Chapter 40
“—And that’s how he left.”
Daisy’s voice trembled with excitement as she finished her story.
Surely, after hearing such a touching tale, her lady would react with pure delight.
However, when she glanced at Diana’s expression, she found it unexpectedly indifferent.
“Are you not happy, my lady…?”
“Of course I am. I’m just… a little shy.”
Diana smiled faintly, and only then did Daisy breathe a sigh of relief, her own face breaking into a bright grin.
Yes, I’m happy. At the very least, I’ve found an escape route.
Ersivan had no reason to lie to others, which meant he must have some level of genuine regard for her.
That was good. It brought her a sense of relief.
Yet, for some reason, it wasn’t as gratifying as she had imagined.
It almost felt as if she had gained an opportunity at the cost of his misfortune.
After finishing a simple meal of soup and bread, Diana found herself searching for something to do.
Having spent the past two months closely observing her mistress, Daisy had developed an uncanny ability to predict her needs.
Thus, she quickly appeared with a variety of options.
“Are you not planning to attend today’s banquet?”
“Resting doesn’t sound like a bad idea.”
Satisfied after her meal, Diana absently patted her now slightly rounded stomach and glanced over the things Daisy had brought.
Books on various topics, drawing materials, embroidery kits—everything looked dull enough to make her yawn.
Of course, when one was alone, entertainment tended to be quite limited.
Sifting through the small stack of books, she picked up the one that seemed the least boring and began reading.
Her fingers idly flipped to the first page of a magic textbook titled “Beginner’s Guide to Magic.”
A photograph of the author, along with a lengthy foreword, filled the opening page.
“I, Cardel, entered the Mage Tower before reaching adulthood, and within ten years, I formed a contract with a god, becoming a Grand Mage.”
The author wasted no time boasting about his achievements. Even the prominently printed portrait beside the text radiated an air of self-importance.
What started as casual reading soon piqued her interest.
Although the author seemed obsessed with flaunting his magical talents, what Diana found most enviable was his skill in rhetoric.
By the time she reached the fifth chapter, her focus was sharper than ever.
Then, a voice interrupted her.
“My lady, you have a visitor.”
A visitor?
That was an unexpected presence for such a solitary afternoon.
Her plans to indulge in intellectual pursuits would have to be postponed until the evening.
Diana marked her place with a bookmark before rising from her seat.
“Ah, I’m glad to see you. I noticed you weren’t attending the banquet today.”
Epel Cordelia.
As the tent’s flap was drawn back, an unexpected figure stood before her.
So unexpected, in fact, that she hadn’t even considered her among the dozen or so potential visitors that had crossed her mind.
“I wished to see you, but… was this an inconvenience?”
The way Epel tucked a strand of her violet hair behind her ear was effortlessly graceful.
“Not at all. Rather, I should thank you for visiting. The wind is strong—please, come inside.”
Maintaining a polite smile, Diana welcomed her inside.
But the moment Epel’s gaze was elsewhere, her expression hardened.
Had she known it was Epel, she would have simply pretended to be out.
Not asking Daisy about the visitor beforehand had been a grave mistake.
“I’ve felt uneasy ever since I treated you so harshly. And now, seeing that you aren’t attending today’s banquet, I grew even more concerned.”
The first thing Epel did upon sitting at the table was offer an unprompted apology.
“If punishment is required, let it befall my family. I will accept whatever consequences are due.”
Ah.
So this was about the minor commotion that had occurred before she left last night.
Truthfully, Diana had been so distracted that Epel had barely crossed her mind.
She had completely forgotten about the incident—until now.
“It’s fine. I didn’t take it to heart. I understand how you must have felt.”
As Daisy returned with tea, she poured them each a cup before quietly setting the teapot in the center of the table.
Diana gave a slight nod, signaling that she was free to leave.
After exchanging a polite bow, Daisy exited, leaving the tent notably quieter.
Epel, who had taken a delicate sip of tea, was the first to break the silence.
“I heard about yesterday.”
Diana met her gaze evenly. “About what?”
“That you ventured into the forest where the knights were stationed.”
