One Day, My Fiancé Brought His First Love Along - Chapter 35

“I’m sorry for causing trouble, Your Highness. My friends and I meant no harm… I also offer my sincere apologies to Lord Jeron of House Diar. Please, forgive us.”

Until Jeron had intervened, Judith seemed content to watch as her acquaintances acted on her behalf. But now, with the heir to House Diar stepping in, she had no choice but to come forward herself, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. It was unfortunate, but even Judith knew this was where it had to end.

“I haven’t been angry, and I’ve never raised my voice at you, Lady Judith. So let’s not talk of apologies or forgiveness. I’ll accept your sentiment. Please, enjoy the rest of your evening.”

Tired of Judith’s insincerity, Aileen stepped slightly in front of Jeron, shielding him from view. She needed to get away from that fake expression before she lost her composure entirely and tossed away her mask.

Leaving behind only a cold, impersonal farewell, Aileen walked past without looking back. Judith didn’t try to stop her.

Her dress was a complete mess, and she no longer had any reason or desire to stay. She had originally intended to greet Edys and say her goodbyes to her family before leaving, but all of that seemed unimportant now. More than anything, she just wanted to breathe fresh air.

Jeron followed behind her as she exited the ballroom. Only when she heard his footsteps did Aileen remember he was still there.

“Thank you for earlier, Jeron.”

“You’re welcome. Are you heading home already?”

“Yes. I’m tired. And in this dress… I don’t want to stay.”

“Would you mind if I escorted you back?”

“…I think I’d prefer to go alone right now.”

Her voice was heavy with fatigue, and Jeron nodded, hiding his disappointment.

Even just watching from the side had worn him out—how much worse must it have been for Aileen, who was at the center of it all? He couldn’t even begin to imagine how much her head must be spinning.

Honestly, he had wanted to say something from the very beginning, when those ladies had first started treating her with disrespect. But Jeron, who usually focused solely on his duties and paid little attention to the politics of noblewomen, had hesitated. He feared that stepping in might only make things harder for her.

Fortunately, stepping in when he did seemed to have been the right call. He felt somewhat relieved, knowing he had at least been of some help, and quietly turned away.

“So exhausting…”

Aileen muttered under her breath as she climbed into the carriage, rubbing her forehead. She had already asked a passing servant to inform her family that she was heading back to the estate ahead of them.

She stared blankly out the window of the rattling carriage at the dark sky above. The breeze that slipped in through the open window cooled her flushed cheeks and slowly eased the pounding in her head.

Looking down, she saw the wine-stained hem of her once-beautiful, sea-colored gown. Sera had carefully picked it out for her. Of all things, it had to be wine—deep red wine.

Without realizing it, Aileen bit her lower lip.

Why did it have to happen when she had no one on her side? And worse, it had to involve Judith.

With even Retta absent, Jeron stepping in had truly been a relief. Thanks to him, the noble ladies flaunting their status under the Hessiden name had backed off without a fight. But even so, it made things more complicated.

It might have been better if Jeron hadn’t helped at all. Now she felt too guilty to reject him outright. And with Jeron publicly taking her side, she’d likely become the subject of even more gossip—especially since everyone present had clearly sided with Judith.

A long sigh escaped Aileen as she closed her eyes.

Of all the banquets she had ever attended, this had been the most miserable.

Meanwhile, after his final dance with Judith, Carlisle had already left the ballroom, unaware of the events that had unfolded. He was too busy talking with Edys.

Among the many recent incidents in the capital, there was one that had caught their attention. At first glance, it seemed minor—people suffering from hallucinations or erratic behavior after ingesting poisonous herbs.

It was the sort of thing that happened from time to time. Easy to overlook.

“But the number of cases is increasing.”

“The total still isn’t high, but for so many to occur within such a short span is rare. It’s worth investigating.”

“Two incidents in a single week, and you’re the only one who caught it. This is why I can’t let you go, Sir Carlisle.”

Carlisle said nothing in return. Edys, unfazed, continued speaking.

“I’m certain the Marquess is involved. Those symptoms only appear when poison is used, and this all began recently. If we investigate newly circulating goods, we might trace it back to him.”

The Emperor’s expression had grown increasingly cold, sharp enough to make one flinch.

“No one without significant wealth could pull this off. And right now, the wealthiest man in the Empire is the Marquess.”

“It may not be poison. It could be power derived from the Northern tribes.”

“That’s true. Either way, there’s only one person likely to be behind this. Dig into it thoroughly.”

