Chapter 028
Sioden was not unaware of that fact.
Thus, when he heard the sound of the bride entering the ceremony hall, he did not look back. He did not want to make a foolish choice.
He felt Iella come to stand beside him. His nerves were on edge. He could hear the sound of Rowen’s distant relatives retreating, who must have brought her here.
One of the elders who had been close to him when Lerox was alive officiated the ceremony.
The old man instructed both him and Iella to recite the ancient marriage vows. When the woman promised him eternal love and trust with her clear voice, Sioden thought she was lying. Who didn’t know that what this marriage lacked most was trust and affection?
Nevertheless, he found himself unknowingly listening to the woman’s vows.
There was no other intention.
Iella had a voice that was objectively pleasant to hear, and they were close enough to hear each other’s voices well.
The elder spoke.
“Now that the vows are complete, I will ask for the kiss of promise.”
Sioden stiffly turned to the side.
The first thought that crossed his mind was that the woman was truly beautiful.
Just as he had thought in the southern tailor’s shop, Iella matched perfectly with the shimmering, rustling fabric of her dress.
Even the gaze of someone who already knew this fact was captivated at once.
Sioden realized he should have calmed his heart a little more belatedly. To offset the emotions he was feeling now, a moment of sarcasm or betrayal would not suffice. The sight of Iella in that white dress struck him intensely.
However, the order of the ceremony did not wait for him.
Sioden brought his hand to the veil that revealed his face. Her slightly more sparkling green eyes became visible.
The moment he unknowingly lowered his head, Iella closed her eyes.
When the green light that he had been staring at as if entranced went out, Sioden realized he had almost kissed her.
Why on earth?
No one expected them to kiss anyway. Even Iella had avoided him by closing her eyes.
So why was he about to do something so foolish?
His irrational self was confusing.
Before his embarrassment could show, Sioden made an excuse.
“The fabric is thin.”
It was white, rustling, and sparkling, matching her well.
“In the North, wearing something like this can lead to a fever.”
Not only Iella but even he himself was losing his judgment.
“I’ll give you something to wear after the ceremony, so please put it on.”
Having finished speaking, Sioden lowered the veil he had briefly lifted.
She was an unreliable woman.
He knew that.
Yet, despite that, he found himself thinking that he might step into one of love or trust.
When he looked ahead again, Iella spoke in a small voice.
“Thank you, but I’m fine without the outer garment. I’ll be changing clothes anyway…”
Sioden agreed with her words without making any guesses. Is that so?
Until that moment, he did not understand why Iella said she didn’t need an outer garment.
☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓 ☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓
Later, when Iella appeared in a dress for the banquet, she still revealed her neck completely.
Escorting Iella, Sioden carefully observed the jewels hanging from her neck and ears. Earlier, he hadn’t been able to check them due to her wedding dress, which suited her exceptionally well.
In the North, the most cherished jewels were worn during important events like weddings. He had heard that it wasn’t much different in the South.
Iella wore red jewels around her neck and ears. The color matched well with her dress made of deep green silk.
Before taking a seat, Iella shivered slightly. Only then did Sioden realize that he had been so preoccupied with gathering information that he had forgotten how cold she looked.
“I’ll have someone bring you an outer garment.”
Iella did not refuse twice. “Thank you,” she said in a soft voice.
Afterward, he held Iella’s hand while receiving the wedding gifts. He either couldn’t find the moment to let go or acted as if he had forgotten they were holding hands. Iella did not pull her hand away from him.
Perhaps they could have a conversation. Sioden thought this as the delivery of the gifts from Capren Rowen came to an end. The marriage had already taken place. By this point, Iella must have realized that she couldn’t return to Rowen.
So, it seemed possible to hope for improvement in the given situation.
Before he realized how hopeful his expectations were, a servant in charge of delivering the royal gifts stood before them.
The crown prince had sent a tapestry depicting a Southern wedding. It was a fabric that had originally been prepared as part of the royal dowry.
When the tapestry was unveiled, Sioden glanced down at Iella. He was curious about what expression she would have.
Iella was looking down with a rather somber face.
Knowing that this situation could not be pleasant for anyone, Sioden felt an impulse to ask her why she was feeling down.
“Lady Rowen has a different fiancé.”
Was she sad to receive something she had expected to obtain upon marrying that fiancé, now that she was holding his hand?
