It wasn’t until after Chris and Vernon had left that Aneta finally opened the gift she had received.

She found a hairpiece when she opened the box and the case inside.

The piece was crafted from gold, shaped into stems and leaves, and adorned with marquise-cut diamonds and pearls.

Aneta gazed at the design, the long, curved leaves layered in overlapping patterns.

The white diamonds symbolized nobility, constancy, and eternal love. Without any words, the giver’s intentions were clear.

Running her fingertips gently over the surface, Aneta thought of wearing Chris’s gift at her wedding. Her touch was careful, as if handling something precious.

“Aneta, I’m back.”

At that moment, Carlos returned from his outing.

He greeted her as he stepped inside but stopped short when his eyes fell on the object she was holding.

“What’s that?”

He couldn’t see what lay inside the case from where he stood.

Aneta set the hairpiece on the table and replied casually.

“It’s a gift from Chris. I told her to use the money I returned to do something she wanted, but it looked like she spent it all buying me a present. Honestly, she’s impossible.”

Though her words sounded exasperated, the smile spreading across her face betrayed her true feelings.

“That’s a problem,” Carlos murmured, standing close to her and watching her with unwavering eyes.

“What is?”

“It’s a wonderful thing, of course, that you’re loved and trusted by so many people, but… I keep getting jealous.”

“You’re jealous of Chris?”

“Haven’t I told you? Chris Deven is my greatest rival.”

In some ways, he’s even more threatening than Serce Raphaeli, Carlos thought to himself, though he left that part unsaid.

“You’re way too soft when it comes to her,” he continued, his tone bordering on a playful complaint.

“Don’t worry. I’m soft when it comes to you too.”

“…You’re impossible.”

Carlos cleared his throat and turned his head slightly, avoiding her gaze.

Her matter-of-fact response, spoken so calmly, had caught him off guard. Somehow, he found himself too flustered to meet her eyes.

“That sounds familiar. You don’t even plan on winning, do you?”

“That’s true,” Carlos admitted without resistance, still avoiding her eyes.

Seeing him like this, Aneta decided to say something she knew he couldn’t ignore.

“Come to think of it, there’s someone else you might be jealous of.”

“What do you mean by that?”

As expected, Carlos reacted immediately, snapping his head around to meet her gaze as if he’d never looked away. His eyes demanded an explanation.

“There’s one more gift,” she said.

“Who gave you something else?”

“I haven’t received it yet, but Serce offered to make my wedding dress.”

“Viscount Raphaeli?”

“Yes. He said he’d do it as a friend, and I couldn’t keep refusing, so I agreed.”

At her confirmation, Carlos fell silent, deep in thought.

He didn’t believe for a second that Aneta, after rejecting Serce’s confession, would walk down the aisle wearing a dress he made without mentioning it to him first.

Once he understood that, it became clear that Serce’s gesture was a way of letting her go. After all, he had chosen to gift her a wedding dress—something imbued with symbolic meaning.

Though Carlos wasn’t particularly thrilled, he kept his feelings to himself. It was the least he could do to show respect for Serce.

“I’ve prepared a gift for you, too,” Carlos said, recalling the item he’d set aside earlier.

“You have?”

Aneta’s eyes widened in surprise, and her heart swelled with warmth. Lately, she had never felt more loved by those closest to her.

“I’ll go get it. Wait here for a moment,” Carlos said, heading toward his desk.

From under his chair, he retrieved a hidden item. Walking back, he handed her a box.

“Here it is.”

“Can I open it now?”

“Go ahead.”

Aneta carefully untied the ribbon wrapped around the box.

The smooth texture of the ribbon lingered on her fingertips as she lifted the lid to reveal the contents—a glistening white satin fabric.

Standing nearby, Carlos swallowed nervously, unable to hide his tension.

Under the fabric, the box’s contents were still hidden, but Aneta could tell what it was from its shape alone.

A pair of golden wedding shoes was revealed when she reached out and pulled back the fabric.

The shoes, crafted from gold-threaded lace wrapped around the foot, featured open toes and elaborate embellishments across the instep.

However, the true beauty of the shoes lay not in the front but in the back. The delicate vine-like decorations winding up the slender golden heels were so intricate that they left her breathless.

“Do you like them?”

“Yes, more than anything I’ve ever seen,” Aneta replied sincerely.

“Good. I was worried you wouldn’t like them,” Carlos admitted, finally releasing a relieved breath.

He then kneeled on one knee in front of her without hesitation.

Lowering himself naturally, he reached for her ankle. His rough hands easily encircled the slender curve, and Aneta frozen slightly at the sudden action. But it was only momentary, and she didn’t stop him as he removed her shoes.

