“It’s already been decided, Lady Tanesia. His Majesty will be attending my wedding.”

“My goodness! So the rumors were true?”

Isabel’s face turned pale in an instant.

Yelodia was saying that the Emperor himself was overseeing her marriage. This was something a mere baroness had no right to interfere with, nor should she.

“What on earth could be so wrong with you that you have to endure such humiliation? I cherished you like a delicate gem that would shatter if dropped, ever since you were sickly as a child.”

Isabel took out a handkerchief and wiped away her tears, though she might secretly have been feeling quite satisfied.

With her head bowed into her handkerchief, the baroness looked noble and heartbroken.

Yelodia silently counted to five before speaking.

“I’m fine, so please don’t worry about me.”

“How can you say you’re fine! I heard that man had a fiancée before. How unworthy must he be for his fiancée to leave him?”

Yelodia’s eyes widened for a moment, then she nodded to herself in agreement.

She had almost forgotten, but she vaguely remembered Kias mentioning something like that.

‘A broken engagement… Was there an issue with his fiancée?’

Yelodia blinked, recalling the always calm and composed man.

A faint, sharp feeling pricked at her chest, but it soon vanished as if it had never been there.

“Enough. I need to go speak to my brother right now…”

“Father has already left the estate.”

“Already?”

“His Majesty summoned him. He likely won’t return until late evening.”

“Oh dear… My brother truly cares about nothing but His Majesty.”

A flash of admiration and envy crossed Isabel’s eyes.

Though a distant relative, Isabel, a mere baroness, could never dare to challenge Duke Xavier, one of the empire’s most prominent nobles.

And Yelodia, Duke Xavier’s only daughter, was a beloved figure both in society and in the Emperor’s eyes.

Hearing that Yelodia would marry a soldier with a baronial title must have felt like sweet relief, given how eagerly she had arrived early in the morning.

“To think you’ll be marrying such a coarse, uncultured man. You would have been better off accepting Theodore’s proposal.”

Clara, who had been silent until now, spoke up haughtily.

Theodore Kesley was Isabel’s nephew.

As she thought of Theodore, a man as greedy and ambitious as Isabel herself, Yelodia felt a surge of irritation.

“Zeppelin.”

“You called for me, my lady.”

At Yelodia’s call, the butler approached, bowing as if he had been waiting.

In a cool tone, Yelodia spoke.

“I think I have a headache. I should rest in my room. Could you see Lady Tanesia and her daughter out on my behalf?”

“Yes, my lady. I’ll escort them personally.”

The butler responded politely yet firmly.

Zeppelin, like Yelodia, had little tolerance for Isabel’s behavior, as she constantly tried to meddle in the household affairs in the absence of a lady of the house, exploiting her distant relation to the duke.

“I’m sorry I can’t see you off myself.”

At Yelodia’s words, which were as good as a dismissal, Isabel’s face flushed with embarrassment.

“Yelodia, are you feeling unwell?”

“With so many things to worry about lately, I think I may have caught a slight cold. I’d hate to pass it on to you both.”

Unable to argue further, Isabel couldn’t linger any longer.

As the Emperor’s niece and Duke Xavier’s only daughter, Yelodia had been frail since childhood, a source of endless concern for her father.

Should she fall ill after Isabel’s visit, Isabel would likely face severe disapproval from the duke’s family.

Feigning concern, Isabel rose to her feet.

“Get plenty of rest. I must have been a burden to someone already going through a lot.”

“Please take care. I hope you have a pleasant day.”

“We’ll meet again soon.”

With reluctant expressions, Isabel and Clara slowly left the drawing room.

Once the two women were out of sight, Yelodia sprang to her feet and walked in the opposite direction.

She quickened her pace, not wanting to imagine the look of low satisfaction that might have crept onto Isabel’s face.

Opening the terrace doors, she felt a refreshing breeze graze her forehead and saw the garden of geraniums in full bloom.

Yelodia took a deep breath.

“The baron doesn’t even compare to someone like Theodore.”

