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CHAPTER 52………
Meanwhile, there was someone else spending a long, sleepless night.
Larienne Heinz.
She was wandering restlessly around the castle, unable to fall asleep no matter how much she tossed and turned.
Tisha hit me.
Larienne mulled over the incident from earlier in the day. Over and over, hundreds, thousands, tens of thousands of times.
She said she hated me.
Normally, it would have been something to get angry about.
That Etisha dared ignore the words of her elder sister Larienne and act on her own whim. That she dared even slap her older sister across the face.
And yet, strangely, Larienne’s emotions didn’t flare up. Instead of igniting into a blazing fury, they only sagged, sinking heavy and deep.
Why on earth do I feel like this…?
Her lips pressed tight, Larienne bit down hard with a heavy expression.
Should she just reveal everything about the curse? Or storm into the wedding and ruin it? Countless thoughts swirled, yet none of them seemed right.
Tisha is going to die soon. She’ll leave me forever.
Her mouth stung as if pierced by tiny needles.
Without realizing it, Larienne was experiencing, for the first time in her life, an emotion called regret.
And along with it, another called self-reproach.
All I wanted was to be with Tisha. That was always all I wanted… so why…
Where had things gone so wrong?
Larienne had already walked too far down the wrong path to turn back. Even if she realized her mistake now, there was no chance to make amends.
Etisha would never return to her side again.
I’m… sad.
Larienne’s deep blue eyes grew damp.
She stubbornly gathered all her pride to keep from crying, but she could not stop her vision from blurring.
And then—behind her—a man’s amused voice rang out.
“What’s this? Are you crying?”
“…!”
Larienne hastily wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and turned. Someone was leaning with noble ease upon a long tree branch.
“Larienne Heinz. To think I’d find you crying here of all places. How surprising.”
“Wh–who are you?”
“How disappointing. Don’t tell me you don’t recognize me.”
The man jumped down from the tree with a nimble motion, then sauntered lazily through the darkness until he stood before her.
Larienne’s eyes widened when she recognized his face.
“…Vyss?”
Marquis Hexion.
His full name: Vyss Hexion.
Larienne, after a brief moment of confusion, scowled and grabbed him by the collar.
“You bastard. How many times did I tell you to stay away from Tisha? And yet you shamelessly followed her all the way north?!”
“Heh, shameless? Who’s really shameless here, I wonder? And for the record, I didn’t come north chasing Etisha. I’ve been here for three years already.”
“Like I care! Don’t you dare loiter around Tisha again!”
“My, mind your tongue, Lady Heinz. I am now Marquis Vyss Hexion.”
“…What? A marquis? How the hell did you become a marquis?”
“Well… how do you think?”
He shrugged, then added casually,
“On the battlefield, all sorts of things happen.”
Three years ago, the empire had still been at war. Back then, it wasn’t strange at all that one heir after another of House Hexion could have perished.
“I’m the last one left in my family now. It’s lonely, boring. I thought I’d come north to find some entertainment. I didn’t expect to run into Etisha Heinz—or rather, Etisha El, now a baroness.”
“…”
“Don’t you think it’s fate?”
Larienne tightened her grip on his collar. Hexion paid her no mind and instead lifted her chin.
“…”
“…”
Though they had met only a handful of times, whenever they did, they always sensed a deep kinship.
A twisted bond over the same dark hobby—putting people they liked into the palm of their hand, and playing with them.
“I warned you before. Clutching too tightly will only break them.”
“And I told you: if you’re going to waste that perverted pastime of yours on dozens of people, you might as well just kill yourself—it’d be better for the empire.”
For Larienne, all her obsession was centered solely on Etisha. But Hexion was different. Fickle as a migrating bird, he amused himself by toying with people from all walks of life like chess pieces.
“Still clinging to that pride, Larienne? From the looks of it, you’ve really been abandoned by Etisha.”
“Shut that mouth before I smash it.”
“You should’ve listened to my advice sooner. Then maybe things would’ve turned out differently.”
“I said shut up!”
“…Want me to help you?”
Larienne blinked.
“…What?”
His red eyes narrowed, amused at her reaction.
“If you want, I’ll help you. Help you get Etisha back.”
“…”
“It’s fine if you refuse.”
