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Chapter 41
Anyway, the story goes on
After escorting Elia to the bridal waiting room, Cedric immediately set out to find the Empress’s attendant.
The groom, who had exited down the wedding road, reappeared in the hall, but no one dared approach him easily.
Just an hour ago, Cedric had been the center of attention.
Everyone at the ceremony had lined up just to offer him blessings and a few words.
Even while wearing a formal suit that pinched tightly at the waist—just to look good for Elia—Cedric had greeted them all with grace.
But now, people only stole sidelong glances at him, not daring to come near.
Naturally so—no one wanted to associate with someone who had fallen out of the Empress’s favor.
Grit. Cedric’s blue eyes glinted as he ground his teeth.
The tension in his handsome jaw banished any trace of gentleness, leaving only menace and intimidation.
Where the hell did he go?
Even after scouring the entire hall, Cedric couldn’t spot the Empress’s attendant.
The man must have fled the moment things turned risky.
If not, then just the sight of Cedric frantically hunting him down would have sent him running.
As Cedric roughly swept back his bangs that had fallen forward while scanning the area—
“Lord Cedric!”
Edwin, the master of ceremonies, came rushing up.
“Edwin! Have you seen him?”
“I did. This way, quickly…”
After a cautious glance around, Edwin hurried Cedric off to a secluded corner.
With all the guests’ eyes on them, there was always a chance someone might overhear.
Under the shade of a sprawling zelkova tree, Edwin spoke.
“The moment you exited, he boarded a gondola and went down the canal.”
“You should’ve stopped him!”
Cedric burst out angrily.
The man should’ve been restrained—locked up, even—not let go so easily!
In fact, it was a mistake from the start to design the gondola to let passengers come and go freely with gravity magic.
As Cedric leaned against the tree, massaging his temple in frustration, Edwin called over a waiter, took a glass of champagne, and handed it to him to calm him down.
The drink was so weak it was closer to juice.
Edwin said,
“Would catching him even change anything?”
“…”
“He’s the Empress’s personal attendant. We cannot just detain or imprison him as we please.”
“But we could at least have a little ‘conversation,’” Cedric said coldly.
Edwin swallowed hard.
What kind of conversation involves fists and magic?
He longed to scold Cedric but restrained himself, choosing diplomacy instead.
“For now, don’t linger here. Go back to Lady Elia.”
“Elia is resting. Olivia and Calib are with her.”
“Then you should be with her too! Out here, you’re nothing but a spectacle.”
Even Edwin’s tone lost its usual formality—his nerves were frayed as well.
But instead of pointing it out, Cedric only shot him a look, as if to ask why he must be at Elia’s side.
Edwin suddenly felt frustrated.
Does he even like Lady Elia at all?
His doubts ended quickly.
He remembered Cedric’s lonely childhood and narrow social circle.
Perhaps Cedric wasn’t even aware of his own emotions.
As a capable aide, Edwin decided he needed to take the lead.
“Think about it. What is Lady Elia’s role today?”
“…The bride.”
“Exactly. And the bride is usually called the star of the wedding. Lady Elia really was the center of attention—admired and envied by everyone.”
A commoner marrying into a grand noble family. A breathtakingly beautiful woman. The happiest person alive.
Those were the phrases trailing behind Elia today.
“But now? The ceremony has collapsed. She’s learned that marrying into Indigentia means joining a family that has lost the imperial favor.”
“…”
“And worst of all, the one who lost that favor is her husband!”
Cedric had remained still through Edwin’s dramatics, but he flinched at the word husband.
“Of course, Lady Elia didn’t marry into Indigentia to exploit or devour it…”
Edwin lowered his voice to a whisper.
“I told you before, didn’t I? Young women often suffer deep depression before their weddings.”
“…!”
Something flickered in Cedric’s eyes.
He had noticed how pensive Elia seemed in the days leading up to the wedding.
Even if theirs was a political marriage, even if divorce would benefit her greatly…
It was still a real marriage.
Cedric would never have a true partner in life—but Elia might.
