The marriage of Helena Winston stirred the capital’s social circles in more ways than one. The Empress, who had arranged the match, seemed determined that the hastily arranged union should succeed.

She even provided the Winston family with a substantial dowry under the guise of a wedding gift, expressing her wish for Helena’s happiness in marriage.

With the addition of the Empress’s contribution to the dowry originally provided by the Count’s family, Helena’s dowry became a truly staggering sum.

Gossips, with a touch of exaggeration, murmured that it was almost equal to the dowry of a royal princess.

The House of Bayard also seemed pleased with the outcome. Whatever the circumstances behind the scenes, the public perception was that the Empress had intervened to remove from the capital someone who had been involved in a scandalous rumour with the Crown Prince. From the point of view of the ducal family, their dignity remained intact.

Most importantly, the Crown Prince, who had been undecided for a long time, was deeply shaken by the news of Helena’s engagement and finally agreed to marry Adela.

People praised Empress Clarissa’s wisdom, saying that she had handled the royal family’s troubles with grace and that everything seemed to be working out beautifully.

The only ones left bitter were Helen’s former admirers, who had fled in fear. In particular, some of the men who had once pined for her were now branded ‘cowards who let a great catch slip away’ and ended up in disgrace.

And so Helena Winston’s wedding day, which had shaken the capital’s social circles on several fronts, drew nearer with each passing day.

***

“Don’t get married.”

Helena looked into the face of the person who said those words and whispered sweetly.

“Goodness, you’re the only one in the world who tells me not to get married, little Henry.”

“Noona! Please! Don’t get married!”

From the day little Henry found out that Helena’s marriage meant she would be going far away, he had done everything he could to hold on to her.

“Don’t get married!”

Little Henry cried out in fear and clung to the hem of Helena’s skirt.

Helena gently kneaded Henry’s soft cheeks like bread dough with both hands and asked.

“Little Henry, even though I’ve teased you so much, do you still like me?”

“Henry likes Helena Noona best!”

“What do you like about me? Be specific.”

“Huh? Spe…cific? What’s that?”

“Hmm, like when I put you on my tummy and floated you in the pond. You cried and wet yourself, but deep down you actually liked it, didn’t you?”

At Helena’s words, Henry’s adorable face, like a porcelain doll, clouded over.

“H-Henry didn’t pee.”

“You totally peed! Ehehehehe!”

Helena let out an exaggerated laugh. At that, Henry’s plump, cherry-red lips began to quiver – he was on the verge of tears.

“Henrryyy… is not a bed-wetter…”

“What if Penny finds out about this? She might say she won’t marry you.”

“Ah! Ah! Nooo!”

Henry waved his hands frantically, his face full of fear.

Helena crossed her arms and looked down at him smugly.

“Then, Henry, what have I taught you to do in times like this?”

Henry closed his tearful eyes tightly. Then he clasped his little hands together in prayer and pressed his chubby cheek up to her.

Helena leaned over and gave him a playful bite on the cheek.

“Waaah! Waaah!”

“Mmm, Henry’s delicious.”

“Aaah! Waaaah! Don’t eat me!”

And so, once again, little Henry ran off in tears, devastated.

Eliza, who had been reading a book and watching the scene, finally spoke.

“Honestly, sister. You should be nicer to Henry. You won’t be seeing him for a while.”

Helena walked over to Eliza and asked.

“What book are you reading?”

Without a word, Eliza held up the book to show the title.

“On the Problems Arising from the Right of Withdrawal in the History of Trade…? You still like reading difficult books, I see.”

“It just sounds complicated. It’s not that difficult. I’ve recently become interested in trading funds.”

Helena gently brushed aside the strands of hair scattered across Eliza’s round forehead and said.

“How did such a clever girl come from our father and mother? Eliza, you’re the pride of the Winston family.”

At these words, Eliza pressed her lips together in embarrassment.

“That’s not true. It’s useless for girls to read books. We can’t become civil servants anyway… After all, it’s the men who run the family…”

Eliza hesitated before continuing, revealing what had been on her mind.

