“His Grace has arrived.”

Suddenly, a voice cut through the warm atmosphere. Sylvia’s expression tightened visibly, while Ariadne froze mid-motion, teacup still in hand.

“Did you call for him?”

“No. I only informed His Grace that Your Highness was here, but…”

At that, Sylvia clicked her tongue sharply. Then she gestured for the waiting servant to open the door.

“He should’ve just greeted us in the lobby earlier and left quickly.”

“I thought he would, which is why I notified him…”

Even when the door to the drawing room opened and Kieron stepped inside, Sylvia’s complaints did not stop.

She clicked her tongue again, saying that he had barged into a women-only event without thinking.

“I greet Your Highness.”

“That’s enough, Duke. I’m sure you’ve already heard why I’m here. If you’re done with whatever you needed, you may go.”

The gentle warmth that she had shown to Ariadne just moments earlier had disappeared. Now, she looked at Kieron as though he were an insufferable nuisance, someone truly unpleasant to be around.

Ariadne found it fascinating to watch her expression change. She hadn’t expected Sylvia, who had initially seemed so warm and charming, to have such a blunt side.

“I still have business here.”

“Then finish it quickly and give us some space, will you? I have things to discuss with your wife alone.”

Sylvia now spoke to him less like a duke and more like an old friend. Someone familiar. She didn’t particularly want to see him, but she knew him too well to be formal.

When Lorelei had visited before, there had been an unpleasant closeness between her and Kieron, born of inferiority and rank.

But Sylvia’s tone now carried a different kind of familiarity: light and warm, the kind that made others smile just to hear it.

Even Ariadne, who still had feelings for Kieron, felt comfortable watching them together.

Kieron responded differently to Lorelei, too.

“I don’t know what this is about, but if it’s something I’m permitted to hear, I’ll stay.”

“Why would you, exactly?”

Sylvia narrowed her eyes as Kieron took a seat beside Ariadne, wearing a slightly shameless expression. There was something almost sly about his behavior, and Ariadne looked at him in disbelief.

Were these two actually close?

“You two seem very close.”

This prompted strange looks from both sides. All she meant was that they looked similar.

“My lady, as people of similar age often do, we’ve simply run into each other a few times at social gatherings.”

“Well, even so…”

Ariadne started to speak, then glanced to the side.

Kieron, too, was staring straight ahead, looking thoroughly displeased.

‘See?’

The man whose face rarely changed was displaying emotions like this in front of Princess Sylvia.

To Ariadne, there was no clearer proof of that.

However, since the princess clearly didn’t want to admit it, Ariadne gave a small, awkward smile instead.

“I must have been mistaken.”

“Of course you were. There’s no way we looked like that.”

‘Would Heidel tell me something if I asked him?’

Watching the two, who looked close no matter how you saw it, Ariadne smiled faintly.

“So, what is it you came to say?”

Lost in her thoughts about them, Sylvia noticed that Kieron was making no secret of his displeasure.

What exactly had brought her here?

When he asked her, she smiled and turned her gaze to Ariadne, ignoring him completely.

“My lady. Have you thought about what I asked you before? About being my bridesmaid?”

Ariadne thought: ‘So it’s finally come.’

“Bridesmaid? What are you talking about?”

Kieron frowned at the absurd and outrageous remark. He was already irritated by this high-handed, one-sided notice of a visit.

First the elder, then the younger — the imperial family really did seem to think the ducal estate was their own home.

He hadn’t liked any of them since Lorelei’s unexpected visit, and now one of them had the audacity to arrive and declare —

“Bridesmaid? Since when do married women become bridesmaids?”

“There are precedents. As I recall, even your duchess had her sisters-in-law as bridesmaids at her wedding, didn’t she?”

“That’s something people do when they don’t have close friends or sisters, Your Highness. You already have Princess Lorelei.”

“Even someone other than the duke would know that much. But as you well know, my relationship with my sister isn’t very good.”

Their exchange grew subtly sharper. After trading a few such lines with Kieron, Sylvia narrowed her brows, finally letting her displeasure show.

“But why am I explaining this to the duke, when the person concerned is the duchess?”

