One Day, My Fiancé Brought His First Love Along - Chapter 53

Episode 53

“They both looked like they’d just bitten into something sour. As Vice-Captain, I couldn’t just walk past. I didn’t overstep, did I?”

“Not at all. I’m actually really grateful.”

Aileen firmly shook her head, denying it with a serious look. Beside her, Tanil nodded in full agreement.

“But Vice-Captain, don’t you know that guy?”

Aileen asked, recalling how the man’s eyebrows had shot up in surprise the moment Siran approached. For just a fleeting second, his expression had seemed genuinely pleased to see him.

Though Siran had grown up close to the Revart siblings, he was always a hard man to read. Aileen wondered if perhaps the two had crossed paths in some gambling den or tavern—knowing Siran, it wasn’t impossible.

“Ah, we’ve just exchanged names. Barely acquaintances.”

“He looked like he wanted to act familiar.”

“It’s fine. That’s why I only looked at Tanil.”

Ah, so that was why.

Both Aileen and Tanil shared a brief, awkward laugh, finally understanding why Siran had so deliberately fixed his gaze on Tanil alone.

“Still, even with the preliminaries tomorrow, you came to the banquet?”

Siran turned to Tanil, sounding more amused than reproachful.

“Well, since it’s a banquet in our honor… I thought I should come.”

“So, what—you’re saying you’re confident you’ll breeze through tomorrow’s match even after staying out late?”

“No, I never said anything like that.”

“Eh, same difference.”

Siran grinned slyly, clearly enjoying himself, while poor Tanil fumbled under the teasing. Watching them, Aileen slipped between the two like a breeze when music began to play.

“Enough teasing. Why don’t you two go dance?”

“It’s already time for that?”

“Oh, then… I’ll just be over there. I’m not exactly on good terms with dancing.”

Tanil stepped back stiffly, like a knight preparing for battle.

“Sure, go hang out with the others. Or make a new friend or two.”

Waving lazily with one hand, Siran turned back to Aileen with a soft smile and held out his hand.

“May I have this dance, Lady Aileen Revart?”

“Gladly.”

With practiced ease, Siran escorted Aileen toward the center of the ballroom. As expected from someone with his natural charisma and wide circle of acquaintances, his dancing was as smooth as ever.

As Aileen twirled and returned to his arms, Siran met her gaze with half-lowered eyelids and a faint, teasing smile.

“We used to dance like this a lot, didn’t we?”

“We did. Especially when we were younger.”

“Must’ve been… what, eight years?”

His offhand comment made Aileen freeze for the briefest second. She quickly composed her face. Was he doing this on purpose?

“I remember it being more than ten, actually.”

She laced her words with an intentional chill, and Siran responded with his usual disarming smile, the corners of his mouth curling up playfully.

“Oh dear. Did I upset you, Lady Revart?”

“Vice-Captain Siran.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll stop.”

I only said it because I thought you were finally okay now.

His quiet, weightless voice lingered beneath the light words. Aileen pressed her lips together, then released them.

“You haven’t changed. Still the same reckless prankster.”

“Well, it’s not every day I get to dance and joke this close to Lady Aileen Revart. You’ve been so impossible to talk to these days.”

Despite herself, Aileen let out a breath of a laugh.

They’d worked together in the same Order long enough that the awkwardness between them had long since faded. Thanks to Siran’s ever-friendly nature, the sense of distance had all but vanished.

This was who Siran had always been. Playful. Smooth. Just a little too much.

He was someone who got along with everyone, yet always seemed to keep an invisible wall around himself.
There were plenty of people around him, but very few he was actually close with. Aside from Ashite—perhaps no one else.

At least, as far as Aileen knew.

Sometimes, he pushed the boundaries with his jokes. But strangely, when he did, they never quite crossed the line.
Even now, she didn’t feel angry—just faintly exasperated.

“I’m glad you joined the Order. I’ve been watching you since you enlisted—you really are a born knight.”

As he spoke, Siran twirled her out and gently pulled her back into his arms.

“Looks like the song’s already over.”

“Oh no, that flew by. Being with Lady Revart must warp time. Shall we go again?”

With a mischievous glint in his eye, Siran raised their joined hands slightly, asking with an exaggerated flair.

Aileen opened her mouth to reply, but before she could speak—

“Would you give me this next dance, Aileen?”

A familiar, faintly trembling voice—low and soft—cut in.

There, just a few steps away, stood Jeron. His pale blue eyes stared directly into hers.

“…Jeron.”

His ears were red, and sweat clung to his temples like beads of dew. He must’ve hurried over.

