One Day, My Fiancé Brought His First Love Along - Chapter 33

“Let’s go our separate ways for now.”

Carlisle withdrew his hand from Judith’s waist—though to be precise, it had never truly touched her. The distance between them had remained intact throughout their entire dance.

“You’re unbelievable, Carlisle.”

“Wasn’t this something we agreed to from the start?”

His voice was quiet, his face expressionless. Judith fell silent at his cold response.

She had known—of course she had known—that his head was filled with nothing but thoughts of Aileen. But she hadn’t expected him to be this indifferent. As he turned and walked away without a second glance, Judith’s resentment toward Aileen flared even hotter.

Left behind, Judith clenched and released her fists before marching off to find her friends, forcing a smile as if nothing had happened.

Meanwhile, Carlisle headed toward the emperor. There were pressing matters concerning the northern tribes that required a private discussion.

From across the ballroom, Marquess Hessiden watched the two of them—his daughter and Carlisle—with the narrowed, calculating gaze of a serpent. When the emperor and Carlisle exited the hall, Hessiden’s eyes followed them briefly before shifting back to the noble in front of him.

“Off already, are they?”

Count Petter stroked his thin mustache with a knowing expression.

“No doubt to discuss the northern tribes.”

“As if it will change anything,” Hessiden replied with a faint, contemptuous smile. His crimson eyes—identical to Judith’s—dimmed to a dangerous hue.

“The new leader of the tribes is young. That makes him harder to manipulate… but also easier to provoke.”

“…”

“He still thinks youthful blood can conquer everything. But what if Santinu is only biding his time? Hiding his claws?”

“…”

“He’s barely settled into his role. Trying to control the entire northern alliance can’t be easy. Just a bit more time, and he’ll be right where we want him.”

Marquess Hessiden gripped his wine glass a little tighter.

“Shall I send the pigeon?” Count Petter asked cautiously.

“No. Not yet. The best moment to strike is when they feel safest.”

Hessiden’s light brown hair, slicked back tightly, glinted under the chandelier’s light—appearing almost golden in hue.

Count Petter knew better than anyone just how cold and merciless the marquess could be. Santinu had roughly one year left in his term as the head of the northern tribal alliance. Before that title passed on to a new chieftain, Hessiden would stop at nothing to secure what he wanted.

Petter himself was a man of oversized ambition and undersized courage. His family had been slowly sinking for generations. He longed to restore its former dignity—and repay the humiliations he had endured over the years.

In that regard, Marquess Hessiden was a model of success—a man who had clawed his way out of obscurity and into power. So Petter had seized the rope Hessiden offered him, trusting that this alliance would lead him upward too.

As he glanced at the marquess’s unmoving, unreadable expression, Count Petter swallowed dryly, silently praying he had made the right choice.

“By the way, how’s your second son?”

“Haller? That boy’s seething at Lady Aileen. And frankly, so am I.”

The count clenched his jaw, unable to suppress the rising anger.

When he’d heard what had transpired between Haller and Aileen, he’d been dumbfounded. Humiliated. That his son had been bested so disgracefully—and by someone from House Revart, no less—was beyond infuriating.

Marquess Hessiden’s gaze swept coldly over Petter. What the count didn’t realize was that the look held a flicker of disappointment. Disdain, even.

The disgrace of Count Petter’s household reflected poorly on Hessiden, who had been using them as loyal pawns. After receiving reports about the incident, the marquess had already moved Count Petter’s metaphorical chess piece off the board—and Haller’s even further down.

“What a shame. The young lady of House Revart must be quite exceptional. Let’s hope Haller recovers and grows stronger from the experience.”

“…Thank you, Marquess.”

Petter, who had been full of bluster just moments before, now responded meekly—like a balloon slowly deflating.

Whatever Petter felt, Hessiden had already turned his attention elsewhere—to his beloved second daughter.

Judith, now finished with her dance, stood among the young noblewomen from other houses, laughing brightly. Seeing her smile, the tension in the marquess’s face softened slightly.

She was the only child left behind by the woman he had once loved more than life itself.

A woman now long gone.

Because he’d never been able to make her his wife, the guilt of those years still haunted him. And everything he hadn’t been able to give to her, he gave instead to Judith.

Since she was a child, he had granted her every wish. No matter what mistakes she made, he had forgiven her. No matter the cost.

She was his treasure.

And he would not let anyone take her lightly.

However, even the Marquess couldn’t keep his composure when Judith confessed she was pregnant and asked for his permission to marry Carlisle.

