Find the One Who Abandoned Me - Chapter 97

At the Crown Prince’s words, the attendant looked momentarily confused. Clementia, of all people wasn’t she the one this prince usually adored without question? Now he wanted to confront her?

Sensing the doubt in his servant’s expression, the Crown Prince let out a short laugh.

“A kiss of apology might be the only way I’ll feel better.”

The attendant sighed internally, unsurprised, and replied like the loyal servant he was.

“As you wish, Your Highness. I hope it turns out in your favor.”

Winter had quietly settled over the kingdom.

The air no longer carried the warmth of sunlight but the chill of snow. Calliope opened the window in her room and looked up at the darkening sky. The heavy clouds suggested that snow might start falling tonight.

Wrapped in a thick shawl, she let out a long sigh. A pale breath escaped her lips, quickly fading in the cold. When she closed the window, Susan, who stood nearby, stepped forward and adjusted the shawl more snugly around her shoulders.

“You haven’t seemed yourself lately, my lady. Is something bothering you?”

Calliope gave a tired smile and shook her head.

“No… It’s probably just the cold. I think I’m feeling the season.”

“I’ll let the kitchen know to prepare something warm tonight—maybe a nice soup.”

“Thanks. That would be lovely.”

After Susan left the room, only Jack and Calliope remained.

She quietly sank into her thoughts—

“Achoo!”

“…”

“Forgive me, my lady—ah, achoo!”

“Leave.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Once Jack scurried out, silence returned. Calliope leaned back into her thoughts.

In just a few days, the Saintess from the Empire would arrive. The thought had weighed heavily on her mind, keeping her awake night after night.

She couldn’t stop dreaming about Isaac, turning his back on her and swearing loyalty to that woman. The image played over and over in her mind, like a nightmare she couldn’t escape.

On nights like that, she quietly slipped into Isaac’s room. She would crawl into his bed and bury herself in his arms.

The first time, he was startled. But with each passing night, he grew used to it. Now, he would gently hold her and stroke her back as she fell asleep in his arms.

His tenderness nearly brought her to tears. It scared her—how easily she could lose that warmth again. But she knew she couldn’t cling to him forever.

She sat at her desk, folded her arms, and slowly began to organize her thoughts.

The palace was bustling with preparations for the Saintess’s visit. Even in the freezing weather, flowers were being brought in to decorate every corner of the palace with color and elegance.

And for good reason—this wasn’t just any guest. This was the Saintess, the chosen of the temple, acknowledged even by the Emperor of the Empire. The kingdom needed to impress her, but more importantly, they couldn’t afford to be looked down upon.

After all, Patollia was one of the few kingdoms on the continent that hadn’t become an imperial vassal.

The entire court was thrilled. A visit from the Saintess—known as the Messenger of the Divine, the Daughter of the One God—was considered a sacred honor.

But for Calliope, she was nothing less than a thief.

That woman had stolen everything—her future, her peace, and Isaac. Calliope remembered those pitiful eyes, the ones filled with fake guilt as she accepted Isaac’s vow. That phony innocence infuriated her.

“This time… things won’t go her way.”

Calliope was a woman consumed by love. She had done everything—anything—to clear Isaac’s path. If he abandoned her now, it would be no different than abandoning herself.

She sighed deeply. Just then, Susan returned from the kitchen and asked,

“Shall I prepare your outfit for the evening, my lady?”

“Yes. I suppose it’s about time.”

Calliope had plans today. Riona had been invited to exhibit her work at a major art show hosted by the House of Glayderth. This time, she was being featured as one of the main artists—an achievement Calliope couldn’t ignore.

She followed Susan into the dressing room and chose a heavy white velvet gown. A short cloak made of soft mink fur was draped over her shoulders.

As Susan worked on her hair, she couldn’t help but think:

She looks like she was made of snowflakes.

White hair, white dress, soft white fur—Calliope looked like a fairy sculpted from snow. But with the elegance and presence she now carried, she resembled a goddess of snow more than anything else.

Susan and Jack had accompanied her to many parties. Each time, they’d noticed the way countless men stole glances at her.

Though my lady never paid them any mind.

At every party, she always brought Isaac. Her eyes never strayed from him. Even when she stepped away to mingle with other noble families, her focus always returned to her fiancé.

And Isaac was no different. Whenever a young man tried to approach her, he would glare with such menace that they’d retreat without even saying a word.

Honestly, the two of them are a perfect match.

With that thought, Susan finished styling her lady’s hair. She braided small sections on each side and tied them with crimson ribbons.

