The bridal waiting room was filled with an array of flowers of every color and variety.

Dressed in a white wedding gown, the bride appeared even more radiant than the lavishly adorned room. Surrounded by the thick, almost overwhelming fragrance of blossom, she took a slow, careful breath, trying to steady her racing heart. She followed the breathing technique that had been recommended to her for calming a tense body, but no matter how deeply she inhaled or how slowly she exhaled, she could not shake off the tension in her limbs.

The faint murmur of voices drifting in from beyond the door heightened her senses. Unable to see what awaited her outside, her anxiety only deepened, tightening around her chest.

Eight months ago, Isabel had been involved in a carriage accident.

The coachman died on the spot.

She survived only because a village apothecary who was climbing the mountain at dawn to gather medicinal herbs happened to discover her battered body amongst the wreckage.

But the true ordeal began after that.

A month later, when Isabel finally regained consciousness, she had lost her memory and her voice. Aside from her nickname, Bel, most of her past had vanished. The trauma had left her stammering over her words and transformed the once bright, lively girl into a withdrawn and timid person.

But her misfortune did not end there.

When she opened her eyes, she could see nothing.

It was as though the entire world had been painted black. Whether her eyes were open or closed, all she could see was darkness. During the accident, shards of shattered glass had pierced her eyes, leaving her blind.

Amnesia and aphasia, however, could be treated with time and patience. Slowly, Isabel began to regain fragments of her memories — of herself and her family. Although she still stumbled over her words, she was no longer completely silent as she had been before.

But her sight was different.

Unlike memory or speech, it did not return.

The most renowned physicians were summoned one after another, but they all gave the same unyielding verdict: her vision could not be restored. For Isabel, a bride-to-be, this news came as a bolt from the blue.

News of her accident spread swiftly through the capital. Along with it came whispers that her engagement would certainly be broken off.

She was a woman from an insignificant family. A woman burdened with a disability. A woman deemed to have no worth as a bride. “What sensible man,” they murmured, “would willingly marry a blind woman who stammers when she speaks?”

Yet, defying all expectations, Damian proved that his love had not faltered.

He married Isabel and made her the Grand Duchess. Though many urged him to reconsider, insisting that a man of his standing could easily find someone more suitable, his resolve never wavered.

He worked patiently to win back the heart of the woman who no longer remembered him. Despite having every reason to become disheartened, he never stopped sending her gifts, each one filled with quiet devotion.

What woman could remain untouched by such steadfast devotion from a man blessed with both brilliance and striking beauty?

Little by little, Isabel opened her guarded heart to him.

And at last, their wedding took place without incident.

“……”

Isabel blinked softly. Behind the white veil, a pair of ash-grey eyes appeared and then disappeared again. The beautiful emerald irises she had once had had been replaced by dull, cloudy grey.

“Isabel.”

A low, dignified voice called out to her from the direction of the front. Isabel turned her head towards the sound. At some point, Baron Logan Ester had entered the room and was now looking at her.

Noticing her slightly misaligned gaze, Baron Logan spoke.

“I trust you haven’t forgotten what I told you.”

“……Yes. Of course.”

Smile brightly.

Don’t stammer.

Never take off the necklace.

And whatever you do, don’t show your face to the Grand Duke.

“We are fully prepared.”

Upon hearing the maid’s words, Isabel gripped the hem of her dress and then slowly released it. She was about to become the Grand Duchess. She had to appear composed.

Taking Baron Logan Ester’s hand, she walked forward, matching her steps to his measured pace. When he stopped, she stopped too. As soon as he released her hand, it was taken by another warm touch.

“Please make my daughter happy.”

As he spoke, the gentleness of Baron Logan’s voice sent a chill creeping down Isabel’s spine. She fought the urge to rub the back of her neck.

After Logan returned to his seat, Isabel and Damian stood before the officiant who was to conduct the ceremony.

The officiant’s dark brown eyes, deep and lined with years of experience, lowered to the paper with the prepared speech. Then he began to speak. Like most wedding speeches, it was long and solemn, stretching on in measured, ceremonial tones.

During that calm, uneventful period, Isabel alone stood trembling with tension.

Although her world remained steeped in darkness, she could feel Damian’s gaze fixed upon her. The thick, finely woven veil concealed her face, yet she felt as though his sharp eyes could pierce it with ease.

The weight of his stare made her want to turn her head away. But with so many eyes upon her, she did not dare. Instead, she bit her lower lip and prayed silently for time to pass more quickly and for the moment to end.

