One Day, My Fiancé Brought His First Love Along - Chapter 55

What on earth was he about to say?

Carlisle wasn’t the type of man who went out of his way to approach people at a banquet. In fact, it was such a rare sight that those who secretly admired his strength or striking appearance had always just hoped he’d glance their way first.

And yet, here he was, taking the initiative to summon others. Judging by who he had called, it was clearly an official matter—but that didn’t stop the knights’ hearts from beating a little faster.

No, maybe they were hoping to avoid it altogether. Why bring up work at a banquet of all places? Had it been anyone else, they might’ve groaned in irritation.

A brief silence filled with a hint of tension passed between them. Carlisle slowly surveyed the four knights before finally opening his mouth.

“Joint training will be suspended for the next two days.”

“…Pardon?”

“Also, beginning on the third day, the training sessions will be cut to half their original length.”

The sudden announcement threw the four knights into confusion, exchanging glances as they tried to make sense of it.

“I should’ve informed you earlier, but the decision was made late. I ask for your understanding.”

His tone was flat, his expression unchanged. He hadn’t even furrowed his brows, yet the pressure emanating from him kept the others from immediately voicing their questions.

“May I ask why the training hours are being reduced so suddenly?”

It was Aileen who finally stepped forward. Carlisle’s calm gaze moved to her.

“Is it because of concerns over fatigue from the tournament? I was under the impression that the other knights participating are continuing their usual training schedules.”

The other knights nodded slightly in agreement with her words.

Carlisle listened silently until she finished. Then, his low voice cut through the surrounding noise and reached each of them with weight and clarity.

“It is your duty to take what you’ve learned from joint training and pass it on to your own Orders. Compared to the other knights, you train longer and are responsible for instructing others. That leaves you with less physical stamina, mental space, and personal time.”

“…”

“If you believe you can endure it, I have no objection to continuing as before. However, I don’t want to hear complaints that the fairness of the tournament was compromised because of it.”

Though his tone was as even as always, there was an unmistakable firmness behind his words.

The four knights fell into a heavy silence. Even Aileen, who had raised the question, gave no further response. It made sense.

Carlisle scanned their faces one more time, and after confirming that no one objected, he added,

“If any of you change your mind later, say so. I’ll provide additional training anytime.”

The knights’ eyes lit up.

This wasn’t a bad outcome at all. They’d conserve their energy, and if needed, could still request extra instruction directly from Carlisle.

“Understood!”

What had initially felt like an unpleasant summons—being gathered at a banquet just to talk about training—was now received with visible relief and enthusiasm. Some had nearly pursed their lips in frustration just moments earlier, but now, they answered brightly and in unison.

The brief storm passed.

Now that things had settled, Aileen finally took in Carlisle’s appearance. His black hair, partially swept back with some strands falling over his forehead, was darker than midnight. His formal black uniform for the Sel Knights, perhaps chosen to reflect the tone of the evening, was neatly pressed without a single wrinkle, hugging his frame with precision.

There was a hint of shadow under his eyes, but anyone would look like that when tired.

Her gaze wasn’t even out of interest—just a passing glance. The kind she gave to anyone. Aileen turned her attention elsewhere.

And Carlisle felt it.

He felt her gaze land on him, then drift away again—cleanly, without hesitation, without the slightest trace of sentiment.

Carlisle swallowed the rising emotion. Instead of drowning in it again, he simply looked at her. At Aileen, who was now smiling like a flower blooming toward Setar.

Her light pink hair, which had always been tied up high for training, now fell freely over her shoulders, unbound and graceful.

Only a few months ago, this had been a familiar sight, something he saw every day. But now, if not for a rare occasion like this banquet, it was something he could only see in dreams—or in passing thoughts.

“I think I heard that Sir Setar avoids balls because of how terribly he dances.”

“That’s a misunderstanding, Aileen.”

“Sir Tanil, Ashite’s over there. Would you like to go say hello together?”

“Me? Uh, no—I mean, thank you for the offer, but I’m all right!”

“Hahaha.”

Her laughter rang in Carlisle’s ears, vivid and bright, echoing endlessly. Watching her so freely chatting with others made him feel strangely relieved. And yet, at the same time, there was a deep, growing void—something hollow, like sand crumbling through his fingers, boring a hole straight through his chest.

