still beside her, unaware of anything amiss.
Before acting rashly, Sylaria decided she had to test things out first.
If it really was just a dream she’d mistaken for the past and tried to take revenge, an innocent person could get hurt.
She knew exactly what was going to happen next. If this was a dream, not everything would match up.
‘It’s not time to dance yet. Her Majesty the Empress hasn’t arrived, either. That means, about now, Grizelle should appear…’
Grizelle would attend the engagement ball as Sylaria’s childhood friend. She would soon ask to be brought in as Sylaria’s personal lady-in-waiting.
Sylaria remembered every detail of what happened during that process.
First, Grizelle would appear, beaming a bright smile.
And then—
“Syllie! Here you are. My friend, congratulations on your engagement!”
“…Thank you.”
Just as in her memory, Grizelle said the words and hugged her. Sylaria accepted the embrace awkwardly, then pulled away.
“This is the imperial palace, Grizelle. You should observe imperial etiquette.”
“Ah, r-right. I wasn’t thinking. Sorry.”
Sylaria studied Grizelle coldly. As expected, Grizelle was wearing a pure white dress.
Only the bride-to-be, the star of the engagement, was supposed to wear white. And yet, Grizelle had shamelessly arrived in a dazzling white dress.
The reason was obvious.
“I had to borrow something from the dressmaker at the last minute, and this was the only thing in my size. It’s okay, right?”
“……”
“You’re not mad, are you? Syllie, you’re not that narrow-minded.”
Discussion
1 CommentReactions
Ellecde