SGC 19

CHAPTER 19

Translator: Rae

***

“Let us formally pay our respects to the new lady of the house.”

However, the elderly elders couldn't hide their true feelings toward Rozella. While introducing them all, they would open their eyes and mumble quietly like they were talking to themselves. 

“Truly… she resembles her mother.”

An uneasy look settled in their eyes. Judging by their reaction, it was as though Catherine’s ghost were clinging to Rozella’s back. Rozella concealed the way her heart shrank and calmly changed the subject.

“I am pleased to meet you as well.”

Never had this face, so excessively similar to Catherine’s, felt more difficult to endure than now. As she resigned herself inwardly, the elder continued speaking with a look of lingering reluctance.

“There is something I would urgently like to impress upon the duchess…”

The title “duchess” was laden with tremendous hesitation.

“I ask that you take particular care to ensure your origins are not revealed. You should consider carefully what impact your background may have on Hayden, and why the ceremony was held privately—”

“Sir.”

At that moment, Edmund, who had remained silent, gently cut the elder off.

“It would be best if you returned after relearning how to show proper respect to the mistress of the house.”

His tone was polite, yet unmistakably carried authority.

“Whether advice or admonition, it must be grounded in respect to be worth heeding.”

The elder hesitated while stealing a glance at Edmund, and finally backed down.

“Ekhm… I apologize for my rudeness.”

Even so, he did not forget to send a troubling gaze toward Rozella to the very end, unable to conceal his concern.

Even though the elder disappeared, the pressure pressing against her chest did not. As Rozella swallowed a sigh, Edmund suddenly held out a crystal glass before her.

His gentle gaze seemed to stroke her reassuringly. It was a calming green hues that instantly erased the discomfort of the elder’s earlier stare.

Unable to tear her eyes away from him, Rozella accepted the glass. Then she whispered softly.

"Thank you, Your Grace." 

If Edmund hadn't been there for her the whole time, she would surely have made several mistakes. While she was blaming herself at relying on him so much, she also found it strange how naturally she depended on him.

Only one season had passed since their reunion, yet at some point her feelings toward him had begun to change in a subtle manner.

However, it could not be helped. Edmund had saved Rozella, who had been a traitor and a deceiver.

If not for him, Rozella would have been forced to marry a man twenty years than her. A man with malignant eyes who appraised her entire body as though judging merchandise…

When her thoughts reached that point, Rozella felt chills run from her scalp to her toes. As the piercing blue glare of Count Lawton, long forgotten, came to mind, her grip on the glass tightened unconsciously.

Edmund could have easily pretended not to know Rozella, sold her off to the count, and lived on unaffected. Even if that had happened, Rozella would never have blamed Edmund. She had no right to do so.

But Edmund did not do that, and because of him, Rozella was now standing at his side.

Though it was a contractual relationship lasting only one year, marriage to Edmund was a wish Rozella had secretly imagined and longed for since childhood.

That wish she had believed could never come true was now a reality unfolding before her eyes.

As one thought led to another, a lyrical melody announcing the ball began to play.

All eyes turned at once toward the protagonists of the day. It was tradition for the bride and groom to begin the first dance.

Rozella was able to sharply break free from her drifting thoughts when Edmund turned to her and naturally extended his hand.

Looking down at the man’s hand clad in a white ceremonial glove, Rozella gently placed her own hand atop it.

Following the soft melody, the two stepped forward among the guests. Under gazes mixed with admiration and sorrow, they faced each other.

Edmund bowed politely towards Rosella, who, greeted by the groom, gently lifted her dress and bent her knees. 

As the waltz began, Edmund pulled Rozella close by the waist in time with the elegant music. Rozella instinctively placed her hand on his firm shoulder and held her breath.

It was because she could clearly feel the touch of his agile hand through the thin satin dress.

Following his lead and taking slow steps, Rozella lifted her trembling golden eyes. Edmund curved his long eyes gently and whispered.

“This makes it your second time in real practice. Right?”

At the sound of his voice, the summer of their reunion came to mind. That day as well, the two had danced together at a ball.