The crown prince he had seen in the capital had laughed like a man who knew nothing of loyalty, and his demeanor was strangely self-righteous. He had the typical handsome face of a Southern man, but that was all. There were plenty of men who looked better than the crown prince and didn’t act like fools.
Still, it seemed that Iella was thinking of the man she had left behind. If the crown prince had truly been a good man, he would have come to the North and challenged him to a duel instead of clinging pathetically like this.
A servant of the royal family spoke.
“There is one more gift from His Highness.”
Two servants stepped forward, carrying a gilded box.
Inside the box was white fur, adorned with gold buttons engraved with the royal emblem.
One of the servants recited the crown prince’s message.
“Though you are sent far away, may this always keep you warm.”
To my dearest Iella.
Those words were not mere formality.
What else had been said afterward? He couldn’t quite remember.
He probably made a sarcastic remark. When his temper was bad, sarcasm had been a habit since his childhood.
When he came to his senses, he found himself in the hallway.
Standing in the hallway decorated for the wedding, Sioden wiped his face.
It was hard to believe that he had dared to hope for a conversation with a woman who had dreamed of marrying another man.
What would change by exchanging words?
He heard footsteps behind him. Turning around, he saw Luke and Rhys approaching, clearly following him.
“Your Excellency! This is absurd! This…!”
Sioden silenced Rhys with a hand, not wanting to engage in an argument with him.
He grabbed a servant passing by with a tray and snatched the cup from it. As the warmth flowed down his throat, his rationality began to return.
All of this had been predictable.
The white fur would have suited the deep green dress better than black.
As if an outdoor wedding in the South suited Iella better than a hall in the North.
His throat burned from the alcohol. Sioden looked down. The brooch attached to his chest caught his eye. Coincidentally, it was the jewel he had given to Iella.
There were several similar ones, but Sioden was not confused.
Among the events of that night, there was nothing he could confuse.
“My name is Sioden Raslet.”
Recalling how foolishly he had grinned made something rise up inside him. Sioden roughly tore off the brooch. He grabbed another drink. Luke asked him, noticing how hastily he was drinking as if he had returned to being sixteen.
“Are you alright?”
After finishing the second drink, Sioden nodded.
He was fine.
There was no reason not to be.
☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓 ☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓
As the alcohol took effect, his heart calmed down. It was the sensation just before getting drunk.
The queasiness in his stomach gradually subsided. He realized he had left without sorting out the situation.
Before the will he had mustered from drinking faded away, Sioden went to look for Iella.
“The lady has gone to the lounge.”
When he stopped a passing servant to inquire about Iella’s whereabouts, that was the response he received.
After answering, the servant made a face that suggested he had made a mistake. Iella was no longer a Rowen; she should be called a duchess instead of a princess.
Sioden did not correct the servant’s expression, which was wary of him.
Iella must have wished to be a Rowen herself. But what was the point of him alone believing she was a Raslet?
He opened the door to the lounge where Iella had entered.
Inside, there were many people besides Iella. Sezna, Merwen, and others. Those dissatisfied with the marriage.
Sezna’s voice could be heard.
“…Come to think of it, the previous head of the family cherished the young lady very much. He must have wanted to make you his daughter-in-law…”
In front of Sezna sat a knight, a cousin of Rhys.
Frustration crept up his neck.
Why was everyone in the family so eager to link him with Merwen?
If they liked Merwen so much, they should resolve it among themselves without dragging him into it. Whether it was through marriage, adoption, or cohabitation, he wouldn’t care at all.
Not wanting to hear any more chatter, Sioden approached them.
“Enough.”
Everyone turned to look in his direction. He didn’t even want to count how many pairs of eyes were on him. The attention brought a sense of discomfort.
“…Since it has come to this, I have something to say.”
One of the knights attempted to protest. Sioden did not give him a chance.
“I meant to say, shut your mouth.”
He wanted everyone to be quiet.
It was him who had held Iella’s hand, married her, held expectations for her, and been disappointed.
Yet they acted as if they would die if they didn’t add their comments from all sides. Little did they know that listening to all of it made him want to bury them beneath a gravestone.
He looked around the room. The maid had said that Iella was somewhere in here.
True to her words, Iella was sitting in a cozy chair at the back of the room, hugging her knees. Sioden stood between her and Sezna’s group.
Iella, blocked from view, looked up at him. Knowing full well what the people had said about her moments ago, she blinked her drooping eyes.
A surge of something—whether late intoxication or pent-up frustration—rose up inside him.
