DLYTL 16

Chapter – 16

“It’s alright.”

That was how Lady Tilly subtly asserted dominance at social events, sending pointed looks to Psyche—a tactic Psyche had endured several times even in her past life.

Some ladies even glared at Psyche, silently urging her to apologize on her husband’s behalf, so today’s gathering was comparatively mild.

“And what could I even say? I’m not Icali, and I’m not a wife acknowledged by him. No one would believe what happened to Icali, what the Duke’s family did, even if I told them.”

Only Psyche knew that Icali had been abused by her parents, who switched their attitudes as easily as flipping a hand.

Even just a few years ago, everyone in the House of Dmiosis had always played the role of a perfect, enviable, ideal family in public.

There had been four years when Psyche lost contact with Icali before they met again.

Since then, the only interaction had been observing her from a distance at international events.

Over time, the man she loved had become gradually more melancholic and dark.

Yet one thing remained unclear:

“…Why did Icali kill the former Duke? Was it simply because of the title? Or was it because she hated her foster parents and Warren?”

Psyche lowered her eyes, lost in thought.

Icali had never told her anything; Psyche could only guess.

“I wish she had just said she was sick. I wish she had at least vented to me… If only I knew how much her family tormented her, or exactly what happened with her foster father.”

A servant noticed Psyche’s expression and offered a drink.

“Your complexion doesn’t look good, ma’am. Would you like some water?”

“Oh, that might be nice.”

Roil led Psyche to where the beverages were, and accidentally bumped into a lady sipping lemon balm tea. The tea spilled on his jacket.

“Oh my, I’m so sorry, Sir.”

“Oh, no, it’s my fault,” he replied.

The beige jacket was darkened by the tea, leaving the lady flustered. Psyche and Mia, who were standing nearby, quickly approached.

“Sir Roil, are you alright? Is it hot?”

“Luckily, it’s cooled. But it soaked through to my shirt… I think I’ll have to change.”

“I’ll show you to a room, Sir.”

Mia winked at Psyche and guided Roil away. Psyche gave a small, grateful smile.

Left alone in the salon, a servant approached Psyche with a card.

“Ma’am, a gentleman is waiting for you in the garden.”

“In the garden?”

“Yes.”

The card bore no message, and the servant said they couldn’t reveal who had sent it.

With many guests in the salon, Psyche couldn’t identify who it was. She stared at the blank white card, then looked up, sensing someone’s gaze.

Lady Tilly was glancing at her from among the other ladies, as if waiting for the perfect moment to approach.

Roil, who had gone to change, had not returned. Tilly was no longer as terrifying as before, but still not someone Psyche wanted to face alone.

Psyche decided to move to a place where Tilly wouldn’t be.

“Please guide me.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Following the servant, Psyche left the bustling hall of the salon.

“Are you really not going to the salon? It’s already 2 PM, Your Grace!”

Hans, unable to stand it, urged Icali. She glanced up at the sky. The afternoon sun shone brightly.

He habitually looked at the rose garden outside the window, then noticed her leaving for the salon. Turning back to Hans with a puzzled look, he asked,

“Do you really think stepping in to make the atmosphere tense is proper for a social event? Isn’t it enough if the salon ends without incident?”

“Still, it’s your first social event, ma’am. Besides, Your Grace promised to attend with you!”

“You decided that yourself. I never said I would go.”

Icali wiped ink off her fingers with a handkerchief. She disliked the schedule Hans had arranged without her consent.

While she wanted Psyche to leave the estate and meet people, she never expected him to tag along.

She was just hoping nothing embarrassing would happen. Gossip about him was already swirling in society. If he joined, it would only demean Psyche further.

Probably, Hans had acted out of concern for Psyche, not knowing she had no connection with him.

Icali sighed lightly, and Hans muttered with a troubled expression.

“By the way, I noticed something about ma’am. You were confident that His Grace wouldn’t participate in such events, even encouraging me to give up.”

“Psyche?”

“Yes. That’s why I got stubborn and insisted she attend with her husband. But ma’am was right… my apologies.”

Icali paused at Hans’s words. The term “attend as a couple” lingered briefly in her mind.

While she was preoccupied, Hans continued,

“Also, though it’s my first time meeting ma’am, I was surprised. She’s not as cheerful as the Duke described.”

Since childhood, Icali had often visited the Dossen estate and met Psyche, but Hans had been busy in the Empire learning his duties under his count father.

Icali had trained herself rigorously, sleeping little, balancing study and martial arts to meet her parents’ expectations.

Her parents clearly stated their wishes, and any notable achievement brought them joy. At times, she had worked hard simply to enjoy that approval, though her energy often depleted.

The young, sweet princess she had spent time with back then required nothing of him. It was the first time he had experienced unconditional love.

Yet the princess he remembered had been like soft cotton candy—light and gentle. Now, seeing Psyche as a bride, Hans felt she was completely different.

She seemed gloomy, almost dry in temperament.

Icali remained silent for a moment at Hans’s observations.

“Yes, she’s definitely changed.”

He, too, found Psyche’s transformation puzzling. But it wasn’t surprising; she had married the man who killed her father, so he believed she couldn’t be happy.

Icali quickly tried to erase the sweet idea of attending as a couple from her mind.

“….”

As dusk approached, Icali called Hans again.

“Prepare the carriage. We have somewhere to go.”

If it was the Marchioness of Hulyum’s garden, it was well-known even in high society.

She had originally popularized glass gardens. Though it was still under construction, it would soon be unveiled at a major social event.

The servant led Psyche to the partially finished glass garden. The wide glass shimmered like finely chopped pumpkins in the evening light.

Psyche noticed the shadow of a man waiting there.

It was someone who wanted to see her.

“So you came. I was worried you might not.”

Warren turned his wheelchair toward her and spoke. In the half-finished glass garden, only Warren and Psyche were present.

He smiled, asking,

“Did you expect me to send a card?”

“To some extent, yes.”

“Hmm. You didn’t seem surprised at all.”

“….”

“By the way, was the princess always this calm? Am I misremembering?”

His gentle tone and soft gaze met Psyche’s, revealing clear blue eyes.

Since her husband could never smile this way, Psyche found herself drawn to him, despite her discomfort.

“Why did you want to see me alone?”

Psyche hesitated but agreed to Warren’s invitation to avoid Lady Tilly. She wondered if this was truly the right choice.

It’s alright. He’s in a wheelchair… he can’t hurt me. At least, he should be more reasonable than Tilly.

She tried to reassure herself.

Yet Warren Dmiosis remained a terrifying presence in her mind.

Before their marriage, Psyche assumed he would be courteous and elegant, being a duke. The Empire’s gossip columns were full of praise for him.

However, Warren had been shockingly rude even before their engagement.

“You are that princess of Dossen, the one everyone desires.”

He had barged into her palace without invitation, smoked without saying a word, and left.

At first, Psyche couldn’t understand why he wasted time at her palace. Later, she discovered scandalous rumors about them spreading in the Empire—deliberately leaked.

“If you have nothing to say, may I leave now, Sir?”

Psyche asked quietly.