One Day, My Fiancé Brought His First Love Along - Chapter 38

The four knights flinched and stood up straight in unison.

“You should be keeping time whether I’m present or not.”

Carlisle’s deep, slate-blue eyes drifted slowly over each of their faces.

“Then we’ll extend today’s session by however much time you lost.”

His voice was low and indifferent, almost dispassionate. Though the knights quietly felt it was unfair, none of them were foolish enough to argue out loud.

Except for one.

“We’ve always taken breaks flexibly. I assumed this time would be no different. Isn’t it customary to resume training when you arrive, Commander?”

The cheerful woman who had just been laughing with her fellow knights now faced him with a calm, expressionless face. Aileen’s voice was firm and unwavering.

“You didn’t say otherwise, so I didn’t realize we were breaking any rules. If you set a clear schedule going forward, I’ll follow it, whether you’re here or not.”

It was a direct challenge—one that not a single other knight dared to voice. The other three looked between Aileen and Carlisle with wide, anxious eyes.

Everyone knew about the complicated past between the two. Carlisle, hailed as the strongest Commander the Sel Order had ever known—brilliant, disciplined, and utterly flawless—was admired by knights across the Empire. And Aileen, the Empire’s only princess, once shared a relationship with him that had drawn attention from every corner of society.

After a scandal, it had even taken a direct order from Emperor Edys to place Aileen within the knight order. With stakes and history like that, the other knights had been careful to keep quiet, avoiding any awkward situations between the two.

For days, they’d watched them closely—but noticed no tension, no spark. Aileen hadn’t spoken a single word to him. Nothing at all. If anything, her silence was icy.

And now, suddenly, this.

“Do the rest of you agree with her?”

Carlisle’s question was directed to the others.

Technically, Aileen was right. Break times had never been consistent. Carlisle’s word each day dictated their schedule. And since no one had ever been punished for going slightly over, they had assumed it was fine.

Still, he was the Empire’s top knight. That alone was enough to keep their mouths shut.

“…”

No one responded.

Carlisle’s gaze returned to Aileen.

“I assumed you understood that break time wasn’t for idle chatter.”

Those words hit them all like a slap.

They thought back—until now, breaks had been spent in silence or light murmurs. No one had laughed or joked the way they had today. This had been different. And Carlisle had noticed.

Maybe he thought they couldn’t recover their strength if they were talking too much.

“If you could provide a clear schedule from now on, we’ll avoid further confusion.”

While the others were reeling, Aileen remained calm. She didn’t argue; she simply restated her point.

Carlisle held her gaze. It was the first time since training began that she had spoken to him.

Anyone else might have written it off as a formal request. But in this space, in that moment, it felt like more.

“…Very well.”

The last time they had exchanged words had been at Madame Kiroé’s boutique. Since then, Aileen had treated him like air. The fact that she had even said this much held meaning for Carlisle.

He wanted to hear her voice again, to hold onto it just a little longer—but he knew better. He knew this was where her boundary lay.

He could only accept it.

And with that, the scolding ended.

Thanks to Aileen, things didn’t escalate further. Still, the training session was extended by the exact amount of time they’d spent talking.

It was hardly a real punishment, but the knights still groaned dramatically.

“Man, he’s sharp.”

“He’s like the ice under a frozen river. Our own commander’s already cold as an icicle, but this guy? He’s the whole riverbed.”

“At least he didn’t make us run laps or something.”

As the men sighed and exchanged exaggerated complaints, Aileen smiled silently to herself. Then Setar chimed in.

“I’ve got to admit, Aileen—I didn’t expect you to be so bold. Speaking up to the commander like that? That takes guts.”

He was the first to say what everyone else was thinking. His grin was light, his tone free of malice.

“I just didn’t want to sit there feeling wronged.”

Aileen replied with a teasing smile. Far from being troubled, she was actually thankful that Setar had brought it up.

Perhaps he had done it on purpose—Setar laughed openly, as if confirming her suspicion.

No matter how unpleasant things had been between her and Carlisle, that was their personal history. This was the battlefield, where lives were at stake. Drawing strict lines over something personal wouldn’t help anyone out here.