Tonight, Calliope looked flawless—elegant, proud, and heartbreakingly beautiful.

“All done, my lady.”

At Susan’s words, Calliope stood up and responded,

“It’s cold today, so stay at the estate. I’ll take Jack with me.”

“Will you be all right going without me?”

“Sure. It’s just an exhibition, so it’ll probably be full of stuffy old men anyway. You’ll be better off staying warm here.”

“Thank you, my lady.”

“Oh, and find Jack. I kicked him out earlier—he’s probably off sulking somewhere.”

“I already know where he is. It’s always the same.”

Calliope made her way down to where the carriage waited, while Susan hurried to the corner of the estate where Jack was—as usual—curled up under the blanket she always prepared for him. She nudged his side with her foot.

Jack blinked awake from the pain, dazed. Susan cut her smile short and simply pointed to the first floor.

“The lady is waiting.”

Still rubbing his sore backside in confusion, he neatly folded the blanket and handed it back to her before heading off.

“Get enough sleep?” Calliope asked.

“Thanks to your generosity in kicking me out.”

“You always have something clever to say.”

“Quick wit is one of my many talents.”

“Silence.”

“Ma’am.”

Even Jack, playful as ever, obeyed the order to be quiet without hesitation.

Together, they boarded the carriage and departed for the Glayderth family’s art hall, where the exhibition was taking place. And sure enough, not long after they set out, delicate snowflakes began to fall.

“Come to think of it, this winter hasn’t had much snow yet…”

As the carriage arrived at the exhibition hall, one of the event staff—apparently informed in advance by the Duke of Glayderth—stepped out and welcomed Calliope with great care. He guided her through the outer displays first, politely encouraging her to view not only the works sponsored by patrons, but also those by other participating artists.

“This piece is by Jean Maglét. Its depiction of a violent storm, expressed with dark and powerful strokes, is particularly striking.”

Calliope nodded, only half-interested. Noticing her lack of enthusiasm, the staff member moved along quickly.

“This next piece is a field of flowers—rather ordinary in subject, but made valuable by its bold brushwork. Its market value has risen significantly in recent months.”

Calliope let out a soft laugh. It was a gentle smile, so the staff member assumed she liked the painting. But her next words were ice-cold.

“I can tell exactly who they were trying to imitate.”

The walls were lined with pieces blatantly mimicking Riona’s style—now backed by the Marchioness’s patronage and having risen beyond Carolie’s influence. Her popularity had reached the point where even copies of her style were being sold. One could argue she had created a trend.

Clicking softly across the floor in her heels, Calliope made her way toward the grand painting displayed at the far end, in the center. Her expression brightened.

It was a painting of a small house under a vast sunset sky, with night creeping in from behind. From afar, it radiated warmth and comfort, but up close, it told a different story.

The rough, stormy strokes of the night clashed against the soft, steady strokes of the sunset, which looked like warmth slowly fading. The house in the middle stood like a lone lamb—waiting to face the fear that came with the darkness.

“The real thing is always different. Carolie would be proud.”

Jack, who had been looking at the painting beside her, turned his head slightly and tapped her shoulder. She followed his gaze to another large canvas hanging just a few paces away—and gave a sheepish smile.

It was a portrait of herself, displayed prominently in the center of the exhibition. It seemed someone had re-painted the original portrait of her into a grander version for the show.

People who had been admiring the painting stepped back as she approached, giving her space—as if she and the painting were meant to be viewed together. Dressed like a snow goddess tonight, she was the living embodiment of the artwork.

Calliope looked up at the portrait. The contrast of a cool expression with a gentle smile made it captivating. The fact that Riona had captured this so vividly was proof of her brilliance.

As Calliope admired the painting, someone approached her quietly from the side.

“Of all the works here today, this one stood out the most to me.”

“Trying to charm me again, are you?” she replied calmly, not even turning her head.

“Duke Glayderth.”

“Come now, don’t call it that. I really meant it. I never lie—especially about art.”

“Well, you don’t need to lie. Power makes honesty easy.”

The Duke chuckled again.

“Did you look at the other paintings?”

“They were fine. None really caught my eye, though.”

“Then we share the same taste.”

“Still, the artists here aren’t without talent. With the right guidance, some might grow into the kind of painters who define a generation.”

“Is that so?”

Calliope smiled.

“Second only to Riona, of course.”

The Duke nodded in agreement.

“You’re right.”

Just then, a commotion broke out near the entrance of the exhibition hall. Both Calliope and the Duke turned to look. Someone at the front was shouting, holding up a painting.

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