Who Aileen talked to no longer concerned him. He had to look away. No—he must.

The shackles he had forged with his own hands were now tightening mercilessly around his limbs. And in the world Aileen would soon walk into, there would be no place for him.

He knew in his head that if he was no longer by her side, someone else should be there to bring Aileen happiness. And yet—there were still moments when he simply couldn’t endure it.

Today was one of those moments.

He reminded himself, again and again, that he should not stand in her way. He knew he ought to bless her path forward, but the smile on Aileen’s face was filled with visible discomfort—far from something that could be celebrated.

And so, he overstepped. Even knowing that both he and Jeron were little more than nuisances in her eyes, he couldn’t leave her to anyone else.

He had pulled Aileen away from Jeron and even brought her to the colleagues she felt most comfortable around. Perhaps that would help wash away at least some of the discomfort caused by the unexpected appearance of her former fiancé.

The goal had been met. Now was the time for the unwelcome guest to excuse himself. Yet his feet wouldn’t move.

He understood—those knights were nothing more than comrades to Aileen. And yet, those clear eyes, those violet irises, that radiant face, those red lips he alone once knew… the painful clarity that none of it belonged to him anymore gripped him with unbearable weight.

Carlisle stood there, taking in the image of the four laughing together. Then he turned, quietly.

He had heard Aileen’s voice more than he deserved today. He had seen her—truly seen her—for the first time in so long. That was enough. That should be enough.

“Ah—are you leaving, Captain Carlisle?”

Tanil’s voice caught him just as he was turning away. Carlisle only responded with a short nod, his head tilting halfway in acknowledgment.

Aileen, who had noticed his departure before anyone else, returned the gesture with a polite, silent bow—nothing more. Then she turned away.

Carlisle had poured all of his awareness into Aileen. And as she slipped from his grasp like the wind—so near, yet unreachable—it tore open a wound in his heart… and oddly, brought a sense of relief as well.

It was a contradiction. And yet, it was true.

He shifted his focus away from her—and toward his new fiancée.

“Carlisle.”

“Judy.”

Her gaze shimmered with affection, yet carried a sharp undercurrent.

Her crimson eyes burned with anger and resentment, but Carlisle responded only by using her nickname—as though to end the conversation before it began.

“Oh, Sir Carlisle, you’re here. In that case, we’ll take our leave.”

“I should get going too—I’ve arranged to meet with my fiancé.”

The moment the nickname “Judy” left Carlisle’s mouth, the noblewomen who had been standing by Judith’s side began excusing themselves one by one, slipping away as if they’d been waiting for the chance.

Just as he’d hoped. He no longer wanted to remain in that uncomfortable space. That was why he had made the effort to call her by that name.

Carlisle was known not only for his strength, but also for his striking appearance. Yet ironically, his ethereal beauty—said to be among the top three in the Empire—was often offset by his sharp eyes and the chilly, imposing aura he carried. It made people hesitate to approach, unsure of how to handle the overwhelming pressure that surrounded him.

And now that Carlisle had used a nickname—openly, in front of others.

Once the nobles had all cleared away, Judith finally looked up at him. Her eyes, fierce and cutting, brimmed with dissatisfaction.

“So that’s where you disappeared to? Your former fiancée? Everyone knows I’m here with you. Do you have any idea how that makes me look?”

To the others nearby, it probably just looked like she was murmuring sweet nothings to her fiancé. Her faint smile didn’t match the sharp words coming from her lips.

“There was something I needed to inform her about. Regarding the Order.”

Carlisle’s tone remained unchanged. Neither lowered nor raised, his calm voice carried enough clarity that anyone eavesdropping nearby could likely guess the gist.

Judith bit the soft flesh inside her cheek.

“Fine. If it was work, then I suppose I can’t argue. But as you well know, there are eyes everywhere here, Carlisle. Next time, try to be a little more considerate. If there’s a next time.”

“I’ll do that.”

His response was short and steady, his expression unchanged. The ease with which he accepted her demand—so unlike him—took Judith by surprise and left her silent for a moment.

But soon enough, she regained her composure.

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