Previously
Aracella purges the Vandermeer mansion of the Duchess's spies and installs Emma as the new Head Maid with her mother's help. Damian interrogates the traitors, confirming the Duchess's plot to force a divorce, and realizes Aracella is the perfect partner to help him secure his grandfather's hidden will.
They planned to have dinner together at a restaurant overlooking the lake, followed by a boat ride to enjoy the water.
Afterward, they would meet friends at a social club and exchange pleasantries before returning home.
It was an impeccable plan; every single moment was an opportunity to put their wonderful relationship on display, the setting tailored to play the part of a loving couple.
Aracella styled her hair in a half-up braid, adorning it with a floral pearl hair ribbon.
Her light violet tresses evoked a field of spring blossoms in full bloom.
Meanwhile, her square-neck chiffon dress lent her an air of refreshing elegance.
Just as she finished dressing, she stepped downstairs to find Damian standing waiting in polished, formal attire.
He was the very picture of an attentive husband awaiting his wife, utterly prepared for their outing.
At the sound of his name, he lifted his sculpted, statue-like face, his thick brows rising faintly.
The sunlight slanting through the staircase window caught Aracella, bathing her in a halo of light.
Damian, who had been regarding her in silence, paid the compliment with a picturesque smile.
It came just as Aracella drew to a stop right before him.
Aracella blinked gently as she stood before him, burying her sharp critiques of his talent for lying through his teeth deep in her chest.
The new servants from Marquis Hugo’s Mansion looked on with starry eyes, as if the leads of a romance novel had materialized before them.
To them, Aracella was a cheerful, beloved lady, and seeing her now as a poised noblewoman of high standing moved them deeply.
News of the Vandermeer couple’s apparent harmony would surely spread through these very servants, so neither of them minded having a few spectators.
After all, every step outside would only draw more eyes.
Aracella reined in her temper by silently telling herself to bear with it, offering a sweet smile instead.
She then walked out of the house with Damian, holding her handbag in her right hand and her parasol in her left.
She deliberately refrained from taking his arm so things would not feel awkward, knowing her husband disliked physical contact.
The same held true when they arrived at the restaurant.
The manager guided them to the finest window-side table, where the strains of a piano drifted over in a pleasant hush.
Damian pulled out her chair with courteous grace, and Aracella took her seat with an artificial smile.
To the nearby patrons, the gesture seemed entirely romantic.
Yet the moment the manager stepped away, the tone between them shifted completely.
Despite the sharp words, a casual observer would have thought the two were simply laughing together, trading playful quips like newlyweds.
Of course, their striking features—resembling lovers straight out of a famous painting—went a long way toward sealing that impression.
Aracella was about to finish her sentence behind a sweet smile when she cut herself off.
An uninvited guest had appeared at the couple’s table.
Frederick approached, wearing an affable smile.
It was their first time seeing each other since the wedding.
When Damian began to offer a formal greeting, Frederick waved it off and casually slid into a seat beside them.
The motion was so seamless that Aracella forgot to ask why he was sitting down in the first place.
Frederick clapped his shoulder with surprising force, and Damian held his silence, merely nodding.
His tone held a faint edge of ambiguity, and the smile that rounded off his words was difficult to read.
Even so, Damian nodded once more, likely because the Crown Prince was his wife’s dear friend.
Frederick turned toward Aracella and rested his chin in his hand.
All Damian could see now was the back of his head and shoulders.
Frederick’s face, smiling with his palm pressed to his lips, looked radiant with genuine delight, as if the mere recollection brought him joy.
The conversation that followed remained steeped in their shared memories.
For Damian, it was ground he could not intrude upon, so he leaned back slightly and kept quiet, watching Frederick and Aracella in silence.
Hearing of their relationship from his wife, he had assumed they were merely good friends, but seeing them together now suggested something far deeper.
‘This doesn’t look good…’
A third party intruding on a married couple—especially the Crown Prince—would inevitably draw curious stares, only muddying the waters.
If this continued, with the wife absorbed in conversation with another man while leaving her husband aside, unsavory gossip would surely trail in their wake.
Fortunately, Aracella was far from obtuse. Noticing that Damian had remained quiet for quite some time, she promptly steered the conversation.
At his remark, Aracella froze for a moment, and Frederick offered a pointed smile.
To wrest back the flow of conversation from the Crown Prince, Damian had deliberately chosen those words.
At this moment, presenting themselves as a married couple was paramount, not showcasing the bond between the Crown Prince and Aracella.
Aracella let out a genuine laugh, her eyes sparkling with amusement.
Her brazen retort pulled a laugh from him as well, and Damian broke into an unfeigned smile.
In an instant, the one left out in the cold had become Frederick.
The smile vanished from the corners of his mouth just as the dishes they had ordered began to arrive. The timing was impeccable.
Aracella asked upon seeing that Frederick had no intention of leaving.
This was not an ordinary meal; it was an occasion meant to showcase their married life, and an acquaintance lingering at their table was quite unexpected.
It was hardly comfortable.
Frederick offered an amiable smile, then turned his gaze toward Damian.
Though the smile remained unchanged, the look in his eyes was entirely different.
Despite the terse reply, Frederick’s brow twitched faintly, though his pleasant expression never wavered.
In the end, his order was brought over to the couple’s table as well.
While the couple had ordered steak, Frederick had opted for seafood.
Frederick scooped up a grilled shrimp glazed with sauce and transferred it onto Aracella’s plate.
He then added, glancing over at Damian.
Damian reached for his napkin, dabbing at his lips while deliberately withholding an answer.
What was the meaning of a man acting as though he knew a woman best right in front of her husband?
It was an unmistakable provocation. No ordinary friend would ever go this far.
‘There can’t be something more between them, could there?’
Beneath the table, his hand clenched tight, then slowly opened.
The prenuptial agreement naturally included a clause prohibiting infidelity.
Yet if the other party was the Crown Prince himself, raising an objection would be no simple matter.
As Damian contemplated the worst-case scenario, his face darkened into a scowl.
Aracella spoke up calmly.
Her blunt remark instantly shattered the mounting tension.
Both Frederick and Damian froze in their tracks.
Unfazed, Aracella pressed on with utter earnestness.
With that, she lifted the shrimp from her plate and deposited it right back onto Frederick’s.
It was a slight pity, but there was no helping it.
She then tasted the sauce clinging to the tines of her fork.
Mmm… Should she ask for seconds later?
A flustered Frederick waved his hands, scrambling to explain.
Aracella set her fork down, her expression turning dead serious.
Her sudden rebuke struck him like a blow; his heart lurched, and his bright red eyes wavered.
“Why—why have I disappointed you…?”
That was precisely why Aracella always ate meat whenever she worked late into the night.
The stamina to pull an all-nighter, after all, came from being properly fed.
Looking back and forth between the tongue-tied Crown Prince and his thoroughly serious wife, Damian could no longer hold it in and burst into laughter.
He buried his face in his hand, his shoulders trembling faintly.
It was impossible to keep a straight face before Aracella, who had just made the Crown Prince look utterly foolish.
Truly, she was a woman who brought trouble in her wake, closely followed by laughter.