“Uncle Flon said that a pretty girl is practically born with three medals of honour. No matter how clever I am, he said that a girl like Ira, with curly hair and fair skin, would be of more use to the family than someone like me – with glasses, stiff hair and freckles.”

“He’s not wrong.”

Helena said – then threw a pretend punch in the air.

“Not wrong to get punched for it!”

Helena was deadly serious. She threw a fist into her invisible opponent’s face, kneed him in the groin, then climbed on top of the fallen figure, jumping up and down with all her might.

Watching Helena wage a one-woman war, Eliza doubled over with laughter, clutching her stomach.

With a dramatic toss of her long hair, Helena huffed. “Phew. Anyone who talks nonsense like that deserves a good thrashing.”

Then she turned back to Eliza and said softly.

“Eliza, listen carefully. A pretty face might make it easier for a family to arrange a marriage, I’ll admit that – it’s definitely an advantage. But that’s as far as it goes.”

Helena sighed deeply.

“Do you think life ends with ‘and they lived happily ever after’, like in some thin fairy tale book? The influence of what you’re born with only lasts for a very short time. After that you have to take responsibility for your own life.”

Eliza looked as if she was struggling to understand what Helena was saying. Slowly blinking, she replied.

“…your words are harder to understand than the Book of Trade funds.”

“That’s OK. You’ll understand in time. And you don’t have to listen to anything Uncle Flon says. He’s the real triple winner – ugly, bald and fat. Who is he to interfere in other people’s lives?”

Laughing at Helena’s words, Eliza put down her book and wrapped her arms around Helena’s slender waist.

“Sis, we’ll still be able to see each other often, won’t we? I can’t cling to you like Henry does, but I don’t want you to leave the capital either. It’s just so unfair.”

“Eliza. Even though I’ve teased you so much, do you still like me?”

Eliza frowned and replied with a sniff.

“That was when we were children! If you bring that up again, I’ll get really angry.”

She sighed deeply and continued.

“Everyone keeps saying it’s for the best, but I don’t see what’s so great about it. You haven’t done anything wrong! It was Crown Prince Rufus who was the womaniser – you just happened to be there.”

Helena gave a thumbs up.

“Welcome to the world of nonsense, injustice and lack of freedom, dear sister.”

“Oh, come on!”

Helena gently patted her younger sister’s shoulder, then leaned in and whispered into her ear.

“Eliza, want me to tell you a secret?”

“What is it?”

“I’m going to become a spy.”

“…”

“This marriage has another purpose. I’m going south on the Empress’s orders, on a critical mission. I plan to uncover the secrets that Count Ishpern – my future husband – is hiding, and claim wealth and glory for myself.”

Eliza suddenly jumped up from the desk and began to flit about, trying to escape her sister’s grasp.

“I will not speak to you again.”

“Oh, why not? Is it because I’m your half-sister?”

“I never said that!”

“So it’s because I’m not your full sister…”

“Ugh, seriously!”

The two of them chased each other around the room, changing roles all the time, until they finally stopped in front of the window.

Out in the green meadow, along a path of white sand that looked like a strand of hair, a group of people were approaching the estate.

Helena spotted the crest on their cloaks and muttered.

“Ugh, why would someone make something that ugly into a family crest?”

“Why would someone make something so ugly into a family crest?”

“It’s not ugly! It’s a juniper branch with fruit – it symbolises protection. It’s the crest of the House of Ishpern.”

“The Winston family has a crest of crepe myrtle. It looks good wherever it’s embroidered – on handkerchiefs or clothes. But this one just looks like a bunch of bugs hanging from a branch, doesn’t it?”

Leaving a speechless Eliza behind, Helena threw the window wide open.

She stepped out onto the small balcony attached to the window and looked down.

Three people on horseback had just passed through the gates of the estate. One man rode ahead of the group and said something to the guards.

As the guards opened the gate, he pulled back the hood of his cloak, which bore the crest of House Ishpern.

Helena didn’t know why, but somehow she knew immediately.

It was him.

‘Benjamin Ishpern!’

As if sensing her gaze, he lifted his head and looked up.

Beneath his tousled black hair was a face so pale it was almost ghostly.

“…!”

She was too far away to see his expression clearly.

And yet Helena knew.

He was smiling.