Even the Devil Regrets it - Chapter 21
A beautiful woman with red hair and bright blue eyes. But so, what?
Felix didn’t feel even the slightest stir when he saw Aileen standing beside Tristan.
Instead, her dazzling appearance was so overdone that he found it unpleasant. In his opinion, a true beauty should be elegant and graceful. A woman who flaunted her looks so boldly only came across as cheap.
Without realizing it, Felix had stopped paying attention to any woman who didn’t have platinum blonde hair and a delicate frame. But he wasn’t even aware of this change in himself.
He quickly looked away from Aileen and walked toward Tristan.
“How do you feel, knowing your one and only sister is about to become the Grand Duchess?”
Tristan let out a tense laugh and ran a hand through his hair at Felix’s question.
“What does that have to do with me? Whether she becomes Grand Duchess or not doesn’t concern me.”
His words, as if the question wasn’t worth answering, were filled with annoyance.
“Why wouldn’t it concern you? If your sister becomes the Grand Duchess, there are plenty of benefits you could gain.”
“Hah. As if she could actually manage that.”
Tristan muttered to himself, then glanced at Felix to see his reaction.
“I’m busy. I’ll be going now.”
With that, he hurried off with Aileen, disappearing into the crowd as if running away.
Felix narrowed his eyes. He felt a strange sense of discomfort, something he had never noticed before. A thought suddenly came to him, one that had never crossed his mind until now.
Tristan and Juliana were siblings, yet they didn’t resemble each other at all.
Tristan had light brown hair and green eyes. At best, he might look vaguely similar to Juliana, but that was only when comparing appearances. If that alone were enough, then half the nobles in the empire could be considered related.
Tristan’s eyes were an ordinary shade of green. They looked nothing like Juliana’s deep emerald eyes, which drew people in every time they looked at her.
Their overall presence was also completely different. The Count and Countess of Barnett and Tristan all gave off a similar impression. Juliana, on the other hand, felt like she didn’t belong with them at all, like oil floating on water.
What was it? Why was he thinking this now?
Felix stood still, gently stroking his chin. The more he thought about it, the stranger it seemed. He couldn’t believe he had never questioned it before.
“There’s no harm in finding out,” he thought.
With that, Felix left the social club and began walking with purpose.
Juliana was sitting in the garden, where the warm sunlight poured down. In her hands was a salon invitation sent by Marchioness Cheryl Clemence.
Now that the engagement was official, invitations started arriving as if everyone had been waiting for the moment. But how many of them had sent the invitations because they truly liked her? Probably none.
Those thoughts pulled her back into memories from the past.
A woman who didn’t have her husband’s approval had no real power in social circles. No, it wasn’t just that she had no influence. Such women were like fish laid out on a chopping board. They had to be ready to be torn apart at any time by poisonous tongues and sharp glances.
She clearly remembered the eyes full of mockery and contempt. The twisted smiles hiding ridicule. The whispering voices behind fans.
Even Juliana, who always held herself with perfect posture and flawless manners, began to wear down under the constant attacks. The more openly Felix brought Aileen around, the smaller her own place became.
Eventually, she cut off all social ties and stopped leaving the marquessate.
It was a lovely day. Spring flowers were in full bloom, white clouds floated slowly across a blue sky, and the garden was filled with the fresh scent of greenery.
But Juliana, sitting in the middle of it all, seemed to notice none of it. She was lost deep in thought.
A shadow hung over her emerald eyes. Every time she remembered the past, it felt like a label reading “failure” was stuck to her.
Heavy and filthy emotions coiled around her, pushing her forward. They told her to take revenge. To return the pain she had suffered.
Why did revenge feel so black and cold?
It was like standing in the middle of a muddy road during a winter downpour, her entire body freezing as if it were turning to ice. Juliana let out a bitter, breathless sigh.
She had no intention of forgiving them. Even if she could go back one year before the marriage, even if she was the only one who remembered everything, it would be the same.
Even if they had not yet done what they would eventually do, she had no plans to look the other way.
She had been twisted by everything that had happened. She had become someone bitter and angry. So why her? Why had the mark of a Saint candidate appeared on someone like her, someone far from holy?
