“You really don’t need to worry. Heidel told me that you don’t like being in front of large crowds. I won’t be inviting many people, and I won’t invite anyone who might spread gossip.”

She continued to persuade. She promised that it would be completely painless. If anything went wrong, she promised to stop the ceremony immediately. She promised to do whatever Ariadne wanted.

These were extraordinary conditions, especially for something as minor as being a bridesmaid. And yet, perhaps because they were so considerate, Ariadne found herself hesitating even more.

After a moment of silence, she carefully opened her mouth.

“…Why do you want me to do it? When you’re going this far…?”

“Because I want to be close to you.”

The answer came far more easily than the question. The answer was simple and straightforward: she just wanted to grow closer.

“Well… there must be other ways to become close besides this.”

“But to become close quickly, you need a starting point, don’t you?”

At that moment, Kieron—who had been quietly listening—spoke.

“…Isn’t this just a way for you to use my wife to keep Lorelei in check?”

He stared at Sylvia with cold, sharp eyes as he continued.

“Since Princess Lorelei is wary of Your Highness, you intend to strike back in return, isn’t that it?”

“You think I’d use the youngest sister of my fiancé, the person he cherishes most in the world for political gain?”

Sylvia scoffed, as if she couldn’t believe the nonsense she was hearing.

“And do you really think something like this would damage Lorelei? At most, she’d be annoyed for a moment. She’s already been promised the throne by our father.”

With each word Sylvia spoke, the air in the room seemed to grow colder. Kieron and the princess argued back and forth, neither of them willing to accept the other’s reasoning.

Ariadne wondered why she was caught up in it all. Wasn’t this simply about whether she would be a bridesmaid or not? About whether she would help brighten her beloved brother’s wedding?

Instead, the discussion had twisted into talk of political currents that she wanted nothing to do with.

She could understand everything they were saying; none of it was beyond her comprehension. But it all felt far too heavy for her to carry.

Feeling trapped between them, Ariadne could only fidget with her fingers.

“To properly keep Lorelei in check, all the duke has to do is protect his wife. Why would I need to think of anything else? Do you truly not know what Lorelei is most obsessed with right now?”

But this time, even Ariadne could not understand Sylvia.

What did Kieron ‘protecting her’ have to do with keeping Lorelei in check?

What did one have to do with the other?

She looked from one to the other, bewildered, but neither seemed capable of explaining. So Ariadne closed her mouth and decided to listen silently.

“I’m not getting divorced, so why should I protect her? Besides, there’s no chance of Princess Lorelei getting involved.”

Kieron’s voice rang out clearly.

“But she’s the type to eliminate a position entirely just to create one for herself. You still don’t know Lorelei very well, do you?”

Sylvia spoke with open derision. Lorelei would use any means necessary to obtain what she wanted.

“If I have the duchess stand as my bridesmaid, then my people will naturally view her as someone who must be protected. And yes, Lorelei’s wariness will grow stronger but the duke can handle that much, can’t he? With Peyton on my side, Lorelei won’t dare touch you easily.”

Sylvia’s voice grew heavier.

“How long do you plan to keep your wife hidden away at home? You do realize that only puts her in even greater danger, don’t you?”

As she listened to her teasing words, Ariadne felt her thoughts gradually fall into place.

In short.

Sylvia wanted her as a bridesmaid to show everyone that Ariadne was under the princess’s protection.

With the combined support of House Peyton and Princess Sylvia — and as the mistress of one of only two ducal families in the Empire — even if Ambrose’s power was currently diminished, this would still send out a silent but unmistakable warning: Do not touch her.

At the same time, although Ariadne wasn’t active in society, Sylvia’s extensive and powerful connections would essentially guarantee her safety within social circles.

All Ariadne had to do was be a bridesmaid.

“Rumors of discord among the Peyton siblings have been spreading in society lately. Lorelei is likely trying to isolate you.”

“I can protect my wife on my own.”

“Really? Because it seems quite obvious that you don’t pay her enough attention, Duke.”

This mansion doesn’t look particularly safe, either.

Sylvia made this pointed remark and glanced towards the drawing room door, where Jay stood alone, acting as a guard.

Sylvia repeated the gesture, her voice sharp.

“If you’re truly going to protect your wife, shouldn’t she have at least one personal guard? How far do you think a single maid can keep her safe?”

