Previously
In the orangery, Dolores discreetly tips off Resurreccion about eastern territories to target for his plans, and he surprises her by presenting a bridal bouquet of rare Brillant Roses.
“Angelica.”
Pierced right where it hurt most, Dolores raised her voice as well.
Even so, Angelica glared at her with tear-rimmed eyes as though she wished to murder her on the spot.
That beauty, that birthright, that condescending generosity she doled out to her cousin—
‘I despise how she acts like she’s the sweetest creature in the world!’
And now she even feigned wisdom, making her all the more loathsome.
Angelica spewed her murky, filthy thoughts.
“Must be nice, Sister. Born with everything everyone else desires, living life without a single care in the world.”
“Ha…”
“Do you have any idea what the seat of Crown Princess means, what it takes for someone like…”
The corners of her gritted mouth trembled violently.
The venom she had barely kept concealed from Dolores looked ready to burst forth.
Yet Angelica, too, was a noble lady.
She managed to smooth over her contorted expression with an effort, then turned around with a venomous smile.
“You will regret everything you said today. The Grand Duke will regret his choice as well!”
Dolores let out a dry smirk at the sight of Angelica storming off like a tempest.
“Him, regret? Ha…”
Once it came to light that Dolores was a defective article, any man would naturally regret it.
Even if the Grand Duke were sterile, a man was still a man.
When it was revealed once again that she was barren, he would surely mock her with everything he had.
‘Not that it matters.’
She had already resolved never to love anyone in this lifetime.
Dolores looked out the window.
Beyond the garden walls, everything seemed peaceful.
Yet whenever the wind blew, the bushes stirred with a faint, unnatural rustle.
“He said he planted people out there, didn’t he?”
Resurreccion had called it a ‘minimal precaution.’
He could not bring her to Lancaster Manor before the wedding, but just in case.
He had also taught her a signal to send them.
Dolores took out the curious silver lighter the Grand Duke had given her.
‘Will this do?’
Click, click.
Two sparks meant ‘all is well.’
Three meant ‘danger.’
Thankfully, a few seconds later, two tiny flames answered from the thicket.
Over the past several days, Adrian paced the imperial palace in an agony of restlessness.
How could a life unravel so abruptly?
‘What in the world has gotten into Dolores?’
The woman who had quietly and prettily kept to his side had transformed overnight.
“So I indulged in a bit of fun—was there any need to be so petty…?”
Adrian muttered to himself, his chest burning with frustration.
Fine. Perhaps dallying with her cousin had bruised Dolores’s pride.
Still, he would have been faithful once they were wed; shouldn’t she have looked the other way?
She was going to be the Empress, after all. She could have turned a blind eye to a minor diversion.
“Of all people, that mongrel…!”
Adrian spat out his fury at the thought of his half-brother.
He hated that someone who wasn't even pure imperial blood had amassed such military glory, and he hated even more the bizarre favor his imperial father had long shown him.
‘What? A man like that is more manly?’
The more he chewed over Dolores’s words, the hotter the humiliation surged.
‘It seems I am inclined toward men with a more feral charm.’
‘That I am drawn to larger men.’
Undeniably, Resurreccion was taller and far more muscular than Adrian.
To think that Dolores would be bound to such a brother…
“Damn it…!”
Just as he was seething with an inferiority complex, Marquis Rochester came to see him.
“Marquis. Did your audience with Imperial Father go well?”
“Sigh, Your Highness…”
“You failed as well, then?”
Even the stubborn Marquis was utterly exhausted.
To have the daughter he raised to be Empress reduced to a mere Grand Duchess.
He had spent hours pleading with and persuading the Emperor.
Yet, almost unnaturally, the Emperor remained entirely unmoved.
“He merely told me to understand, saying Dolores is the first woman the Grand Duke has ever shown an interest in.”
“Ha! Preposterous…!”
“Sigh, what are we to do?”
The two men sank into troubled silence.
How were they to defy an imperial decree? Adrian gnawed on his lip before speaking slowly.
“…Can’t we simply hold the wedding between ourselves and be done with it?”
“Your Highness? Do you mean…?”
“If you are amenable to it, Marquis.”
Catching his drift, the Marquis smiled slowly.
Even if an imperial decree had been issued…
‘If Your Highness and Dolores sign the registry in the chapel first and consummate the union…!’
The marriage would be recognized as a sacred covenant, one that could not be easily annulled.
“However, Your Highness, the Grand Duke’s estate is keeping a close watch as well. It will not be easy to spirit Dolores away.”
“Haha, come now, Marquis. We need only send my brother somewhere else.”
Excitement brightening his face, Adrian unfurled a map.
“An urgent report arrived today stating that a riot broke out in Anglesey.”
Originally, the plan had been to let the local magistrate suppress it.
The scale had seemed small enough for that.
“Yet since it is close to the capital, it would be fitting enough to dispatch my splendid brother.”
The Grand Duke’s duty was to defend the empire.
With their leader gone, a gap would surely open among his subordinates.
“The moment Resurreccion leaves, bring Dolores straight to Catarina Cathedral, Marquis. Without leaving a mark on her, if possible!”