“Understood.”

Their conversation continued—covering recent activity among the northern tribes and the upcoming restructuring of the Imperial Knights’ training regimen. Even after the lengthy and heated exchange, Carlisle remained composed. As he stood to leave, he added one final remark.

“It’s inevitable that Khan and Rill will get mixed in. But the purge must be led by Cell. I don’t mind a tournament being held—but we must avoid any serious injuries.”

“I get it already!”

The Emperor, clearly tired of hearing it again, stood with an exaggerated huff, muttering in irritation.

“Honestly, because of you, I couldn’t even enjoy the banquet. Now tell me—how exactly do you plan on making up for that?”

“Freeing me from all those annoying matters… I’d say that’s more than enough compensation.”

“Shouldn’t you be saying that to yourself?”

Caught off guard by the jab, Carlisle pressed his lips into a firm line. The silence that followed stretched on longer than expected.

The unexpectedly cold reaction made the air drop in temperature, but Edys pretended not to notice and calmly took a few steps forward. Best to change the subject quickly.

“Seems something happened while you were away.”

The moment they entered the ballroom, Edys spotted Aileen walking off in the distance—and Jeron following close behind, like a fledgling trailing its mother bird. Muttering to himself, Edys turned back to Carlisle.

And sure enough, Carlisle was already staring blankly at the doors through which they had disappeared.

Edys clicked his tongue softly.

So that’s the kind of man Aileen is still holding on to? No… it’s because this bastard Carlisle is so good at hiding everything. He’d felt it since their academy days—Carlisle was ruthless.

Edys gave him a slight push on the back.

“Go.”

The moment the Emperor gave permission, Carlisle strode forward without hesitation. Toward the path Aileen had taken. And at the end of that path—Judith waited.

He didn’t need to be told. He could already guess what had happened. His height, taller than most, and his exceptional eyesight had already caught sight of Aileen’s pale blue gown, now darkened with wine stains.

Carlisle clenched his fists. His hands turned pale from the lack of blood flow, the image pitiful even to himself. Of all things, the last image he had of Aileen was her fleeing the hall—with Jeron right on her heels.

Like a storm building on the horizon, emotions swelled within him. And with them came the image of the annulment papers lying untouched in his room—his own guilt for the wound he had dealt her.

He had once longed for that annulment more than anything. Yet to this day, he hadn’t been able to submit the papers to the Imperial House.

Because Aileen hadn’t asked. Because, just a little longer, just a little more—he wanted to remain engaged to her.

Days had passed clinging to that selfish hope. Though he had promised himself to submit them soon, the sight he had just witnessed resurrected those dirty, self-serving desires all over again.

Yet, truthfully—though Jeron had always irritated him, today, he felt more relief than resentment. Because he didn’t know what Judith might have done to Aileen in his absence. If Jeron had helped shield Aileen, then Carlisle could live with it.

He moved forward, his long strides parting the crowd. Nobles chatting in small groups stepped aside instinctively at the expression on his face.

“Judy.”

Every time he caught himself calling Judith by that nickname—a name he’d never even dared to say to Aileen—Carlisle wanted to rip out his own tongue. If only he could stay silent forever.

“Carlisle, you’re back?”

But the moment Judith rushed into his arms with a bright smile, reality snapped back into focus.

“Why are you still here? I thought you’d be dancing.”

“Oh, come on. Why would I dance without you? It’d be so lonely.”

“Then shall we leave now?”

Pushing Judith away just enough to avoid the eyes of others, Carlisle offered her his arm. Though his expression remained cold and unreadable, he was known for rarely showing emotion. No one found it strange. In fact, some even thought his calm demeanor showed how close they truly were.

Only Judith, who knew him well, pouted slightly in mock protest.

“So soon?”

“It’s already late. You shouldn’t push yourself.”

His voice was lower than usual, more reserved. Thinking back on her antics from earlier, Judith nodded.

“What about my father?”

“I’ll have the attendant inform him.”

There was no urgency, and the Marquess wasn’t even far away. Which meant—he simply didn’t want to deal with him directly.

“Let’s go, then.”

Judith, when it came to Carlisle, was sharper than most. She immediately understood—this was a warning.

He must’ve seen Aileen storm out.

Not only had she tried to provoke Aileen during the dance, she’d also pulled that stunt with the wine. Now that they were alone, Carlisle would surely confront her—but Judith was fairly certain.

That he wouldn’t.

Not this time.

Because right now, his real instinct would be to get as far away from her as possible.

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