“Isabel.”
Even to my own ears, my voice came out jarringly gentle. And looking at her, I had even put on a smile.
At that, Isabel's eyes rounded in surprise like a startled rabbit. She looked breathtaking, of course. I could say with certainty that no one in the entire kingdom surpassed her beauty. Hers was a loveliness so great that even the gods would envy it.
Yet that did not mean I felt a single shred of sympathy for her.
“I'm busy. I've heard what you had to say, so would you mind leaving?”
“I mean it. Negotiations start in a few days. You know that, right? I've been staying late almost every single night, and I'm exhausted.”
I really would prefer it if you left now.
I swallowed those final words, but my meaning was unmistakable.
Isabel nodded as she looked at me. But as she rose unsteadily from her seat, she gripped her own arm, gazed at me with tear-filled eyes, and spoke.
“Scarlett, we're still friends, right?”
“You're not angry with me?”
“Why would I be?”
My tone was sweet. So endlessly sweet and tender that I had composure to spare, offering a smile to Isabel as she nodded with visible relief. Leaving her behind, I strode briskly out of the reception room.
About half of the crowd that had been gathered close outside only a moment ago was gone. A few of the younger staff members looked at me with open admiration. In contrast, those who knew my temper well grimaced and shook their heads. One of the senior colleagues who had once trained me caught hold of his newly assigned junior secretary and said,
“Did you see that? That is how you master your emotions.”
Indeed. Even by my own standards, my self-restraint had been flawless.
Yet when Violetta returned later that afternoon, after Isabel had left, I finally exploded.
“Why, for heaven's sake?! Just leave me alone!”
I slammed my hands on the desk and shot to my feet. Violetta eyed me with distaste, furrowing her brow as she took me by the shoulders and forced me back down.
“I heard the budget for the negotiations was running low and came to check, so what is this nonsense? Do you not need the funds? Are you suddenly rolling in coin?”
Though she had stepped in with Isabel's name on her lips, Violetta changed the subject without hesitation to seat me. She was exceptionally perceptive, a trait I truly adored. Aside from her penchant for gossip, she was a wonderful friend and partner.
Naturally, I knew Violetta was only acting out of concern for me. Ever since Isabel had stolen my second boyfriend, she had urged me to keep my distance from her, yet I had never been able to bring myself to do it. For me to take out my anger on her now was frankly ridiculous.
“I'm sorry. I got a little carried away.”
My head felt as though it had been plunged into cold water. As the churning in my stomach settled, composure finally returned. Violetta, accepting my apology, gave a small chuckle and spoke.
“If you're sorry, buy me tiramisu.”
“Has the royal family grown so impoverished lately that they can't even feed their Princess tiramisu?”
“Not that kind. The one from your estate.”
“Stop it. My pastry chef whines about his arms aching every time you visit. You eat ten slices at a time.”
Violetta gave a haughty huff. My own appetite was nothing to scoff at, but even to me, Violetta's was astounding. Seeing the look on her face, I shook my head.
“I'll invite you over once I get back from Sorel.”
“My, how lovely of you, Scarlett. In light of your sincerity, I'll let your earlier disrespect of shouting at a princess slide.”
Violetta smiled playfully and sat on the desk. Celine, having brought in the tea, slipped out of the office with keen awareness. In the quiet left behind by her departure, Violetta took a sip, and the gears turning in her head were practically audible from where I sat.
She had undeniably come to discuss Isabel, but seeing how raw my temper was, she was undoubtedly searching for another topic. In the end, to spare her the trouble, I spoke first.
“I won't be friends with Isabel again.”
“Hm?”
“I intend to keep my distance. I'm neither strong enough to keep someone beside me who wounds me at every turn, nor am I stupid enough.”
Though having persisted in that stupidity for nearly ten years was bad enough. While cutting her out completely would be difficult given high society, I meant to avoid Isabel by any means necessary. It felt somewhat absurd that I, the victim, had to be the one dodging her, however.
“Still, rumors say you told her you were still friends… What was that about?”
“There was no reason to cause a scene by telling her we weren't. There were too many listening ears outside.”
It was partly an excuse, but partly the truth. If I made a declaration of ending our friendship, Isabel would only weep again, and I would be in an awkward position once more. Ridiculous as it was, that was the reality. I simply wished to avoid such a spectacle.
Violetta gave an understanding nod, but truth be told, a lingering unease remained lodged in the corner of my chest. A feeling that this was far from over, so to speak.