After neatly setting her old shoes aside, Carlos took one of the wedding shoes from the box resting on her lap.

Every step of the process—removing her old shoe, sliding on the new one—was done with the utmost care, as if he were handling something fragile.

The shoe fit perfectly. Carlos gazed at the golden shoe gleaming on her pale instep with a look of satisfaction.

More accurately, he was beyond satisfied, but he skillfully hid the intensity of his emotions.

“They say if you give shoes to a lover, they’ll run away,” Aneta remarked playfully, lightly tapping the floor with her foot. She had no idea where the superstition came from, but it seemed amusing.

To her surprise, Carlos remained calm and composed, unfazed by her words.

“Then you must also know this saying: ‘A good pair of shoes will take you to good places.’ These shoes will surely bring you to me. After all, no one can make you happier than I can.”

“Confident, aren’t you?”

“If I weren’t, I wouldn’t dare think of staying by your side,” Carlos said firmly.

He ran his fingers lightly over her exposed toes as if every inch of her deserved admiration and affection.

“I’ll give you my all, every moment, and show you the sincerity of my heart. Then, there’s no way you’ll ever leave my side wearing those shoes.”

Finally, he lowered his head and kissed softly on her foot.

Lowering himself completely, he whispered his vow, as if making a solemn pledge.

“I love you, Aneta. Even if my breath were to stop, my love for you would never end.”

***

The long-awaited day had finally arrived.

With only a few attendants accompanying her, Aneta arrived at the ducal mansion early in the morning. Standing before a mirror, she gazed at herself clad in her wedding dress.

Her worries proved unfounded—the dress made by Sercé, the hairpiece from Chris, and the wedding shoes from Carlos harmonized effortlessly as if they had been intentionally coordinated.

While Aneta wondered if the three gift-givers had secretly conspired together, Isabel stood behind her, silently dabbing at her tears.

Aneta wanted to embrace Isabel, who struggled to hold back her tears, but the older woman refused, citing concerns about ruining the dress.

“You look stunning, My Lady,” Isabel said, clutching her tear-stained handkerchief tightly.

“As always, I can’t help but wonder when you grew up enough to be standing here, ready to marry.”

Her voice cracked with emotion, and she seemed on the verge of breaking down again.

Aneta and Carlos’s reunion overjoyed Isabel; she also couldn’t help but worry about her, like a parent fretting over their child. The source of her emotions was no mystery to Aneta.

She could tell Isabel was thinking of her younger self—the little girl who had struggled to adapt to the world.

“Isabel,” Aneta said softly.

“I’m almost twenty-six now. I’ve been through so much and grown stronger because of it; I’m no longer that lost little girl. You don’t have to worry so much anymore.”

She didn’t expect Isabel to forget the past completely. She only wanted to ease her worries, even if just a little.

But Isabel shook her head.

“My head knows that, but my heart says something else. Even if the day comes when you’re a mother yourself or much older than you are now, you’ll always be the child who needs my care. At least to me. Until the day I close my eyes for the last time.”

Though her eyes glistened with tears, Isabel’s gaze was unwavering and clear as she continued.

“So please don’t ask me not to worry. Worrying for you and sharing in your joys—that’s the last joy left in my life. Even you, My Lady, cannot take that away from me.”

Not all parents have maternal or paternal instincts, and not all such bonds are limited to biological children. Isabel cherished Aneta more than herself and had cared for her as if she were her own child.

Aneta knew this better than anyone.

In the end, she chose not to say anything more. Instead, she stepped forward and enveloped Isabel in a gentle embrace.

The woman who had once seemed so large and motherly now fit comfortably in her arms.
Yet to Aneta, Isabel remained a vast, profound presence—like an ocean, deep and infinite.

‘How could I ever repay such kindness?’

Aneta’s emotions swelled, and her eyes reddened. Seeing this, Isabel lifted her wrinkled hand and gently caressed Aneta’s cheek.

“I will shed enough tears for both of us, so please, My Lady, do not cry. This is a joyous day, after all.”

Isabel reassured her, saying that only happiness would fill her life from now on. Her gentle urging to smile left Aneta with no choice but to hold back her tears.

Time passed as they lingered in the moment, and soon it was time for the ceremony.

A maid of the ducal household came to inform them but hesitated at the doorway, unsure if she should enter. Isabel gave Aneta a reassuring push on the back.

“It’s time for you to go now. His Grace, the Duke, must be waiting for you. He is your happiness, so go to him, hold him tightly with both hands, and never let him go again.”

At Isabel’s heartfelt words, Aneta nodded and took her first steps toward the waiting maid.

Just as she was about to enter the door, she paused briefly. Turning her head slightly, she left behind a parting word of gratitude before walking away.

“I’ll be back.”