Setar had intentionally broken the ice—setting the tone so that others could speak freely around Aileen and Carlisle without walking on eggshells.

“Aileen, next time Commander Cylas acts up, please step in again for us. I don’t have the guts,” he said with a dramatic sigh.

“Agreed,” another knight chimed in. “Though to be honest… can I speak freely? I was grateful you stood up for us, but I’m not entirely sure the commander was completely in the wrong this time. I was so nervous I could barely breathe.”

He quickly raised both hands as if to say, Not blaming you, I swear.

Aileen accepted it without taking offense. He was right—she had been a little too on edge.

She was exhausted. And constantly facing Carlisle was mentally draining. Even though he was emotionally unreadable, there were moments—brief, flickering—when something in his gaze made her feel unsettled, like the sting of a hangnail catching again and again.

It had built up. Today, it simply burst.

Acknowledging her overreaction, Aileen silently promised herself not to let it happen again. Carlisle’s eyes held no emotion—and if she let herself fall apart under that indifference, she’d only look foolish.

But staying composed around him wasn’t easy. Every time she saw his steady face, flashes of the past—of him standing beside Judith—came back uninvited.

“Drink.”

Especially when he acted like this.

“I’m fine.”

She glanced briefly at the cold water bottle he held out toward her, then declined without hesitation. But even after several seconds, it remained where it was—still, unmoving.

“I’ll drink on my own. You don’t have to worry.”

“If you don’t hydrate properly, you could collapse. That would inconvenience the order.”

His voice was sharp, but Aileen replied in a level tone, unshaken.

“I know my limits. I’ll take care of myself. You don’t have to worry about me being a burden.”

Her words were more pointed this time, and finally, Carlisle pulled the bottle back. Aileen turned her gaze away, staring at nothing in particular as if the whole exchange hadn’t happened.

Step. Step.

Carlisle walked away. He approached a knight from the Lil Order who had visibly struggled during the recent combat drill. Without hesitation, he offered the same bottle of water.

The knight took it with an eager grin and drank in big gulps.

So he really was just handing it out to those who looked worn down…
That knight had been pushing his limits, sure. But Aileen had kept pace the whole time. She was breathing a little harder, maybe—but not struggling.

And yet… why did this still feel off?

Something important was lurking behind the fog, just out of reach. She couldn’t quite see it, but she sensed it—something that wanted to be noticed. Before she could dwell on it further, Carlisle’s voice rang out.

“I’ll explain how to counteract enemy sorcery.”

It was the voice of the knight commander—not the man she had once known. Calm, detached, and utterly commanding.

Aileen realized… even when she had been with the Sel Order before, she’d never really heard him speak this way. His tone now was colder than she remembered. Or perhaps she’d simply forgotten what it sounded like when he wasn’t speaking to her as her Carlisle.

She forced away the thoughts before they could root deeper.

“Sweetheart.”

It was around the time the three of them—excluding Ashite, who was still away on assignment—were finishing off their roast duck stew at dinner.

Duke Revart spoke gently.

“Yes?” Aileen looked up.

“…I heard something today. Apparently, your annulment papers haven’t been submitted yet.”

His hesitation was uncharacteristic—but there was a reason.

When Aileen first handed the annulment letter to Carlisle, her family had quietly waited, checking in almost daily at first—especially the Duke, who kept asking whether a response had come.

But when they noticed how her expression darkened each time, they had stopped asking.

Afraid to reopen a wound, none of them had followed up. They’d left it alone, assuming things would resolve themselves.

But just that afternoon, someone had brought up the matter directly to the Duke—and he discovered the two were still technically engaged.

The moment he returned home, he told the Duchess. After a long, serious discussion, they had decided to confirm it directly with Aileen.

Fortunately, Aileen had been doing well lately—more like her old self since joining the order. Outwardly, at least, she seemed completely recovered. That gave them the courage to bring this up.

“I thought it was done. I thought giving him the letter meant it was over. But your father was told today that nothing’s been filed yet.”

Only now did Aileen remember.
She had forgotten.

He never submitted it…

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