While Juliana was lost in her thoughts, Atalante, who had followed her into the garden and was wandering nearby, suddenly let out a loud scream.
“Kyaaah!”
“What is it?”
Startled, Juliana jumped up and rushed over to Atlante. His face had gone completely pale.
“A bug, a bug…”
At the word “bug,” Juliana let out a sigh, her expression fading into exasperation as she asked in a flat voice,
“A bug, what about it?”
“I am the sacred and noble Tear of God. There is no way I would ever eat a bug. I would never even look at something like that…”
“And?”
“I was just looking at one that happened to crawl by, but somehow I ended up eating it without realizing!”
Juliana stood there in silence, unsure whether she should comfort him or not. As she tried to think of what to say, Atlante screamed again.
“Kyaaah!”
Now what? Juliana looked at him, clearly asking with her eyes. Atlante, still in shock, spoke in a gloomy tone.
“The worst part is that it tasted good. This is impossible.”
Atlante was spiraling into panic, muttering aimlessly in disbelief. Just then, Rosie approached.
“My lady, His Grace the Grand Duke has arrived.”
Rosie glanced behind her with a troubled look. She quietly explained that although she had offered to escort him to the drawing room, His Grace had insisted on coming to the garden when he heard Juliana was there.
“It’s alright, Rosie. Please prepare some tea and refreshments at the garden table.”
“Yes, my lady.”
As Rosie turned to leave, Juliana quickly called her back.
“Rosie, could you take him to his room on your way?”
Rosie tilted her head slightly, glancing at Atlante who stood frozen like something broken, still caught in his panic.
“Something happened. I’ll explain later.”
Juliana gently urged Rosie and Atlante to leave. Meanwhile, Braeden had noticed the crow and looked puzzled.
“What is that?”
Normally, Atlante would have flown into a rage at being called “that” but this time he was too shocked to even react. Grateful for the silence, Juliana answered calmly.
“He is my pet bird.”
“A bird you keep?”
“Yes, I take care of him.”
Braeden’s expression grew more complicated. Most ladies preferred delicate canaries or colorful birds. A crow was unusual.
Crows had long been known as messengers of the gods. What was even more interesting was that they were said to serve both divine and demonic forces.
There is probably no need to think too deeply about it. Braeden brushed off the thought, deciding he was overanalyzing Juliana’s unusual taste in pets.
“Please have a seat.”
Juliana led him to the table she had prepared in the garden. Braeden sat across from her. As the breeze passed through the leaves above them, shadows danced softly across her face.
Her pale skin, bright and clear in the shifting light, drew his gaze. But his eyes soon moved to the invitation she held. Recognizing the seal of the Clemence family, he frowned.
“Is something wrong?”
Juliana asked, trying to understand the reason for his visit.
“Nothing in particular. I just came to talk. It looks like you have received quite a few invitations.”
“The engagement is over, so I suppose people are curious about who I am.”
Juliana chose not to go into detail about the endless invitations and simply replied that way.
“Nothing from the Imperial Palace?”
“No, not yet.”
No one knew just how tense Braeden had felt when the Empress had casually invited Juliana for tea after the engagement ceremony.
Why were people so serious about gatherings where everyone smiled while whispering behind each other’s backs?
If he could, Braeden would have told her to burn every invitation and stay away from all of them.
But he knew he could not say that. He quietly took a deep breath and pulled something from inside his coat, placing it in front of her.
“What is this?”
Juliana’s eyes widened as she looked at what he had given her. It was a thick checkbook.
A blank checkbook issued under the name of the Grand Duchy of Ortis. A checkbook where she could write any amount and use it like cash, backed by immense wealth.
“Why are you giving this to me?”
Just moments ago, Juliana had been holding an invitation and reflecting on her past. Now her voice shook without meaning to.
A woman without her husband’s approval also had no access to wealth.
Even though Juliana was an exceptionally talented and well-bred lady, there was only so much she could do without her own financial resources. Without proper funds, her abilities were limited.
“I thought you might need this if you plan to attend all those invitations. Use it however you wish. The amount doesn’t matter. And if you’re not sure how to manage the money, my aide will help you. Feel free to rely on him as well.”
As Braeden nodded toward the back, Lochlan, who had been standing at a respectful distance, gave a polite bow.