“Laila. When I return from the war, I’ll love only you. I promise.”

It was that promise that carried Laila through the storm of battle.
The battlefield—strewn with bl＊＊d and corpses—was no place for someone as graceful as she was, but for the sake of love, she had no choice.

‘Now I can finally see Carlo again.’

As she stepped through the palace gates, light returned to her eyes.
What should she say when they met? Should she playfully complain that it was hard, that she missed him terribly?
Then, surely, he would smile and pull her into his arms, telling her she had suffered enough.

Laila entered the grand hall beside the commander who had led the victorious army. Inside, nobles were gathered to celebrate the returning soldiers.

‘Where is Carlo?’

It was strange—he was nowhere to be seen. A man of such striking looks and tall stature could hardly go unnoticed.

Then her gaze found him—at the very front of the hall, standing stiff and solemn.
Carlo, holding Lady Roselina’s hand.

“Why… why?”

Neither the commander’s triumphant report nor the emperor’s words of praise reached her ears.
Carlo—the man who had sworn to love only her—was holding another woman’s hand.

Laila’s world began to waver.
It felt as though her own time had stopped while everyone else’s moved on without her.

And then—

“The union between Lord Carlo Siren and Lady Roselina Crussian is not only a joy to their houses, but a great blessing to the Empire.”

Marriage.

At that single word from the emperor, Laila’s fleeting happiness shattered.
Even as Carlo knelt before Roselina, Laila’s gaze stayed fixed on him.

The man who had once vowed to love only her was now looking at another woman.

“Lady Roselina, it is an honor to stand by your side—the most precious of all. I vow to love you for life and make you the happiest woman in the world.”

“Carlo…”

Roselina’s cheeks flushed as tears of joy welled in her eyes.

They were the perfect pair—so perfect that Laila’s eyes burned with bl＊＊d.