The warm atmosphere froze in an instant.

Sylvia’s words and expression, coupled with the clear note of displeasure in her voice, changed the atmosphere in the room. But that was no reason for Kieron to change his attitude.

“This concerns my wife. How could I not know?”

“It sounds like you’re suggesting that the Duchess can’t make any decisions without the Duke’s approval.”

“And if not through her husband, then through whom should a wife’s decisions go?”

“Have you ever considered that the idea that it must go through her husband is fundamentally flawed?”

“Did you just say flawed?”

Kieron frowned at Sylvia’s words.

To him, the idea that a wife should always consult her husband before making decisions was an obvious truth that didn’t need to be thought about.

Everyone knew it and acted accordingly.

He looked at her as if he couldn’t understand how she could fail to grasp something so basic.

“Then what else would you call it, if not a flaw?”

But instead, Sylvia gave a short, incredulous laugh, as if it were anything but obvious.

“A wife can consult her husband when making a decision, but he cannot make it for her. She is an individual with her own thoughts.”

“I never said my wife wasn’t a person.”

“Saying that a wife’s decisions must be approved by her husband is the same as saying she doesn’t count as a person. If you’re not talking about ‘consulting’, but insisting that every decision must go through the husband, what else could that possibly mean?”

Sylvia let out a humorless laugh, as though the whole situation were absurd.

Surprisingly, Kieron could not answer.

Ariadne was also stunned and could not speak.

This was only natural, she had never once considered such a perspective in her life.

“Just because everyone thinks the same way doesn’t make it right. Even if the whole world spouts nonsense like ‘women are the property of men,’ that doesn’t make it true.”

Sylvia finished firmly.

Then she turned back to Ariadne.

“So I’d like you to think it over and decide for yourself, my lady. If possible, I’d like to hear your answer today. Ah, and even if you refuse, I won’t be asking Lorelei in your place.”

In other words, she had no intention of giving her sister that chance—so there was no need for Ariadne to worry about it.

Then Sylvia turned her gaze back to Kieron.

“Heidel always respects my opinions, Duke. He listens carefully to what I truly want, and we talk things through together to reach the best possible conclusion. I believe that’s the right way to treat a wife. Wives don’t all need to be dolls who can’t move unless their husbands pull the strings. So please don’t force your way of thinking onto your wife. She can decide matters concerning herself on her own.”

With that, Sylvia shot Kieron a sharp glare. Although she had heard that he was thoughtful and decent, now that she had seen him up close, he didn’t seem any different to the other foolish noblemen in the Empire.

He was completely unsuitable for someone as precious as Ariadne, who had grown up showered with affection.

After a brief glance at the couple, Sylvia turned back to Ariadne.

“Shall I give you a moment to think, my lady?”

“…Ah. It’s just that I don’t really like standing in front of people…”

Ariadne spoke a beat late, as if her thoughts had been elsewhere. But Sylvia, who had already anticipated that answer, replied with a gentle smile.

“The wedding will be on a much smaller scale than yours was, my lady. So you don’t need to worry about that.”

“…Smaller, than mine?”

Ariadne’s eyes widened at that. This wasn’t just any wedding — it was a princess’s wedding! The last Peyton marriage, no less. And yet it would be smaller in scale than her own?

She looked utterly lost, as if she had no idea what to make of this unbelievable situation.

“I don’t have many ladies or gentlemen from other houses whom I could truly call friends, my lady. His Majesty the Emperor also requested that we not make it too grand, since my wedding comes before my sister’s.”

‘I’m sure my sister’s influence had something to do with that.’

But even taking all of that into account, it still didn’t make sense.

Ariadné shook her head, her face full of confusion.

“But… it’s still Your Highness’s wedding. You wouldn’t invite only your family, would you?”

“That’s true, but I can guarantee that no one among the guests will criticize you for standing as my bridesmaid. Anyone with even slightly poor standing in society won’t be allowed to attend in the first place.”

None of the unsavory characters who plagued society — the gossips and rumor-mongers who spread false information — would be allowed to set foot in her wedding venue.

Sylvia reassured Ariadne that these people would not be there.