Unlike back then, when fear wrapped around her entire body and she could not even properly look at him, meeting his eyes now was not so difficult.

With her entire gaze captured by him, Rozella answered softly.

“Today… I won’t make a single mistake.”

At that, a small chuckle resonated from Edmund’s throat.

“You can make mistakes anytime. I won’t let you fall.”

Watching the two, like a single exquisite painting, the guests slowly began to lose themselves in their dances.

Among them were some who began, at least slightly, to understand Edmund’s foolish choice.

The bride was a woman whose captivating presence could not be explained by the word beautiful alone, and her features, both brilliant and delicate in line, possessed a charm that could not be defined by a single word.

She seemed like a witch of the night, or perhaps a nymph of the dawn. Especially her mysterious golden eyes, which looked like a gift bestowed by the sun god.

If a demon existed that tempted heroes and led them to ruin, one could imagine it appearing in the form of such a beauty.

As the waltz reached its peak and finally met its finale, the guests, each harboring different emotions, applauded the two main characters of the day with one united heart, at least for this moment.

Edmund placed one hand behind his back and bent at the waist with elegance. With the other, he drew Rozella’s hand closer and pressed his lips upon the back of it.

Through the fine lace glove, the man’s lips lingered as though branding a mark, refusing to part for a long moment. Rozella’s chest rose and fell heavily.

Hoping that the sound of her pounding heart would not reach him, and that her face was not flushed too unsightly red, Rozella swallowed dryly.

The long ceremonial night was drawing to a close.

*** 

Before the reception came to an end, Rozella left the hall early under the head maid’s guidance.

It was because, by custom, while the groom saw the guests off, the bride was required to prepare for the first night.

On the very top floor of the ducal residence, several maids were already waiting in the new lady’s bedchamber.

A crimson glow flickered atop candleholders made of gold trim. On a table draped in white silk lay a bottle of wine, crystal glasses, and neatly arranged cheese and fruit.

On the bed draped with a pale lavender canopy, pristine white bedding appropriate for the first night was spread without a single wrinkle.

“Madam. We will now help you with undressing and purification through bathing.”

The maids promptly guided Rozella to the dressing room. After she was undressed from the complex evening gown, the bathroom door was opened.

Herbs and flower petals were scattered into the tub filled with hot water. Supported by the maids, Rozella stepped into the bath.

With a soft splash, as she submerged herself fully, bathwater of a comfortably hot temperature was poured over her again and again.

Each time unfamiliar hands touched her, her body flinched, yet Rozella struggled to maintain as calm an expression as possible.

“Could you lower your arms, please?”

At the maid’s monotone voice, Rozella hesitantly lowered the hands that had been awkwardly covering her chest.

Careful yet swift hands diligently washed every corner of Rozella’s stiffened body. Water scented with rich oils flowed along her smooth curves.

Lavender oil was generously applied to her rippling red hair as well. By this point, she felt as though she were being buried in fragrance.

Perhaps because of its purpose as preparation for the first night, the bath continued for a considerable length of time with great care. Each time the water cooled, the maids opened the valve and replenished it with fresh hot water.

Rozella lightly shook her head to resist the drowsiness falling over her. The long bath ended only when she finally could not help but let her head droop.

The maids supported Rozella as they lifted her up, then carefully dried her body with dry towels.

As Rozella awkwardly shifted on her toes, a pure white negligee was placed over her body. With a deep neckline and hem falling to her ankles, it subtly revealed her silhouette.

Soon, Rozella stepped out of the bathroom with awkward strides. But before she could relax, her shoulders jolted.

A visitor was already seated before the table where a simple spread of drinks had been prepared.

Edmund, seated at the table and quietly turning a crystal glass in his hand, looked toward Rozella.

A soft smile, as always, rested on his lips, framed by a dark crimson satin gown suited for tonight’s event.

“It seems I’ve come too early.”

His black hair, which had earlier revealed his forehead cleanly, now fell loosely, giving off a lazy air.

Because of the subtly sensual aura emanating from his pure and natural appearance, so different from the reception, Rozella found herself lost in the sight of his handsome features for a brief moment without realizing it.

***

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