She nearly shouted that at Clara but held herself back.

Somehow, she felt childish and immature for thinking this way.

At the same time, she felt a sudden desire to see Edward’s calm smile.

“My lady, where would you like to have lunch?”

It was Martha. Without turning, Yelodia replied.

“I’d like to eat on the terrace on the second floor.”

“Yes, I’ll make the arrangements.”

Yelodia glanced at Martha as she turned away, then asked.

“The tailor was supposed to come today, right?”

“Lady Sona? Um… she’s scheduled to arrive at 2 p.m.”

“Contact the atelier. Let them know I’ll go there myself.”

“Yes, I’ll do that.”

“And…”

Yelodia hesitated for a moment, then approached the shelf and picked up a card held down by a blue glass paperweight.

Handing the card to Martha, Yelodia said, “Could you deliver this card to Baron Adrian?”

“…Yes, I will.”

Martha carefully took the card Yelodia handed her. Rather than turning away immediately, she looked at Yelodia with concern.

“Won’t the duke be upset?”

“As long as you keep it quiet, no one will know.”

“I’ll handle it as discreetly as possible.”

Martha replied promptly. Having cared for Yelodia since childhood, Martha knew her young lady’s true feelings.

The two shared a secretive smile, as if they had just forged a bond over a private matter.

＊ ＊ ＊

Entering the office, Beyhern held a quaint card in his hand.

The pure white card, decorated with delicate hawthorn flower patterns, was sealed with red wax.

It even seemed to carry a light fragrance, as Beyhern sniffed at the card a few times.

Edward couldn’t help but comment on his aide’s eager display.

“What’s that?”

“A card addressed to you, Vice Admiral.”

Beyhern respectfully handed the card to Edward.

“To me? Who’s it from?”

“A messenger from Duke Xavier’s estate just delivered it.”

Upon hearing this, Edward quickly searched for a letter opener and broke the seal on the card. A subtle floral scent wafted out as he opened it.

After carefully reading the contents, Edward’s brow rose at an angle.

“…”

As Edward continued to stare intently at the card, Beyhern asked, “Is it something urgent?”

“Ah… No.”

Edward wore a troubled expression, sighed, and then slipped the card between two thick tactical books.

With a curious smile, Beyhern looked at him and asked casually, “A love letter, perhaps?”

“Stop saying pointless things, Lieutenant.”

“If it’s not a love letter, why are you storing it so carefully? Usually, you’d burn or toss cards like that the moment you read them.”

“Stop meddling in others’ affairs and bring me a well-written report instead.”

Edward picked up his dress jacket and stood up from his seat.

Beyhern’s lips curled into a mischievous smile at his superior’s slightly flustered manner.

“Shall I prepare some flowers for you?”

“Please! Watch your mouth. I’ll be stepping out briefly, so if I’m not back by the end of the day, feel free to leave.”

“You might want to tidy your hair first. I know a soldier who’s good at that sort of thing; should I call him over?”

“One of these days, that mouth of yours is going to get you into big trouble.”

With this warning that sounded almost like a prophecy, Edward threw open the door and disappeared.

Beyhern scratched the back of his head and chuckled.

Seeing Edward, normally so calm and composed, in such a flustered state was both unfamiliar and amusing.

Beyhern had served under the seemingly stoic Edward for five years. In all that time, Edward had never shown any interest in women, nor had he ever tucked a card with a floral scent between the pages of a book.

“A woman, of all things. It’s a miracle he didn’t become one with his strategy books.”

Beyhern felt both pride and a hint of disappointment at serving an unusually level-headed superior who was lenient with his subordinates.

Those feelings surfaced mostly when Edward acted as though he knew nothing of life’s joys.

Though he wasn’t a saint, Edward could be so uptight and unimaginative that Beyhern often wanted to pester him into experiencing a bit of romance, as most people did.

“My master has finally shown himself.”

Eager to share this memorable experience with his colleagues, Beyhern threw himself into drafting the report with great enthusiasm.