“By the way, Scarlett. Um… I'm just telling you this in case you didn't know…”
“You're heading to Sorel this time, which means you'll be meeting the Commander-in-Chief of this war, right?”
“Right.”
“Do you know who that is?” Violetta gave me an odd look, and suddenly it dawned on me what she was trying to say.
Khalid Prodiad.
“Ah… are you insane.”
I clutched my head. Was Isabel some kind of inescapable curse? I had to have owed her an astronomical debt in a past life. Furrowing my brow deeply, I repeated the name once more.
Khalid Prodiad.
He was Duke Prodiad, the Commander of the 1st Knight Order, the greatest contributor to this war, and simultaneously its Commander-in-Chief. And…
“Isabel's fiancé… wasn't he?”
Damn it all.
I knew all too well how deeply Isabel adored that fiancé of hers. That one-sided love and the engagement itself were entirely the fruit of Isabel's stubborn persistence. Back then, I had found it adorable and supported her, never imagining it would come back to bite me like this.
Isabel loved Duke Prodiad. That had also been the very reason I never suspected her whenever she stole my lovers. Why would she, when she had a fiancé she loved? It had to be my lover's fault. After all, she cared for her fiancé so much.
And at the same time, it was the clearest proof of her malice toward me. Stealing my lovers seven times over despite loving her fiancé was proof enough that she either hated me or saw me as nothing more than an amusement.
Had I not been so fond of her, things never would have escalated to this point. Who could have guessed that a single degree of goodwill would yield such monstrous results?
Before anything else, however, I barely managed to keep at bay the creeping headache brought on by the thought of meeting the very man Isabel loved so dearly.
Across from me, Violetta sighed as she sipped her tea.
“You must have committed an awful crime against that girl in a past life.”
I had to agree with that. Either that, or God held an immense grudge against me.
The consecutive nights of overtime had been so exhausting that they managed to wipe away the keywords rattling in my brain: Isabel, fiancé, lover, Khalid, Prodiad. Sleeping two hours a night and spending thirty minutes eating for two straight weeks makes everything in the world a bother.
By the final day, even Celine was snapping at me in irritation. While I fully sympathized with her distress, seeing her grumble at her direct superior was absurd enough that I shot her a long, flat glare.
Regardless, two weeks after breaking up with Elliot, and ten days after ending my friendship with Isabel in my own mind, the day of departure for Sorel arrived.
Woken by the bustling footsteps of ladies-in-waiting and maids since early morning, I was up at dawn brushing my hair, showering, putting on makeup, and reading documents all at once. My engrossed staring at the paperwork must have lacked grace, as the person sitting across from me observed me with a displeased look.
“Scarlett.”
“Put down what is in your hands.”
I set down the paper at the word of the Duchess, who preached that table manners were the hallmark of refinement. A little over a decade into middle age, the beautiful Duchess had lost none of the commanding grace from her days as a princess. Having looked up to Mother as a role model since childhood, I obeyed her with frightening diligence and respected her above all others.
The dining hall was so quiet that not even the clinking of silverware could be heard. Folding a forkful of green salad and placing it into her mouth, Mother set down her fork as if suddenly recalling something.
“A telegram arrived from Sierra yesterday.”
“Pardon? What was it regarding?”
“They asked that we forfeit the mines in exchange for them yielding Beliche.”
I wore a momentary look of disbelief at the remark, but my hand kept moving as I emptied the spoonful of soup into my mouth.
“‘Yielding’ Beliche? Does that make any sense at all?”
“Of course not. It is beyond laughable.”
The war had begun with Beliche as the objective in the first place. With Sierra defeated, Beliche naturally belonged to Winchester. Yet Sierra still insisted upon Beliche as their own to the bitter end, acting as though ceding it was an act of mercy. Finding it preposterous, I let out a low chuckle. It was unmistakable mockery.
“It seems Sierra has forgotten their place.”
“His Majesty was furious. He is the sort who would deliver a stern ultimatum even if it rekindled the flames of war. Naturally, I dissuaded him, but I cannot say I fail to understand his sentiment.”
“I understand.”
I understood what she meant.
Her words carried substantial weight, and I promptly offered a cooperative answer.
Put Sierra, who does not know their place, firmly beneath our heel so they never dare step out of line again.
Mother's intention was crystal clear, and chewing on that thought, I took another bite of salad.