“You may now exchange rings.”

The end of the wedding ceremony was finally in sight.

Isabel moved her hands cautiously, feeling her way forward. Despite having practiced countless times, her slender fingertips trembled faintly with tension as she brushed against the ring case.

“Ah.”

She gasped briefly the moment she picked up the ring. Perhaps she was too nervous. The ring slipped from her grasp.

A small murmur rippled through the hall. The darkness that had filled her mind turned to blankness in an instant. As Isabel hurriedly bent her knees, trying to kneel and search for the fallen ring, Damian was a step faster.

“I’ll take care of it.”

With those words, he retrieved the ring himself. It dropped gently into her small palm. Isabel murmured her thanks quietly. Had it not been for him, she would have had to drag her dress across the floor while awkwardly crawling around looking for it.

As though to reassure her, Damian lightly brushed the back of her hand with his fingers.

“It’s all right, Isabel. There’s no need to be tense.”

His voice, so close to her, was incredibly gentle and warm. The instant she heard it, the tightness in her chest eased as if by magic. Thanks to this, she was finally able to slip the ring onto Damian’s fourth finger without fumbling.

The moment the rings were exchanged, celebratory fireworks exploded, as though they had been waiting for that exact moment. Applause roared through the hall, but to Isabel it sounded muffled and distant.

Her thoughts were already far away.

Lowering her head slightly, she absentmindedly rubbed her fingers together. The place where his fingers had brushed hers still tingled in an almost ticklish way. Beneath her veil, her ears flushed a soft red.

The magnificent ceremony soon gave way to the reception.

Isabel remained at Damian’s side for hours, accepting an endless stream of congratulations. Gradually, her feet, confined in stiff formal shoes, and her calves began to throb with pain. Resisting the urge to collapse, she subtly rotated her ankle, trying to ease the tightness in her aching muscles.

“Are you very tired?”

Isabel flinched when she heard a sudden voice beside her. She quickly pulled her leg back. She had thought she was being subtle, but it seemed he had noticed everything.

“I’m sorry. I should have been more attentive. Would you like to go inside and rest?”

“N-No. There are still guests…”

“Please, don’t worry. I will speak to them.”

“It’s all right…”

She answered out of habit, but the truth was that she was utterly exhausted.

She had been standing in high heels for hours and her ankles and calves were swollen. Her back had been rigid and straight the whole time and now ached. The heavy ornaments pinned in her hair had left her neck and shoulders stiff and sore.

However, it would be improper for the bride to leave the reception first.

Remembering the Baron’s warning to behave, Isabel endured in silence. I must not cause trouble. Never.

As though he had read her thoughts, Damian spoke again.

“The reception is nearly over anyway. At this point, no one will mind if the bride steps away.”

Even so, when Isabel hesitated, he called a maid and gently urged her to escort Isabel to her room. With no real choice left, Bel followed the maid upstairs to the bedroom.

“This is the bedroom.”

The maid guided her towards the sofa. Obediently, Isabel remained seated, and as she did so, she caught the faint scent of roses lingering in the air.

She touched the veil tickling the bridge of her nose and focused on the subtle sounds around her. She could hear quiet, purposeful footsteps moving back and forth.

“We will prepare everything.”

‘Prepare what?’

Isabel almost asked, but then she closed her mouth. The scent of the flowers had grown stronger, and suddenly she understood what they meant by ‘prepare’.

The first night.

She must have been out of her mind today to forget something so important.

“Ah.”

A soft breath escaped her lips.

As she remembered the next step she had almost forgotten, Isabel began picking at her fingernails, feeling anxious again.

In order to spend the night there, she would have to bathe.

To bathe, she would have to remove her veil. But she could not allow anyone to see the damage to her eyes.

Lost in these troubled thoughts, Isabel flinched sharply when a hand suddenly touched her shoulder. The maid seemed even more startled than she was, immediately lowering her head in apology.

“My apologies, my lady.”

“It’s—it’s all right. I can bathe on my own…”

Her voice trailed off, and she pressed her lips tightly together. She wanted to bite her own tongue for stammering like someone uneducated.

“It will be difficult for you to wash alone. Please allow us to assist you.”

The maid soothed her gently, assuming that Isabel was simply wary of unfamiliar people. She approached with even greater caution.

“I—I can do it.”

But Isabel recoiled further, pulling her body away in refusal. The maids could not hide their discomfort at her unexpected resistance.

“I will assist her.”

The maids and Isabel stood in awkward uncertainty until a calm and steady voice broke the tension, offering salvation.