“I didn’t know you were here. If I had, I would’ve asked you to dance the moment I arrived…”

His voice trailed off, tinged with regret.

And then—

“Good to see you, Lord Diar.”

A faint blend of awkwardness and tension hung in the air. It was Siran who gently slipped into the space between the two, his presence smooth and natural.

Only then did Jeron’s head whip around—as if he had just now noticed him.

“Ah… Sir Siran. My apologies. I must’ve been too eager… I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

Realizing how he’d behaved—as if no one else but Aileen existed—Jeron fumbled through his apology. The red creeping up his neck betrayed his embarrassment.

“It’s fine. Our Aileen here is always so popular—it’s expected, really.”

“Vice-Captain.”

“Well then, I’ll take my leave now. Make sure not to stay too long and get plenty of rest before tomorrow’s preliminaries, Aileen.”

“Understood.”

Aileen wished Siran wouldn’t leave her alone just yet, but unfortunately, her silent hope went unheard.

He gave a small wave and disappeared into the crowd. And just like that, Jeron took his place, standing a little too close—right in front of her.

“…Aileen. When did you get here? I didn’t know you were coming.”

It sounded like a light complaint, tinged with a subtle trace of hurt.

She had said she probably wouldn’t attend. He’d believed her. But then he saw her—already dancing, already smiling at someone else. The sight had struck him harder than he expected.

The way she spoke as she danced, smiling as if completely at ease—it told him everything about how close she must be to her partner. And Jeron, who always felt Aileen kept him at a distance, couldn’t help but feel the sting of envy.

He tried to hide it, but his words gave him away.

“…I’m not blaming you or anything. I just mean… if I’d known, I would’ve come over right away to greet you. That’s all.”

He waved his hands slightly in an attempt to smooth things over. But once your heart falls into a pit, it’s not so easy to climb back out.

Seeing Aileen smiling so warmly at Siran had left him feeling… hollow. As if a gaping hole had opened in his chest, filling with cold wind.

In truth, he was nothing to her. He’d already been rejected once. And yet here he was, asking—pleading—for a chance to be seen.

After losing so completely in front of Carlisle, Jeron had reflected deeply. He’d come to the conclusion that maybe he had pushed too fast, too hard.

He was good at analyzing the past. Maybe Aileen had only pulled away because he had overwhelmed her.

That’s why he hadn’t planned to ask her for a dance tonight.

“But at least I get to see you now. That’s enough.”

Aileen offered a faint smile.

Jeron’s heart sank.

“Did I upset you…?”

“No, not at all. Honestly, I was only planning to dance once and then leave. I’ve got some things to discuss with my fellow knights about tomorrow’s matches, and then I’ll head out.”

“Ah… I see.”

Her words left Jeron momentarily stunned. She didn’t offer any elaboration either—deliberately so. Any warmth, any hint of closeness beyond this, would only mislead him. And hurt him.

Aileen was thankful to Jeron for liking her, and equally sorry. Hurting him like this made her heart ache too—but it was the right thing to do.

“…Then, would it be alright if we talked a little? Just for a bit?”

His eyes looked desperate. Aileen hesitated, then gave a small nod.

“I haven’t been able to visit lately. You seemed busy, Aileen.”

“I was. Training intensified and preparing for the tournament kept me running. Even if you had come, I probably wouldn’t have had time to see you.”

They walked past the dancers and toward a quieter corner. An awkward silence settled between them.

“Would you like some wine?”

“I’ll pass. I’ve got the tournament tomorrow. I’m skipping drinks for now.”

“Ah… that was careless of me…”

“It’s fine.”

Jeron licked his lips nervously, eyes darting slightly.

“How long will you be staying tonight?”

“Hmm… not too late, I think. I need to rest for tomorrow. I’m confident, but still.”

She let out a light laugh.

Jeron liked that sound. There was something strong and clear about it—like her. Proud and graceful, but with a soft vulnerability.

“Aileen, would it be alright… if I came to watch the tournament?”

“…The matches are open to anyone with a ticket. I can’t get you one personally, but…”

“I won’t come unless you give me permission.”

“…”

“I don’t want to be a burden to you.”

The last words were quiet—almost heartbreaking.

Aileen looked at him—head bowed, expression resolute—and felt a knot form in her chest.

Did he not realize that asking this way only made it heavier for her?

The best way to put an end to it would be to say no.
But she couldn’t bring herself to say it outright.

She turned her head away, evading his steady, sky-blue gaze—buying herself a moment to think.

And then—

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