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Chapter 8
Yes.
The reason I deliberately talked nonsense and acted to provoke Ludwig was for this exact moment.
‘Because I knew the Emperor would show up!’
The Emperor had personally arranged the marriage between Ludwig and me.
Since he didn’t trust his son, he supported his nephew Ludwig and used me as a political tool.
That’s also why the wedding ring on my finger was an imperial treasure.
At our engagement, the Emperor had given it to us with his blessings.
So it was planned that he would make a surprise appearance this morning to bless our wedding.
‘Of course, I remembered that timing clearly!’
If my calculations were right, the Emperor must’ve heard our argument.
He would surely misunderstand Ludwig as a playboy who abandoned his bride-to-be the night before the wedding.
Actually, it wasn’t a misunderstanding. It was the truth.
And then came my scream. It would’ve added fuel to the fire for the Emperor.
The Emperor walked over and yanked my wrist away from Ludwig.
He rolled up my sleeve and clicked his tongue.
“What happened to this bruise?”
‘Your son did it, sir,’ I wanted to say—but I didn’t.
I just murmured vaguely.
“It’s nothing.”
As I pulled my sleeve back down, the Emperor would likely think:
‘She’s trying to protect her fiancé.’
As expected, the Emperor glared at Ludwig in anger.
“I’m very disappointed in you, Ludwig.”
“No, Your Majesty! I didn’t do anything!”
But the Emperor didn’t believe him one bit.
He gave a stern warning in a low voice.
“You know very well that I arranged this marriage. And what it means.”
“Y-Your Majesty!”
“If you disappoint me again, I’ll have to consider other options.”
Ludwig’s face turned pale.
Unlike when he was alone with me, he couldn’t argue or criticize me in front of the Emperor.
‘Coward.’
Holding back his resentment, Ludwig carefully placed the veil on my head.
But he didn’t forget to whisper threats.
“Just wait until tonight.”
Inside the veil, I smirked and flipped up my middle finger hidden in the bouquet.
‘If I ever end up alone with you again, I’ll eat my own shoe!’
With that, our fourth wedding procession began—each of us thinking completely different things.
Familiar scenery of the capital passed outside the window.
I was sick of it by now.
Clip-clop, the horses trotted on the stone road.
Along with the sound of wheels turning, my heartbeat grew louder.
Soon, the bridal carriage passed by the Imperial Palace.
That was the place I had agreed to meet Arpad.
The clueless spectators cheered for the bride.
To me, their blessings sounded like curses.
“Waaah! Congratulations!”
“Your Grace, the Duchess!”
“You’re the perfect couple!”
“May the gods bless you both!”
I hated hearing it—but I kept the window wide open for one reason:
I had to keep a lookout.
‘Where is the Crown Prince? There? Or there? Maybe there?’
We agreed to meet here at noon.
But no matter how much I looked around the plaza, I didn’t see a single strand of his golden hair.
Suddenly, unease surged inside me.
‘No way… he’s not coming?’
Surely, the Crown Prince realized last night that Agrippina’s Tear did nothing for his madness.
That should’ve made my words more convincing.
He knows I have a way to stop him from going mad and help him become Emperor. He can’t ignore that.
‘But what if… he still doesn’t believe me?’
My heart pounded ominously.
‘If that’s the case…’
I’d have to try a riskier backup plan I’d prepared—
Then, bang!
The carriage jerked to a stop, and I almost fell forward.
“What was that?”
The carriage had stopped abruptly. People’s murmurs came from outside.
Regaining my balance, filled with anxiety and anticipation, I looked out the window.
And I saw him.
A man sitting proudly on a shining white horse, blocking the bridal procession.
‘Arpad!’
Bathed in the midday sunlight, Arpad’s hair shone brighter than the imperial crown.
“What’s going on?”
“What is this?”
The people were confused.
The wedding of the Emperor’s nephew Ludwig and Delphine’s only daughter Hillia—
This was second only to a royal wedding in importance.
Naturally, huge crowds had gathered, and now they were witnessing an unbelievable scene.
Someone was blocking the bride’s carriage headed to the Grand Temple—alone.
The knights should’ve shouted and subdued him.
If it weren’t for the man who stood in their way.
“The Crown Prince!”
The head knight escorting the bride gasped and called out.
“Your Highness… What brings you here…?”
He looked troubled and signaled his attendant with his eyes.
‘Go inform the Duke, quickly!’
He served Ludwig. Naturally, he had to report this to his master.
The quick-footed attendant tried to head toward the temple—when,
Thwack!
Like lightning, the Crown Prince pulled out a crossbow and shot the attendant in the leg.
“Argh!”
The attendant collapsed, clutching his leg.
The knights turned pale.
“Why are you doing this, Your Highness?!”
Arpad smiled with glowing red eyes. His murderous gaze sent chills through everyone.
“What else? I just caught a rat trying to sneak past me without permission.”
“Your words are too harsh!”
Ludwig’s knight reached for his sword, unable to bear the insult.
But he didn’t draw it.
‘Too many eyes watching.’
Drawing his sword against the Crown Prince would be considered treason—and might even implicate Ludwig.
And Ludwig would never tolerate that.
Then, while the knight hesitated, someone unexpected stepped forward.
Surprisingly, it wasn’t the Crown Prince.
No one expected her to act.
Rustle—under the noonday sun, a white veil fluttered.
“Milady!”
“Your Grace!”
To everyone’s shock, Hillia, the bride, stepped forward calmly.
In a composed voice, she greeted him.
“The daughter of Delphine greets Your Highness. What brings you here?”
Seeing her step up, the knight felt relieved.
‘Surely even a mad Crown Prince wouldn’t go wild in front of his cousin’s bride.’
He ignored the shame of hiding behind a delicate noble lady.
Then, surprisingly polite words were exchanged.
“So you’re the Delphine heiress. First time seeing you. Nice to meet you.”
“I rarely attended social events. My apologies.”
And then things got even stranger.
The Crown Prince, who blocked the wedding procession and shot a crossbow, suddenly dismounted.
His white cloak fluttered elegantly.
Only then did the knight realize—
Arpad was dressed in formal attire worn for New Year’s ceremonies or grand feasts.
Which was also fitting attire for… his own wedding.
Hillia, today’s bride, calmly requested:
“At this rate, I’ll be late for the ceremony. Please let us through.”
The knights’ eyes lit up with hope.
A noble lady had asked him personally. A man of honor would never refuse.
But everyone forgot one thing:
That the Crown Prince and “honor” didn’t belong in the same sentence.
With bold strides, he approached the bride—and shattered everyone’s hopes.
Whoosh—he reached out and lifted her veil.
For a man who wasn’t the groom to unveil the bride—it was a grave insult.
It could warrant a duel.
“Y-Your Highness!”
“You mustn’t!”
“What is the meaning of this…!”
People gasped—not just from shock, but from awe.
The bride’s beauty stunned the crowd.
The veil lifted, revealing her delicate, pale face.
Her soft pink curls were adorned with a crown of silver and diamonds.
Her blushing cheeks looked irresistibly sweet.
Her large violet eyes shimmered with every blink, shifting colors between blue and red.
‘She… she looks like a fairy…’
Even the wounded attendant forgot his pain for a moment, dazed by the sight.