Thanks to Epel’s bluntness, it was easy to grasp the situation.
Word had spread quickly. Considering the Valencia knights were not the only ones stationed at the camp, it was inevitable.
“So, all the other justifications were just formal excuses—the real reason she’s here is something else.”
Of course, there was no way she had come solely to apologize.
She had likely spent the evening at the banquet, listening to gossip about Diana, and had grown curious enough to investigate for herself.
Her original plan to finish the tea quickly and send Epel on her way was now ruined.
“Yes. Since you already know, I must admit it’s rather embarrassing.”
There was no point in lying to someone who already knew the truth.
Feigning shyness, Diana covered her lips with her hand and nodded.
“That’s not the only thing that must have been embarrassing. Did you manage to confess your love properly?”
So, Epel had even heard about her so-called declaration of affection.
“Well… I conveyed my sincerity, so I’m satisfied.”
Diana recalled an old lesson—if there’s a topic you don’t want to discuss, be vague.
She followed that advice exactly.
Epel shot her a look of pure frustration.
She was itching to pry further but refrained, knowing it would be impolite. At the same time, changing the subject now would only leave her burning with curiosity.
“Lady Mernard, may I speak candidly?”
“Go ahead.”
“It’s a rather unfortunate truth, but the Duke is not someone capable of love.”
At first, Diana thought Epel was just being nosy, poking at her personal affairs. But no—she was being careful to maintain a semblance of courtesy.
Even so, the statement was more than enough to irk her.
“Lady Cordelia, forgive me, but I fail to understand your meaning.”
“His Grace neither has the time nor the intention to love anyone.”
Despite giving Diana a chance to reconsider, Epel refused to retract her claim.
No matter how much of a political arrangement their engagement might have been, Lillian Mernard was still the Duke’s fiancée.
Even if there was no love between them, openly discussing it like this was an insult.
“I’m curious, my lady. What makes you so certain? At least from what I’ve observed, His Highness is far warmer than you suggest.”
“Lady Mernard, I have watched him for a long time—far longer than you have.”
“Time does not necessarily equate to better judgment. Just because you’ve known him longer does not mean you know him better.”
“Oh my, have you never heard of the wisdom that comes with experience?”
“And have you never heard that disregarding experience in favor of prejudice is foolish?”
Diana knew exactly why Epel was acting this way.
Because she had once loved Ersivan.
Because, when she had confessed, she had been rejected without hesitation.
And now, she was drawing an invisible line, telling Diana, if even I wasn’t good enough, how could someone like you possibly be?
“Lady Mernard, don’t mistake your delusions for truth.”
“Delusions?”
Diana had no real desire to provoke Epel.
After all, it was Lillian who would eventually fall in love with Ersivan. It would be Lillian who would later stand as Epel’s rival.
There was no need for her to start a fight with Epel now.
“As a cherished only daughter, you’ve been loved all your life. Perhaps that’s why you assume love is a given. But outside the safety of your family, the world is not so kind.”
But sometimes, the body moved before reason could stop it.
Diana had intended to ignore Epel’s words, but something in her rebelled against the idea.
“It is often said that children inherit the legacy of their parents. If you’re implying that I’ve lived a life of love and privilege, then yes—I know how precious love is. That’s precisely why I wish to share it.”
Lillian would have said something like this.
In the novel, she had expressed a similar sentiment.
Diana aligned herself completely with Lillian’s role, standing in her place and speaking as she would have.
It was a bitter truth.
But for the first time, she was grateful to be Lillian.
If she weren’t, she would have had no reason—no justification—to speak on Ersivan’s behalf.
“I believe you may be misunderstanding something, my lady. I do not seek to be loved by His Highness. I do not defend him out of fear that he won’t love me back. I only wish to say—”
Her throat felt dry.
She paused to take a sip of tea, the brief silence strangely thick with tension.
“His Highness is someone worthy of love. Because he is someone worthy of respect.”
One day, Epel would see it for herself.
She would witness how deeply Ersivan and Lillian became entangled.
She would see what love looked like when it was both given and received.
And only then would she understand just how beautiful it could be.