Yet if she divorced, even if she later found a good match, the grandeur of this wedding would cast too heavy a shadow.
Sting.
That obvious thought hit him anew, and a vague pain stirred in his chest.
“So you must return to her quickly, and make sure she doesn’t try to annul this marriage…”
Edwin went on, but Cedric barely heard him.
He rubbed at his chest where a sharp, stabbing ache lingered.
What was that?
His premarital health exam had shown nothing wrong.
My heart…
The thought of Elia divorcing him and falling in love with another man—
It hurts.
The inexplicable pain kept pricking at his nerves.
At last, Cedric accepted Edwin’s advice and headed for the bridal waiting room.
If she’s feeling down, how do I comfort her?
Lately, when Calib seemed gloomy, a lemon honey candy always cheered him up a little.
Should I bring Elia her favorite Earl Grey macarons?
Conveniently, a passing waiter’s tray carried chamomile relaxers.
Cedric took two glasses and a box of macarons, then opened the door to the waiting room—a small separate building.
“Elia! Hurry, eat this too!”
“Lady Elia, I brought you a drink!”
“No, I’m really fine—!”
“Big sis, the meat’s all grilled!”
“Ah, the oil’s splattering—hold on!”
What greeted Cedric was absolute chaos.
A huge table, laden with all sorts of delicacies and Elia’s favorite desserts, had somehow been procured.
Olivia pressed a straw of apple ade to Elia’s lips, while Calib busily sliced éclairs in front of her.
The wall of the waiting room had even been broken through; beyond it, Bilt was sweating as he grilled barbecue.
Daphne, clutching her cumbersome dress, carried platters of meat back and forth across the rubble.
Angela, meanwhile, had tied an apron over Elia’s wedding dress.
“What… what kind of catastrophe is this?”
Edwin muttered behind him, and Cedric silently agreed.
Elia leaned back desperately, dodging Olivia’s straw, Calib’s dripping éclairs, and Daphne’s little steak portions.
Then her eyes found Cedric.
Flash.
Her troubled face suddenly lit up as though she’d seen a savior or a Buddha. She called out with relief,
“Cedric!”
Just his name—but it sounded like a plea to rescue her from this well-meaning hell.
Cedric handed the drinks and macarons to Edwin, cleared his throat, and said,
“What is the meaning of this commotion?”
His expressionless hydrangea-blue eyes swept the room.
It was Calib, who had finally managed to stuff an éclair into Elia’s mouth, who answered.
“Olivia said sweets make Elia feel better, so we were feeding her.”
That explained Olivia standing by with drinks to keep Elia from choking.
And Daphne?
Still frozen with a knife in hand, Daphne suddenly stood, spread her dress wide, and bowed.
“Congratulations on your marriage, Lord Cedric. Desserts are fine, but I thought meat would be the best way to lift spirits.”
“Well, that’s true,” Edwin murmured quietly behind him.
Cedric shot him a sharp look, then approached Elia, who was silently begging to be saved.
“Elia, please come this way. There is something I must tell you.”
“Yes!”
She sprang to her feet as if she’d been waiting for that moment, apologized to the others, and hurried to Cedric’s side.
Despite the ordeal, her beauty remained undimmed—it was astonishing.
Just as Cedric extended his arm to escort her—
“Where are you taking her? She’s exhausted, she needs to rest more…” Daphne protested.
“To help her rest,” Cedric said coldly.
His voice was so sharp that Daphne flinched.
Cedric cast a weary look around the chaotic waiting room.
“Here, she can neither rest nor think. Not when it’s full of food, and even the wall is gone, letting all the guests’ eyes fall on her.”
Care is good, but too much is harmful.
How could Elia relax, smothered in overbearing concern?
“She can only truly rest away from here—somewhere with no eyes upon her. Even in empty air, if need be.”
His cool tone silenced everyone present.
“I just wanted to make her happy…”
“I was only worried about her…”
Calib and Daphne murmured defensively, but Cedric didn’t reply.
Only Elia, trembling slightly, looked uncertain what to do.
