Chapter 74
Cressida’s cold words drew silent tears from Grizelle. These were not the noisy, manipulative sobs she had let loose earlier but raw, wrenching tears born from the heart.
Yet no one pitied her as she wept. Cressida pressed a hand to her brow and asked with icy calm,
“Choose. Leave, or stay.”
“…I will stay.”
“Tch.”
At Grizelle’s small, crawling reply, Cressida clicked her tongue. Having just finished cleaning up her son’s disgrace, she exhaled long, weary sighs.
“Euclid has won great merit, and my son manages only to create scandal. Where is this all headed?”
“Merit? What did Euclid do so quickly?”
“What did he do, you ask?”
At Arendtert’s question, Cressida’s sharp gaze cut across to him. She clenched her teeth and fists so tightly her whole body trembled with the effort of not seizing him by the collar.
“Do you truly not know? Of course, how could you know? You’ve been shut away here, too busy with your whoring!”
At her furious accusation, Arendtert dropped his gaze. Cressida’s face twisted with rage.
“While you dallied, claiming some absurd sickbed excuse, the First Prince went out and gained victory. You will depart for your campaign tomorrow!”
“Tomorrow? That’s too rushed— No, I will go.”
Arendtert started to complain but flinched at the killing intent radiating from his mother and hastily corrected himself. She shook her head slowly at her foolish son.
“Go, and at least drag back a few monster carcasses. You’ll need something to show if you wish to raise your head in this palace again.”
With that, Cressida signaled to Aria, who in turn gestured to the surrounding maids. They moved forward and roughly hauled Grizelle to her feet.
“She bears the name of a prince’s woman now. We cannot leave her in this disgraceful state. Dress her so at least she does not shame us.”
Cressida gave her final command and turned away, looking drained. Dragged half along, half stumbling, Grizelle was taken from the room by Aria and the maids. Tears streaked down her cheeks as she faced a future utterly unlike the one she had dreamed.
* * *
After Arendtert departed for the Lekan Forest, Grizelle was tended by the Empress’s maids and dressed anew.
The shock of having become a prince’s mistress had numbed her heart, but it began to loosen in the warmth of a bath scented with rose oil.
A hot bath, something rare in Gideon. All she had to do was sit still among the fresh, fragrant petals while the maids’ practiced hands scrubbed and washed her body.
Even after the bath, their service continued. They ignored her attempts at conversation, but their skillful, thorough attendance was undeniable.
Ironically, their cold professionalism fed her hungry vanity. Knowing that these refined capital-born noblewomen had been ordered to wait on her, even if reluctantly, sent a thrill through her.
When the grooming was done and she was dressed in garments fit for a royal woman, Grizelle stared into the mirror and her eyes gleamed.
‘Yes. Whatever else, I am part of the imperial family now, aren’t I? Think of it that way. Temporary or not, a prince’s consort is still a consort.’
Bolstered by her own reasoning, Grizelle allowed herself to be led to the side chamber prepared next to Arendtert’s rooms. It was called a side chamber only because it was in the palace, but to her standards, it was spacious and lavish.
Throwing herself onto the bed, she even began to hum.
‘I was accepted by Her Majesty herself. Compared to an ordinary fiancée like Syllie, I am far superior, am I not?’
That thought made her spring up with a shiver of excitement. To realize she now stood above Sylaria made her body itch with glee. She wanted to go to her right away and brag.
How would Sylaria react upon hearing Grizelle had become a prince’s consort? She would be shocked, surely. Then she would kneel before her—that was imperial etiquette after all.
Lost in the pleasing fantasy, Grizelle hummed a cheerful tune as she slipped out of the Second Prince’s palace. She went alone, without even a single maid, her steps light as air.
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