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Chapter 13
While choosing clothes for a long time, Azellia briefly stepped away. Now that I thought about it, Axion had been unusually quiet for a while. Turning my head in curiosity, I saw that he still had his lips tightly sealed.
“Why aren’t you saying anything?”
He wasn’t the talkative type in the presence of others, but today he was even quieter than usual.
When I looked at him expectantly, urging him to speak, he finally opened his mouth.
“You two seem close.”
I reacted a beat late to his words.
“With Azellia?”
“Yes.”
Depending on what one considered a “close” relationship, the answer could vary… But I did like her. I had always admired women who were confident and did their job well.
Even if my circumstances had changed, that feeling hadn’t.
Especially in a time with emperors and nobles, it was extremely rare for women to have a profession of their own.
Azellia was one of those rare women.
And she treated me comfortably, too.
So, does that mean we’re close?
While I was pondering, I nodded. But Axion, seemingly displeased, pouted slightly without a word.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s nothing.”
His suspicious reply made me ask, half-jokingly,
“Don’t tell me… you’re jealous?”
“……”
His silence was practically confirmation.
Axion didn’t say anything, but he didn’t look away either.
‘Just a little while ago, you were saying it’s fine even if I ended up in bed with Maxime Dolan…’
There wasn’t even time to adjust to his sudden change in attitude.
‘Well, he did say he was jealous of Mileta, too.’
Remembering the way he had practically confessed that in frustration made this feel less strange.
I couldn’t tell him not to lie and then also tell him not to be jealous. That would be hypocritical. So I stayed silent.
At that moment, he reached out and brushed my earlobe.
“W-What are you doing?”
“It turned red.”
The moment he said that, I felt the heat rush to my face.
I quickly picked up the catalog Azellia had left behind and fanned myself with it.
“…It’s just hot.”
“Let me help you.”
Taking the catalog with gentle hands, Axion began to fan me, practically like a servant.
He continued until Azellia returned. Only when I motioned for him to stop did he finally lower the catalog.
At this rate, a rumor might start that I was treating the grand duke like a personal attendant. Completely unaware of my inner turmoil, Axion just smiled at me with the kindest expression in the world.
After searching for fabrics for a while, Azellia returned and stopped short, watching the two of us.
Azellia liked the Regent Princess—but that was separate from her awareness of the princess’s colorful history with men.
And it was the first time she was seeing Grand Duke Dierik, the man at the center of many such rumors, up close.
‘Now I see why people are so crazy about him.’
As the imperial tailor, failing to catch on to society’s gossip would mean she was lacking in her craft.
But in that regard, Azellia was exceptionally capable.
She still remembered clearly the moment when Grand Duke Dierik had appeared in the capital, newly engaged to the Regent Princess.
Almost every day, new comments about his ridiculous good looks would pop up.
“Today he looked like a sculpture of Damien.” “He looks like a mermaid from the sea turned human.” — rumors like these had swept through high society like a catchy tune.
Things were quiet now, but the interest hadn’t faded.
It was more like the calm before a storm. Everyone was waiting to see the Grand Duke at the upcoming holiday celebration.
Since he was the Regent Princess’s fiancé, it was natural that Azellia, as the royal tailor, would be making his clothes. She had lost countless nights of sleep over the designs.
The problem was the Regent Princess herself.
There was always a chance she might change her mind and bring Maxime Dolan instead.
Given the recent rumors, that was a very real possibility. So seeing her appear today with Grand Duke Dierik was a surprise.
At first, Azellia thought she had brought him just to save his reputation—but something didn’t feel right.
According to the gossip, the two were supposed to have a terrible relationship.
Even while explaining the clothing details, Azellia didn’t miss the subtle undercurrents between them.
‘This is it. This is happening!’
Their casual touches, the Grand Duke’s burning gaze, the Regent Princess’s slight tension…
Azellia could barely keep a foolish grin from forming on her face.