Her face reflected in his crimson eyes, her fiery red hair dulled within their bloody glow.
Vyss Hexion. A devil who delighted in toying with human emotions.
“You…”
Larienne bit her lip until it bled. She hated herself for even wavering at his offer for a second.
“Vyss. What could you possibly do?”
“Hm?”
“I know Tisha better than anyone. I don’t need your help. I’ll handle it myself.”
“…”
“And you. Don’t ever try to interfere between me and Tisha again. Don’t you dare approach her, and don’t you dare drag her into your sick hobbies.”
“Ha! Sick hobbies, is it?”
“If you ever hurt Tisha—if she suffers because of you—then no matter what it takes, I’ll kill you with my own hands.”
Her threat carried a murderous weight. Hexion raised an eyebrow and stepped back.
Though she had him by the collar a moment ago, somehow he had slipped free without her realizing.
“You’re as consistent as ever, Larienne Heinz. That’s what makes you interesting…”
His lazy gaze swept over her, lips curling into a faint smile.
“But you still don’t understand. I have no intention of touching Etisha.”
“…What?”
“She doesn’t even seem to remember me.”
If he had truly wanted to pursue her, he would have met her many times already. Yet aside from impulsively boarding her carriage once, Hexion had made no effort to appear before Etisha again.
“Am I really that forgettable? It was almost enough to make me cry. Like you, maybe even shed a tear or two.”
“…What?”
“I’m joking.”
Hands clasped behind his back, he began walking away slowly, swallowed by the darkness.
“Well then… let’s leave it here for old times’ sake. Lady Heinz, I hope you’ll remember to show proper respect to a marquis when we meet again.”
Now that Larienne Heinz had entered the stage as well, surely things would only get more interesting.
“Until next time.”
“….”
“Goodbye.”
Larienne blinked, and he was gone.
The night was so dark she couldn’t even tell which way he’d gone.
“…What a rotten bastard.”
Shaking off the uneasy feeling, she turned back toward Wintel Castle.
A faint bell seemed to ring.
Soft and distant, like a whisper.
As she focused on the sound, a veil shimmered before her eyes. White and sheer, like a curtain that revealed the shape beyond it.
And there he stood.
“Lady Etisha.”
His deep voice mingled with the bells, tickling her ears.
“Now, the kiss of vow.”
The veil was lifted. He approached. Their hands joined.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Etisha closed her eyes. A touch brushed her lips.
Like sinking into warm water. Like melting into him.
Cayenne’s arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her into his broad chest, where the hard strength of his muscles pressed against her.
“Now that we’ve made our vows, tonight must be our first night.”
Before she knew it, Etisha was pressed onto a bed, Cayenne’s lips still on hers.
The sheets wrinkled beneath them. Her long pink hair spilled and tangled.
And then—her dress tore.
The pure white wedding gown, heirloom of House Wintel, ripped easily in Cayenne’s large hands, exposing her pale slender legs…
“Ah!”
Etisha jolted awake.
She flung off the blanket and sat up, only to find her maid, Marin, standing at her bedside.
“My lady, Lady Etisha…! Something terrible has happened!”
Marin’s face was shockingly pale.
“Marin?”
Etisha too went pale. It had only been a dream about Cayenne, yet she felt guilty, as if caught doing something wrong. She blinked rapidly, forcing herself to focus.
“What’s the matter? What’s happened?”
“The Snow Castle—it’s in an uproar! There’s chaos everywhere!”
“What…?”
“The dress…! My lady’s wedding dress—”
“….”
“There’s no time! Please, come quickly!”
Marin hastily helped her up.
After a quick preparation, they rushed to the Snow Castle, where agitation buzzed even from the entrance.
“Wasn’t the wedding dress kept in the storage room?”
“The storage door must’ve been left unlocked…”
Servants murmured until they noticed Etisha’s arrival, then fell silent. She swallowed her anxiety and strode calmly inside.
But when she reached the storage room, her composure shattered.
Pieces of fabric littered the floor.
Slashed by sharp blades, shredded beyond recognition.
The pure white wedding dress had been hacked to rags, strewn everywhere.
So gruesome that Marin covered her mouth with her hand to stifle a scream.
“….”
Etisha gathered the remaining scraps of fabric in trembling hands. Her fingers quivered violently.
