Chapter 20 – Sacrifice

At such formal balls, dance partners are not chosen at one’s discretion. The first dance is with one’s partner, and the second dance is usually with the highest-ranking person among acquaintances. Similarly, Ian would probably dance with Celia. I didn’t have to look directly; every time the movements changed, I could see Celia holding Ian’s hand.

“Come to think of it, I haven’t had the chance to talk to Lady Keppel alone.”

I awkwardly smiled. Cade, the original male lead, was known as a madman, making him difficult to deal with.

“I wanted to thank you for persuading Earl Hershey.”

“I am honored, Your Majesty.”

“There’s no need for such formalities between us.”

I avoided Cade’s burdensome grin. What kind of relationship did we have? None at all, right?

“That dress is very impressive today. Was there a change of heart?”

Cade seemed curious about my daring exposure. There was nothing much to it, so I spoke honestly.

“It was designed by Her Highness, Princess Ophelia, your sister. She seems very interested in dress design. She insisted that I wear it.”

“I see. I thought you were trying something new to provoke Ian.”

I unintentionally frowned, feeling a sting of pride. Ah, facial control, facial control. I tried to force a smile again, but Cade attacked without giving me a chance.

“It doesn’t seem very effective. Do you think Ian will fall for that? Why not just take the initiative yourself?”

What the hell is this madman saying? Should I accidentally step on his foot? Would it be too obvious if I kicked his shin? As I pondered how to retaliate, Cade kept rambling.

“I guarantee Ian likes assertive women. Once the deed is done, it’ll be the other way around, with him clinging to you.”

“……”

“I’m serious. Ian has a trauma and is afraid to express affection first.”

Cade must really dislike Ian’s affection for Celia. I tried to ignore his nonsense, but the mention of Ian having a trauma started to bother me. Was he talking about his poor relationship with his mother?

In the original story, Ian had never attempted any physical contact with Celia. I thought it was out of respect, knowing Celia couldn’t forget Cade. Hearing a different perspective made it seem plausible.

Could he be afraid of women because of his cold upbringing by his mother? If so, his oddly fastidious behavior made sense. Then, what about the other day when he asked if he could touch me in the study?

Come to think of it, since we brought up divorce, he’s been escorting me even when no one else is around. Is he feeling sorry now that we’re about to part ways? I sighed, feeling confused, and Cade sighed as well.

“Or instead of smiling like a painting, try crying your heart out. It’s frustrating watching you two make no progress. You’re both just a step away, but neither of you can take it. I thought you’d definitely cry at least once seeing Ian with Isabella.”

That remark made me tear up unintentionally, and my true feelings slipped out.

“He wouldn’t care if I cried.”

“He’d care a lot. Trust me, just try crying once.”

Finally, the second dance ended. I felt relieved that the dance with the Emperor was over. Thanks to Cade’s unfiltered words, I felt mentally exhausted.

With a typical gentleman, it was customary for him to escort the lady back to her seat after a dance, but the Emperor was different. The lady was to curtsy before the Emperor’s throne and then step back. Since the Empress’s seat was beside the Emperor, I couldn’t help but see Ian holding Celia’s hand.

“Go tell him you’re jealous.”

Cade whispered in my ear. I didn’t respond. As soon as Cade sat on the throne, I curtsied and stepped back. Glancing back, I saw Ian talking to Celia even after seating her. I turned away.

Jealousy? That’s nonsense. How could I be jealous when I knew from my past life that Ian loved the heroine, Celia?

It was like telling someone to complain about snow in winter. Snow in winter is natural. It can be inconvenient when it falls heavily, but complaining about something inevitable is a waste of emotion. Yet, I didn’t realize that I was stubbornly turning away, refusing to look at Ian.

I had crossed about halfway across the floor to return to my seat when a scream pierced the air. Though I had never heard this high-pitched scream before, I immediately knew it was Celia’s voice.

The sound of something falling and breaking was followed by expressions of shock on the faces of those around me. Suddenly, it was as if the world had slowed down. People seemed to be screaming as they ran toward the ballroom doors, but I couldn’t hear them. I turned around slowly.

I used to wonder why the heroines in movies didn’t run in situations like this, but now I understood. It felt utterly surreal. The first thing I saw was Ian fighting without a weapon to protect Empress Celia. Then, there was Emperor Cade drawing the longsword he wore alone and the assassins disguised as the orchestra members.

I stood there blankly, like a spectator at a play, watching everything unfold. Looking around slowly, I saw nobles clamoring to escape through a single door. I thought it might be better to hide than to run, but I unconsciously followed Ian with my eyes.

It was an unexpected ambush, but the Emperor and Ian were strong. The Emperor’s sword took the lives of two assassins, and Ian, without a weapon, quickly took down one and was confronting another.

It was strange. More assassins seemed to be focused on Cade, but their objective seemed to be to impede him rather than kill him, while Ian, or rather Celia who Ian was protecting, was being attacked with lethal intent.

The guards stationed in the ballroom quickly joined the fray, and it looked like the situation would soon be under control. Yet, time still seemed to move slowly.

A foreboding feeling gripped me. I could hear my heart thudding slowly in my ears. I saw one of the fallen assassins pulling out a hidden dagger.

I wanted to scream and alert everyone, but no sound came out when I opened my mouth. The dagger flew straight toward Celia. And in that instant, someone stepped in front of her.

It was the handkerchief I had tied myself. We had pretended to get along today, matching it with the color of my dress. It slowly started to turn red.

Even in that moment, Ian defeated the last assassin and slowly sank to his knees. As Celia caught the falling Ian and laid him down on the floor, I saw the guards restraining the surviving assassins. And before I knew it, I was kneeling in front of Ian.

I knelt slowly by his side. Ian was still conscious. I tried to lift the corners of my mouth to reassure him.

But inside, I had no confidence. Could I do it? I had never treated such a severe wound before. Yet my hands moved without hesitation, pulling the dagger from his chest. I didn’t want to know the sickening feeling of the blade catching on his ribs. Ian just stared at me silently as I drew the knife out.

It was strange. Despite Celia being right there, he was looking at me. With this much blood loss, he must be thinking he’s going to die. Anger surged within me.

You liar. Not dangerous, huh? In the end, my nightmare became reality.

If Ian dies, I’ll be driven out by the secondary branch of the Keppel family because I have no children. This time, our kind mother-in-law, who lost her son, will be thrown out too. The business she managed was under Ian’s name, so it will be scattered to the winds. Then I’ll have to support my mother and mother-in-law by myself. How am I supposed to do that alone…?

Do I have to remarry and go through this wretched cycle again? This time, it will be even more humiliating than when I married Ian. I’ll be older, childless, and suspected of being barren.

Just thinking about it made me want to die. I missed my father. As long as he was alive, I had nothing to worry about. But after he died, I became a nobody. I was lucky to catch the eye of my mother-in-law and become the Duchess of Keppel, but if Ian dies, that will be the end of it. All my efforts to gain recognition in the Keppel family would be in vain.

It would be better for me to die. I prayed earnestly to the god who let me be reborn in this world with memories of my past life. There are many verses about sacrifice in the scriptures, but only one came to mind now. May he not be hurt by my death.

“My death is not a testament to my love, but to my selfishness…”