Jay was clever enough to send all the maids away when Kieron arrived, leaving only herself by the door.

However, if someone were determined to eavesdrop, the conversation in the room could easily be overheard.

There wasn’t a single guard in sight, though — only one servant.

Sylvia shook her head, chastising him.

“You should keep your mind clear, Duke. That is—unless you actually want to marry Lorelei.”

Kieron’s expression hardened.

Ariadne wondered if Sylvia was being too informal with a duke. Luckily, though, Sylvia didn’t seem to mind at all.

“My affairs are my own to manage.”

“Well, that remains to be seen.”

Looking far more relaxed than at the beginning, Sylvia lifted her teacup, took a sip, and turned back to Ariadne.

“I ended up saying far more than I should have, but I truly do want to grow close to you, my lady. As for the complicated political matters tangled behind it, you don’t need to worry about any of that.”

‘Ultimately, that’s my situation, not yours.’

Sylvia smiled softly as she said it.

But there was something in that smile — something resigned and almost defeated — that made Ariadne’s heart tighten.

Her thoughts became even more tangled.

Sylvia had already said everything she needed to say. Woven into those words were countless reasons why Ariadne could not refuse.

On top of that, Sylvia had promised to reduce the number of guests and select each attendee personally, knowing how much Ariadne disliked crowds.

Given that the conditions and reasoning were arranged entirely for her benefit, there was no way Ariadne could say no.

She could not bring herself to say no.

‘If I had known it would come to this, I should have refused from the very beginning—
before I learned everything.’

She had meant to refuse without hesitation — and yet, here she was.

Ariadne felt overwhelmed.

Having heard everything, however, she couldn’t possibly refuse.

Letting out a small sigh, she nodded.

“I’ll do it, Your Highness. You made it sound like it would be best if I did, in more ways than one.”

“My lady. If you’re uncomfortable, you really don’t have to. All the complicated things I said were meant for the duke to hear, not for you.”

Kieron sighed in frustration, and Sylvia tried to dissuade her.

Ariadne was puzzled.

They had told her to choose.

They had explained everything — far more than she had ever wanted to know — and now they were stopping her?

She looked at the two of them and spoke clearly.

“You told me to choose.”

“That’s true, but…”

“And I chose after hearing everything. It’s my decision.”

No matter what had been said or how much they had argued, the choice was hers alone.

Ariadne shook her head firmly.

“I’ll do it, Your Highness. Tell me what I need to prepare.”

She would do it either way. That was the conclusion she had come to after piecing together everything she had heard, for whatever reason — political, personal or family.

Lifting her teacup, she lowered her gaze, hiding her expression behind the rim.

“If you don’t want to, you don’t have to force yourself. As Her Highness just said, this isn’t something you need to be responsible for.”

However, Kieron was clearly unhappy with her decision. After all, it was him who had inserted himself into the conversation. He was the one who had encouraged Sylvia to speak her mind. If he had truly wanted her to make her own decision, he shouldn’t have said anything at all.

Why did he come into the room and make things worse?

A sudden, bitter thought crossed her mind.

‘What if even this was something he intended?’

The resentment she felt toward him sharpened. And his disapproving expression only solidified her resolve. She looked straight at Kieron and spoke.

“You’re right. And this isn’t something Your Grace needs to concern yourself with. This doesn’t harm the honor of the house, so I’ll decide on it myself.”

Her voice was firm, as if she were hammering a nail into place.

Kieron looked mildly startled.

Sylvia, sitting across from them, let out a small laugh.

“Her Grace isn’t wrong about anything, Duke. If anything, this will only raise the duchess’s standing—it certainly won’t tarnish Ambrose’s reputation.”

With Sylvia reinforcing her words, the atmosphere shifted again. There was something about her light-hearted tone that gave Ariadne a strange sort of courage. Of course, at that moment, she wanted Sylvia and Kieron to leave her alone more than anything, but…

“Don’t worry. I’ll do well enough not to embarrass Your Grace.”

“I never said I’d be embarrassed.”

“Well, we’ve never gone anywhere together before, so who knows.”

In that moment, Ariadne hated Kieron, sitting beside her looking irritated, more than she hated Sylvia, laughing across from her.

She didn’t spare Kieron a single glance, even though he looked stunned by her words.

She simply lifted her teacup and took a quiet sip.

The fragrance was stronger than usual today.

It must have been brewed well.