Clearly, the rumors had been wrong.
Once the holiday passed, there would be an avalanche of inquiries about the clothes they wore.
As a royal tailor, she couldn’t just sell clothes to anyone—but she could sell the rights to her designs to other dressmakers at a high price.
Her mind was working faster than ever. The more she calculated, the more zeros she added.
Eventually, she arrived at one clear conclusion:
‘The closer the Regent Princess and Grand Duke get… the richer I become.’
Now crystal-clear about what she needed to do, Azellia’s steps took on a sense of purpose.
When she reappeared, the Regent Princess subtly stepped aside. Azellia didn’t miss the Grand Duke’s faint shift in expression.
As the holiday approached, Lexin grew increasingly busy.
He was the only direct imperial heir. Even though I was handling government affairs in his place for now, those responsibilities would soon be his.
“It’s okay.”
Even with my reassurances, Lexin remained gloomy.
From the very first day of the holiday, Lexin had a lot to do—most notably, reading the ceremonial declaration that would open the festivities, which would last about three days.
It was a heavy burden.
It wasn’t that Lexin couldn’t read, but the declaration was written in the old tongue—an ancient language difficult even for adults to pronounce.
Naturally, Lexin struggled with the pronunciation. I tried to comfort him.
Still, things didn’t improve. I was awkward and unfamiliar with this kind of support.
It felt like I was pretending to be kind when I really didn’t want to say these things at all.
And I could easily imagine how this looked to Eriksen, who watched with hawk-like eyes.
‘He must think I’m just being fake.’
“I’m sorry… Aunt…”
Lexin’s voice was barely a whisper.
He looked so deflated I thought he might burst into tears at any moment.
I was the one at a loss.
‘No! Don’t cry!’
I didn’t even know how to properly comfort someone—how could I stop him from crying?
Unsure of what to say, I remained silent. Lexin seemed to interpret my silence as anger and started rubbing his eyes.
A clear sign he was trying not to cry. And for me, a red alert.
‘Think! Think! What should I say…?’
“Lady Geneia also made many mistakes with the old tongue when she was young.”
Mileta suddenly spoke. In that moment, she looked like a savior.
With my unspoken permission, she stepped forward from where she had been standing at a distance.
Lexin’s eyes widened as he looked up at her. His eyes were already red from rubbing.
“…Really?”
“Yes, truly. She used to cry every day, saying she didn’t want to learn the old tongue.”
He turned to me as if to confirm it.
I didn’t remember, but I nodded slowly.
“It’s true. When I was your age, I couldn’t read a word of it.”
His violet eyes sparkled instantly.
Lexin was only eleven. Expecting a child that young to handle the intense scrutiny of powerful adults was too much.
“It’s okay to make mistakes. I made hundreds at your age.”
“…But if I don’t do well, I’ll only be a burden to you, Aunt.”
He murmured.
Honestly, in the past, I might have thought the same. No, I probably would’ve welcomed his mistakes as justification to claim the throne for myself.
And Eriksen definitely still believed I was trying to make Lexin fail, using the old tongue as an excuse.
His face darkened by the second.
“You can’t be a burden to me.”
“……”
As soon as I said it, I regretted it. Depending on how it sounded, it could be taken as me drawing a line. As if to say, You could never affect me.
Sure enough, Lexin looked startled.
“What I meant was…”
He was just eleven, yet my words kept faltering.
It was incomprehensible. All I needed to do was speak kindly. Why was that so hard?
‘I never thought of you as family. If you think I did, don’t. Just letting you sleep in this house is already more than enough.’
Suddenly, I remembered the words my aunt had once said to me.
No wonder I couldn’t say warm things—I’d never heard them myself.
‘Does that mean I’ll never be able to say kind things?’
That thought stung. The idea that woman still had power over me disgusted me.
Determined, I carefully chose my words.
“Lexin.”
He slowly looked up at the sound of my gentle voice.