He recalled that moment now as he looked at Judith with calm, solemn eyes. If you’re truly happy…

Meanwhile, Aileen quietly followed Jeron’s lead as he guided her away from the center of the ballroom. He brought her to a balcony—a perfect place for a private conversation, away from curious eyes.

For a split second, Aileen hesitated, wondering if it was right to be alone with him. But she quickly brushed off the thought. It was a silly concern.

“The night’s grown cold. The breeze has a bite to it. If you wear this, it might help.”

Jeron took off the coat he’d been wearing and handed it to her. Aileen was about to refuse, but she realized it would be ruder to decline his kind gesture. So, she accepted it quietly and draped it over her shoulders. Her chilled body instantly warmed.

“Aileen.”

Leaning gently against the balcony railing, he softly called her name. Aileen felt it right then—this was the moment. Tonight was the night she had to give him an answer.

“How was your evening?”

“Thanks to you, I enjoyed it.”

“I’m glad. To be honest, I worried that I might’ve forced you to dance with me out of my own selfish desire.”

He looked slightly nervous, but Aileen shook her head. When she told him she had a good time, Jeron’s face lit up with relief. Seeing that, Aileen made up her mind. She couldn’t drag this out any longer. She needed to let him go. He didn’t deserve to be left hoping.

“Jeron.”

“Yes, I’m listening.”

“There’s something I’ve always wanted to ask. What is it about me that makes you care so much? I know you gave me an answer once before, but… it still didn’t feel enough.”

A kind heart that couldn’t overlook someone in trouble. Gentle consideration for others. A strength he didn’t have.

Those were the things he’d said when he claimed it was love at first sight—but they felt vague. Looking back on his words and actions, Aileen couldn’t help but feel that he had built an idealized version of her in his mind.

As if she were someone strong enough to overcome anything. Someone who never struggled. Someone unbreakable. But she wasn’t that person.

Jeron’s admiration was flattering, yes—but it always came with a quiet pressure.

Maybe he sensed how she felt, because after a short silence, he looked at her with quiet determination and began to speak.

“When we first met, I was struggling to retrieve an important document that had gotten stuck in a tree. I couldn’t reach it, and I didn’t know what to do. You found me then and got it down for me. I guess… you don’t remember.”

He gave a faint, bitter smile and continued.

“That document was critical. I needed it for a meeting, and without it, I was panicking. I was sweating so much I felt like I’d faint. No one was around to help—no one except you.”

“…”

“You didn’t hesitate. You approached the tree I was too afraid to climb, swung your sword once, then pulled out a dagger and threw it. Just like that, the document was back in my hands. What had been such a struggle for me, you solved with two quick movements. I’d only known you as a knight, so seeing you use a dagger like that… it left an impression.”

As she listened, the memory started to come back to Aileen—faint but familiar. That’s right. That did happen.

But it had been such a small gesture. Anyone could’ve helped.

“I fell for you then. I’d already heard people praise your beauty, but that was the first time I saw your strength with my own eyes. I was born weak and frail, and because of that, I always let people down. I could never live up to the expectations that came with my appearance. I admired strength. Falling for you felt natural.”

It was as if he had seen right through her doubts. Jeron’s eyes grew deeper, his voice steadier.

“When I put together all the things I’d heard about you and what I saw for myself, I believed you were someone who wouldn’t be shaken, no matter what happened. Someone who would never break. You seemed like the perfect match for someone like me—weak and uncertain.”

“…”

“And that day, you didn’t wait for me to ask for help. You came up to me and simply asked, ‘Do you need help?’ How could I not fall for someone like that?”

His words trailed off like a quiet question. Aileen couldn’t bring herself to answer. Jeron smiled faintly, a touch of self-mockery in his expression.

“I think I know what you’re going to say. But… I’m not ready to hear it. And if you’re thinking that I’m being used, or that you’re just toying with me… please don’t. I know the truth, and I’m still the one holding on.”

“…”

“So please… Could you give me just a little more time?”

His voice trembled with sincerity. Aileen closed her lips into a firm line.

Her instincts had been right all along. Jeron had fallen for her strength—the image of her as someone who would never falter. To him, that meant they were a good match. But that also meant he held expectations… ones he placed squarely on her shoulders.

But she wasn’t that strong. And that kind of expectation didn’t make her happy. It weighed her down. He said she was kind—but in that moment, anyone else would’ve done the same.

Jeron was a good man. But the way he loved, the hopes he held—those didn’t align with the person she truly was.

Aileen stood in silence for a long time. The hush between them deepened. The sound of chirping insects seemed to grow louder with every passing second. And at last, she came to her decision.

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