One Day, My Fiancé Brought His First Love Along - Chapter 125

Carlisle, still composed, spoke in a steady voice, his expression calm.

“If I cared about the judgment of nobles, I never would’ve dared to want you in the first place.”

“Carlisle…”

“Would you care to dance with me?”

As the music floated in from the distance, Carlisle held out his hand, gently shifting the topic.

Aileen looked at him for a brief moment, then placed her hand in his—large, warm, and steady.

“With pleasure.”

Carlisle bowed his head and slowly pressed his lips to the back of Aileen’s pale hand. The gesture was filled with humility, almost reverence.

The two began to dance. The arm wrapped around Aileen’s waist was strong and unwavering, like a fortress. Soft melodies fluttered around them, settling quietly like falling petals.

Inside the banquet hall, all eyes were drawn to them, as though enchanted. Among those watching was Jeron.

For a time, he had hoped Aileen might one day stand beside him. But once again, it was Carlisle at her side.

He didn’t like it—the man who had once brought her to tears was now the one holding her close. But as much as he hated to admit it, the two looked undeniably right together.

Jeron suppressed the bitter smile that tugged at his lips. After watching them for a while, he quietly stepped away.

After that night, the names of Aileen and Carlisle spread even more frequently through noble society.

Even before Carlisle had been cursed, the two had been one of the most admired couples in the social world. Without even trying, they had drawn attention—especially from younger nobles, who viewed them with admiration and envy.

But now? They had exposed those who had betrayed the Empire by conspiring with the enemy. They had helped bring about peace, sacrificing themselves in the process.

And now they had found their way back to each other.

That reunion alone drew immense interest. The fact that they didn’t care what others thought only added to it. As if all the judgment they once received had been forgotten, invitations flooded the Revart estate.

With the fall of Marquess Hessiden and his faction, imperial authority had grown stronger—almost frighteningly so. And the Emperor’s closest allies were now none other than House Revart and House Avergue.

Naturally, nobles sought favor with the rising power.

But Aileen and Carlisle didn’t pay them any mind. They were focused on building a new future of peace—and on piecing together the time they had lost.

Then one day, a summons came from the Duke of Revart.

“You are in the presence of Duke and Duchess Revart.”

Carlisle, standing beside Aileen, bowed deeply before the couple seated before them.

The Duke gave a small nod and gestured for them to sit, his face unreadable.

“Thank you.”

Ashite sat quietly nearby, almost like a decoration, her eyes subtly following the flow of tension in the room.

The Duchess wore her usual serene smile, her thoughts hidden behind it. Aileen sat slightly stiff, and Carlisle remained as calm as ever.

That infuriatingly composed face, Ashite thought. She silently muttered to herself, her famously lovely lips curving ever so slightly.

“You’re here? I heard you’ve recovered. You look better than me now—your face has really cleared up, hasn’t it?”

Her teasing tone loosened the tension in the air. Carlisle nodded and answered evenly.

“I’m fully recovered. Thank you for your concern.”

“Concern? Who said I was concerned?!”

“Carlisle Avergue.”

The Duke cut Ashite off sharply. She quickly fell silent.

Aileen’s eyes turned toward her father, a flicker of worry in her gaze. But the Duke never looked away from Carlisle, who calmly met his gaze.

A moment of silence settled over the room, growing heavier by the second.

Then finally, the Duke spoke in a grave tone.

“You’ve done well.”

For a brief second, Carlisle’s face crumbled like a sandcastle in the tide—only to quickly compose itself again. The Duke didn’t miss the moment.

“Aileen has already made her decision, so I have no more to say. Your future is yours to shape, together.”

“…Thank you.”

The quiet reply caught in Carlisle’s throat.

He had expected harsh rejection. The Duke had refused to see him until now, and Carlisle had prepared himself for anger, accusations, even being thrown out.

He had accepted that all he could do was wait in silence.

He’d expected to be shouted at, cursed, driven away.

Outwardly, he had kept his composure, but a faint tremble flickered at the edge of his eyes—only to fade just as quickly.

“But that’s one thing,” the Duke added. “The fact that you once made Aileen unhappy… is something else entirely.”

“I have no excuse. I can’t deny any of it.”