A few days after Angelica’s departure.
Dolores peered uneasily out into the darkening exterior.
‘Something is amiss.’
The surroundings had felt unusually unsettled as of late.
Outside, the frantic footsteps of military boots rang out in confusion.
She had heard that sound a few times during her days as Empress, but it had no reason to echo around here.
‘Is there no signal from outside?’
She rose to check the bushes. Just then, her bedroom door opened slowly.
The uninvited guest at this late hour was…
“Brother?”
“…Dolores.”
“What brings you here at this hour?”
“…”
James remained silent for a long moment.
Dolores eyed her brother with growing unease.
“If you have nothing to say, please leave—”
Her voice trailed off.
Her heart dropped straight to her stomach at the sight of the cloth clutched in James’s hand.
In an instant, James lunged toward her. Dolores spun around to flee.
Yet she immediately realized that had been a fatal mistake.
It had only made it easier for James to clamp the white handkerchief over her mouth.
“Dolores, hold still!”
“Mmph…!”
“We can’t leave any bruises on you!”
“Nngh!”
Dolores resisted with all her might, but her strength fell dreadfully short.
To think her own flesh and blood could go this mad.
‘I was careless!’
Things had gone so smoothly that she had let her guard down.
Perhaps from whatever drug soaked the cloth, her vision began to blur.
“Listen to me, it will all be over once you fall asleep, so just stop…!”
James’s voice faded into a buzzing hum.
Clutching the silver lighter with desperate resolve, she flicked the striker.
Click, click…!
“Mmph…!”
The sleeping drug pulled a heavy veil over her eyes.
Yet, summoning the last ounce of her strength, she struck a final spark.
Click…!
In that instant, the strength drained from her hands.
Dolores’s world was swallowed whole by an endless, pitch-black darkness.
…Chilled air brushed her cheek.
Dolores let out a soft groan as her eyelids fluttered.
“Ngh…”
Sensation slowly returned to her numb, frigid limbs.
Her head throbbed with a dull ache, the drug likely not yet fully worn off.
‘Where… where am I?’
Straining to lift her eyes, she caught sight of familiar sacred paintings.
Iconography meant to bless holy matrimony.
‘How could I ever forget this place?’
It was the room she had visited once before, just prior to taking her vows in the chapel.
Here, she had once dreamed of the beginning of a beautiful married life.
That dream had subsequently been shattered into dust, so there was no way she could ever forget it.
‘I’m in… the antechamber inside Catarina Cathedral.’
The realization sent a chill creeping over her flesh.
Even more so when she noticed what she was wearing.
She gasped.
It was not the gown she had worn at the manor, but a white silk dress.
A plain, threadbare bridal gown devoid of a single jewel.
“Ah, Dolly. You’re awake.”
“Your Highness Adrian.”
A familiar voice rang out, but it brought not an ounce of comfort.
Instead, goosebumps crawled up her spine.
The husband of her youth was gazing down at her with infinite tenderness.
Dressed, moreover, in the attire of a groom.
Dolores bit the inside of her cheek until she tasted blood, suppressing the bile rising in her throat.
“What have you done to me?”
“Nothing of consequence.”
“Nothing of consequence? How did you bring me here?”
“Young Marquis James was rather rougher than expected, I admit.”
Adrian shifted the blame without a second thought.
He stroked Dolores’s cheek with a wistful smile.
Seeing her in such a precarious state stirred a sense of pity that only made her appear lovelier in his eyes.
“Still, Dolly, I didn’t take you by force while you were unconscious.”
“…Excuse me?”
Dolores kept smiling in sheer disbelief. A hollow laugh was still a form of laughter, after all.
“Am I supposed to be grateful that I wasn’t violated?”
“That isn’t what I mean!”
Adrian replied in a soothing, measured tone.
“It shows how much I respect you. Any other man wouldn’t have waited with such patience.”
“…Your Highness Adrian.”
The smile vanished from Dolores’s face.
“People call that utter nonsense.”
“The only utter nonsense here is your sudden change of heart, Dolores.”
“…”
“Marrying my brother? However jealous you might be of Angelica, you chose the wrong way to show it.”
“Sigh.”
How she wished she could speak the truth of what she knew.
‘Would it have been better to be cast out as a madwoman?’
Yet had she done so, she might have spent her life locked away in an asylum or branded a heretic.
“The bishop will arrive shortly, and the signing will begin, Dolly.”
“…”
“Please, let us have no more surprises.”
Did he mistake her silence for resignation?
Adrian gave an easy smile and stepped out. A fleeting glimpse of the guards stationed outside showed before the door clicked shut.
“…Hah.”
Dolores let out a scoff and quietly began to move.
Catarina Cathedral was a place she had frequented for imperial functions.
‘Given the imperial visits, there are secret passages for safety.’
It was a secret she had learned on the day she became Crown Princess.
For instance, if one slid the full-length mirror in the antechamber to the side—
“Phew.”
Dolores let out a breath as she gazed into the pitch-black passage.
‘I must buy as much time as possible!’
Without a trace of fear, Dolores stepped inside.