IVAGHD 02

Chapter 2

It was over.

“You… you’re…”

Viretta froze, too stunned to even greet him.

Last night, when the young man had mentioned just arriving in town, she’d thought he might be a guest attending her grand engagement ceremony.

But her fiancé? Of all possibilities—that one hadn’t crossed her mind.

While she fiddled awkwardly with the hem of her skirt, her father, Kadlen, quickly stepped in.

“You two have already met? Where was that?”
“We happened to run into each other in town yesterday, sir. I had no idea she was your daughter. But if she is, then—”
“It must be fate! What a small world! Hello there, I’m Viretta Medlit, second daughter of House Medlit. I was so surprised to see a familiar face sitting here! What a pleasant surprise!”

Viretta cut him off smoothly and darted between her father and her future father-in-law, speaking in her most charming tone.

Her bright, lilting voice quickly drowned out Iola’s calm explanation. Thankfully, Kadlen came to her rescue, laughing heartily.

“Meeting before I could even introduce you! They call that destiny, don’t they? Hahaha!”
“Haha, indeed! A match made in heaven, one could say! Just as you said, my friend—your daughter is full of spirit. I’m delighted to meet you, my dear. I’m Monain Viel, father of this young man.”

Kadlen and Monain threw back their heads and laughed, their deep chuckles echoing through the room.

Viretta sat beside her father and bowed gracefully. “It’s an honor to meet you, Lord Monain.”
“Please, no need for formality. And this is my son, Iola. You two are the same age.”
“A pleasure. I’m Iola Jin—though by your customs, you might say Iola Viel.”

Iola, seated across from her, dipped his head politely. His composed manner clearly pleased Kadlen, who gestured proudly toward him.

“As you can see, this fine young man is your fiancé.”
“And that means this fine young lady is yours,” Monain added with a grin.

Iola’s eyes widened—still as earnest as the day before.
“So I truly am engaged to Lady Viretta.”
“Indeed,” Kadlen said proudly. “And not just because she’s my daughter—she’s bright, lively, and full of heart.”

“But…”
“Something wrong?”

Iola’s hesitant look sent a ripple of dread down Viretta’s spine.

“Not for me, sir. But perhaps for Lady Viretta…”
“Absolutely not! You’re being so thoughtful, Iola, but really, I’m fine!”

She slammed her palm against the table with a crack, cutting him off before he could say more. The sound was so loud both fathers flinched.

Her hand stung like fire, but she forced a calm smile. She refused to lose face now.

Of course, the twitch in her cheek gave her away.

Kadlen looked ready to faint from worry. Monain eyed her warily, as if reassessing his future daughter-in-law. And Iola—bless his naïve heart—just looked concerned.

He straightened, resolve flashing in his eyes like a man sworn to truth itself.

“We’ve met before. Yesterday, in fact—”
“Yes! You said you couldn’t wait to meet your fiancé!”

Before he could finish, Viretta snatched the tiny spoon meant for stirring tea and tapped it loudly against her saucer.

“No, that’s not what I— I meant that loveless mar—”
“That seeing unhappy couples breaks your heart, and you wanted to create wonderful memories with your fiancé! Right? Please, have some bread!”

Not giving him a chance to protest, Viretta half-stood and shoved a piece of bread into his mouth.

Both fathers paled. They tried to cough discreetly, hoping to signal the young couple to behave, but the only result was a chorus of awkward throat-clearing.

Meanwhile, the supposed lovebirds ignored them completely—locked in a fierce battle of words and pastries.

Iola, ever the gentleman, tried to speak despite the food in his mouth. Viretta, ever the desperate liar, countered by feeding him even more: bread, fruit, candied chestnuts.

It was less an act of affection and more like a farmer force-feeding a goose.

Every “Yesterday…” was drowned out by “Please, eat!” and a father’s nervous cough.

By the end of it, Iola had somehow eaten everything on the table and still looked bewildered.

He clearly had no idea what she was trying to hide—or why mentioning their previous conversation was dangerous.

If he had known, she could have accused him of sabotage. But his expression was far too innocent for that.

When bread, apples, and chestnuts all failed to silence him, Kadlen finally intervened.

“Alright, that’s enough. It seems Viretta doesn’t wish to discuss what was said yesterday. If it’s nothing urgent, perhaps you two should talk privately and sort things out.”

“Father’s right,” Viretta jumped in. “Some things are best kept between us. It’s… embarrassing.”

Iola nodded solemnly. “Understood. I’ve been inconsiderate. My apologies, to all of you.”

Then he stood and offered his hand to her.

“With your permission, may I speak with Lady Viretta alone?”
“Wh-What? Absolutely not! That’s too fast!”

Viretta recoiled like he’d just made an indecent proposal. She crossed her arms and knees defensively.

Of course, she knew they’d have to talk eventually. He believed every word of her ridiculous story, and if she didn’t clear things up soon, things would only get worse.

But not right now. She wasn’t ready.

When it came to unpleasant things, Viretta had a system—postpone them indefinitely.

Still, her father was merciless. “It’s just a conversation, not a scandal. Go on.”

Right. Her father—the traitor, the architect of this whole mess.

She shot him a glare that said I’ll remember this, then turned to Iola. If her father wouldn’t save her, she’d save herself.

“B-But it’s far too soon! There’s a proper order to things—we only just met! We’re not at that stage yet!”

Her words tumbled over each other in panic.

And of course, Iola misunderstood completely. His hand tightened into a fist, his expression full of anguish and passion—an ominous combination.

“Then what about yesterday?!”
“What?”
“The time we spent together—what was that, then?”

Even Viretta flinched. That sounded way worse than he meant.

Both fathers jumped to their feet.
“What happened?!”
“Calm yourself, my friend! It’s a language mix-up!”

Monain’s face, however, betrayed pure panic. He looked at his son like a man praying this wasn’t about to become a scandal.

The tension was unbearable. Viretta realized there was no way to explain this without digging herself deeper.

“Forget about yesterday!” she cried.
“I can’t! Your words and your actions—they’re seared into my heart!”
“Oh dear… you can’t say things like that so suddenly! I mean—no, no, that’s not what I meant. People change quickly, you know! I never dwell on the past, so you shouldn’t either.”

She said it with forced cheer, but the damage was done.

He wasn’t talking about romance—he was talking about her speech yesterday, her fake lament about being a victim of a loveless marriage, and her dramatic claim that she’d do anything for true love.

It must have left quite an impression—enough to make him fall for her completely.

But she needed him to forget it.

She wasn’t in love, and she certainly wasn’t planning to risk her life for it.

No amount of pride justified throwing away her engagement—or her life—over one stupid boast.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t,” Iola said firmly.

Even after learning his fiancée loved someone else, he showed no resentment.

He simply sat there, steadfast and sincere, radiating the kind of conviction that made him either incredibly noble—or incredibly dense.

Then, with a grave expression, he dropped the biggest bomb of all.

“After meeting you yesterday, I finally understood what love truly is.”

And just like that, the situation went from bad to worse.