“Pick her up and bring her home every day. Make sure nothing dangerous happens to her. And whenever you can, join us for dinner.”

“…Your Grace.”

“This is the punishment I’m giving you.”

Silence settled between them for a moment.

Aileen looked between the two men with teary eyes, pressing and releasing her lips in quiet tension. Carlisle kept clearing his throat as it threatened to close up. Ashite had her mouth slightly open in surprise, while the Duchess, who had been watching them all with a calm smile, finally spoke.

“Sir Carlisle.”

“Yes.”

“Would it be alright if I simply called you Carlisle?”

“Of course.”

“Well then, Carlisle… My husband and I would like to become your parents. Just like we do with Aileen and Ashite, we’ll scold you when you’re wrong, praise you when you’re right, and drag you along as our porter when we go shopping. But I hope you’ll consider it… positively.”

Carlisle’s eyes widened.

“So from now on, no more secrets. No more hiding anything from us, Carlisle.”

The corners of the Duchess’s eyes softened. Her rose-pink lips curved gently into a smile. And at that moment, a single tear slipped from Carlisle’s eye.

“Ashite just yells all the time, but having a son who cries… doesn’t seem so bad.”

That was the day Carlisle was given a second life.

It had been a week since Carlisle moved into the Revart estate.

Originally, he had planned to commute from the Avergue residence to the palace, picking Aileen up and dropping her off each day. But after the Duke of Revart pointed out how unnecessarily troublesome it was for everyone to see that over and over, Carlisle ended up relocating entirely.

At first, sharing breakfast and dinner with the Revart family had felt awkward. But thanks to their direct and unaffected ways—especially Ashite—Carlisle had quickly begun to fit in.

“In just a few days, the peace treaty will be signed, Carlisle. It’s really all over now.”

Aileen sat across from him in a small garden tucked into a quiet corner of the estate, sipping her tea with a light, relieved smile.

Carlisle quietly watched her bright expression. A gentle breeze had loosened strands of her hair, brushing her cheek. He reached up to tuck them behind her ear.

“We shouldn’t trust them completely… but things should be peaceful for a while. We won’t have to worry about being apart for days or getting seriously hurt anymore.”

Aileen leaned her face into his hand, still resting gently on her cheek.

His hand was rough, marked with old scars and hardened calluses. But the warmth that flowed from it was soft and familiar—like spring itself. It turned her skin faintly pink.

During the months they’d been apart, she’d realized just how precious something as simple as his touch had become. So now, with that warmth spreading through her chest, she closed her eyes and savored it.

“Aileen.”

His low voice brushed against her ear—and then, something familiar touched her forehead.

“Do you love me?”

As his lips traced gently over her skin, Aileen smiled softly.

“Mm. And you?”

“I do.”

Carlisle’s other hand rose to cradle her opposite cheek, and his lips slowly traveled—first to her eyelids, then down her nose, and finally, gently to her lips.

With a soft kiss, he pulled away, stopping just a fingertip’s distance from her.

Aileen opened her eyes slowly.

“Aileen.”

His gaze—darker than night and deeper than the sea—overflowed with unspoken affection. His long lashes didn’t tremble once as he poured silent love into her through his eyes.

Aileen received it all.

“Marry me.”

The moment he spoke, his black lashes fluttered faintly—his nerves betraying him.

Aileen grinned, teasing.

“Where’s the ring?”

Still holding her gaze, Carlisle slowly pulled his hand back from her cheek. She felt the loss of warmth immediately—but he reached into his coat and retrieved a small velvet box.

He opened it.

Inside, a single ring rested gently. He picked it up with trembling fingers.

“Can I… put it on you?”

Aileen pretended not to notice the way his hand shook. Her eyes softened, glowing gently. A lavender petal floated down from the breeze and landed on her hair.

“Of course.”

The oval-cut amethyst—set in a silver band, and the exact shade of Aileen’s eyes—slid gracefully onto the fourth finger of her left hand.

And when the ring finally came to a stop, Carlisle spoke again.

“Marry me, Aileen. I’ll love you for the rest of my life.”

“I accept, Carlisle.”

It was a clear, blue-skied day, as a warm breeze carried their promises into the future.

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