Previously
Evgenia realizes Melissa is flustered because Damian, the High Priest and Melissa's unrequited love, will be officiating the wedding. Evgenia becomes paralyzed with fear that Damian’s divine powers might expose her as an interloper in the villainess's body.
Euclid arrived at the Temple having stayed up the entire night.
Sleep had eluded him, eaten away by tangled worries and racing thoughts.
Fortunately, despite all his agonizing, he did not regret deciding on today’s wedding.
In fact, the thought of Philip, the servants, and anyone at the Imperial Palace having likely caught wind by now of his marriage and his bride's identity filled him with a strange sense of satisfaction.
Even so, before the ceremony began, there was one person Euclid needed to see.
His bride-to-be, Evgenia.
He already felt terribly apologetic toward her. Recognizing the wounds she carried and the state of mind she must have been in to agree to this match made it impossible for him to simply let things slide.
What if she showed the slightest hint of regret during their talk? He wouldn't be able to call off the wedding now…
Weighed down by these anxieties, Euclid arrived outside the bridal waiting room.
Adjusting his pristine wedding attire, he fought down the tension coiling inside him and knocked on the door.
Yet—
No matter how many times he knocked, no answer came from within.
With the ceremony fast approaching, it made no sense for the bride to be missing from her waiting room. What troubled him even more was that he had seen her maid leave only moments before.
Which meant Lady Evgenia was almost certainly inside, alone…
The instant that thought crossed his mind, a ghastly image—one he didn't even want to contemplate—flashed through Euclid's head.
He shut his eyes, steadying himself reflexively against the wall.
His heart hammered violently against his ribs, hot breaths tearing past his lips.
Unlike him, Lady Evgenia could call a halt to this marriage whenever she wished.
It would be as simple as running away, even now.
So why was the worst-case scenario taking root in his mind—the horrific image of her doing something unthinkable?
Overcome by an inexplicable dread, Euclid seized the doorknob on impulse.
“!”
The moment the door flew open, he found Evgenia on the verge of drinking from an ominous little vial.
The blood in his veins ran ice-cold.
Euclid lost his composure entirely. He couldn't even remember why he had come or what he had planned to say.
By the time he came to his senses, he was standing right in front of Evgenia, his brow furrowed as he stared down at the shattered remains of the vial on the floor.
Her gaze, brimming with a mix of bewilderment and resentment, met his.
Unable to contain himself, Euclid parted his lips.
His head drooped low, and for the first time, his once-unshakable resolve began to waver.
What had allowed him to press forward with such a selfish decision was the belief that Evgenia had consented.
Even while suspecting—even hoping—that she hadn't taken the marriage seriously and had agreed in a fleeting rush of emotion, he had clung to that frail justification.
Swallowing a bitter smile at his own contradictions, Euclid pulled out a handkerchief.
Ignoring his trembling hands, he carefully cradled Evgenia's hands in his to check for glass shards or traces of the vial's liquid.
Despite his scattered thoughts, he seemed to have reined in his strength. Her palms were unharmed and clean.
Relieved, Euclid finished wiping her hands and slipped the handkerchief back into his pocket.
He met her gaze squarely as he spoke.
It was then that Evgenia, who hadn't uttered a single word until now, addressed him.
He had braced himself for her to panic or lash out in fury because he had shattered the vial without permission. But her voice was remarkably calm.
That single word made Euclid’s heart skip a beat.
Even so, he hid his distress behind a practiced mask.
…Or so he had thought.
A faint smile tugged at the corners of her lips, as though she found the whole thing amusing.
Euclid’s eyelids twitched violently at the sight of her serene expression.
Ah, he’s driving me crazy!
Watching Euclid blink those innocent eyes several times before finally grasping the situation and burying his flushed face in one hand, I could barely suppress the urge to burst out laughing.
Honestly, when the vial first shattered, I was so stunned that my mind went completely blank.
It felt as if some unseen force had struck me—or rather, a hand.
Yet how could that be? Surely the door had swung open suddenly, startling me into dropping it.
Still, I couldn't fathom how the bottle had ended up flying across the room, or why it had shattered as though someone had hurled it against the wall…
I didn't have time to fret over such trivial details.
It was a pity to lose the medicine I’d been so eager to take, having even prayed over it. But far more urgent was the fear that the black liquid might have stained my white wedding dress.
After a quick check, I breathed a sigh of relief to find no trace of it on the fabric.
All the same, I resolved to have Anne look me over later just to be sure. Having made up my mind, I lifted my head.
Who on earth had the nerve to barge into the bridal waiting room without knocking…
Wait, no, calm down!
Stand down, stand down! Friendly fire!
The person standing in the doorway was none other than my favorite, Euclid. The moment I laid eyes on him, I hurriedly revised my thoughts.
Someone as considerate as him would never fail to knock.
I must have been so absorbed in my prayer that I simply hadn't heard him.
Sure enough, Euclid, looking troubled by my silence, strode toward me with a furrowed brow.
When those golden eyes of his—blazing like molten sunlight—drew so close, my heart dropped into my stomach.
I had always thought of him as someone who wore a steady, gentle smile, so seeing an expression like that on his face caught me entirely off guard.
Yet, unfamiliar as it was, I didn't dislike it. On the contrary, a strange delight fluttered in my chest, as if I had uncovered a new side of him that never appeared in the novel.
What’s more, the black silk suit, tailored to perfection by the Duchy of Basilian, suited him flawlessly.
Everything from his cravat and cufflinks down to his dress shoes was impeccable. It was as though a master’s touch had elevated his already handsome features. I found myself staring blankly at him, completely entranced.
I blinked, momentarily failing to grasp his words.
The question marks spinning in my head rapidly turned into exclamation marks.
Oh, my goodness!
So that was why he burst in without permission—what a ridiculous misunderstanding!
Of course, considering I had been obsessed with the Crown Prince until recently and he caught me just as I was about to down what probably looked like poison, it wasn't entirely unreasonable for him to leap to that conclusion.
Still, seriously, how could he be this adorable?
What on earth made him think that?
I clamped down on my laughter, holding it back with sheer willpower.
His heartbroken expression, pleading with me not to do it, was so lovely that I wanted to savor the moment just a little longer.
Right then, Euclid pulled out a handkerchief and took my hands with utmost care.
I froze at the sudden touch, but he began dabbing gently at my palms and fingers with slow, deliberate strokes, as though trying to soothe me.
Through the handkerchief, his warmth seeped into my skin.
The heat of his touch bled into my cold, stiff fingers, bringing them back to life.
With it, the lingering dread and dark thoughts that had gripped my heart melted away, leaving me wrapped in peaceful calm.
With Euclid by my side, I felt as though I could face any challenge.
So maybe there was no harm in letting this misunderstanding linger a moment longer…
Wait—absolutely not!