— Your Grace.
“Or perhaps… ” he began, his voice soft, tinged with a forced calm, “ if there’s even the tiniest trace of suspicion… we could send them all to the gallows. A bit dramatic, don’t you think? ” The man paused, his lips curving into a grim smile. “In fact, on second thought, perhaps a public execution would be more appropriate. Stoning them to death in the square, a cruel spectacle for all to witness. Of course, Eileen would have a front-row seat. A valuable lesson on the consequences of insolence, wouldn’t you agree? These bastards even put their severed heads on display in the taverns. And then, on top of everything, they band together to commit repugnant acts. Should I really let these monsters live?”
Senon and Diego exchanged a worried glance. The details of Cesare's accusations remained unclear, but the raw fury in his words left no room for misunderstanding. The impending massacre of the citizens of Traon hung in the air, as heavy as the suffocating silence that followed.
After letting out a soft sigh, Cesare reached into his coat pocket. He pulled out a silver pocket watch, opened it with a click, and the ticking sound echoed in the icy stillness. He watched the hands for a moment, impassive, before closing it again.
"But if I acted as I wished, Eileen would be destroyed. She's too precious a girl to be treated as just a mere human, even if she addresses that undignified bastard as 'father' and takes care of him, " he murmured to Diego, extending his hand. "I wish I were a saint…"
Diego, with the half-smoked cigar between his fingers, crushed it in the ashtray. His hands trembling, he offered Cesare a new one and struck a match. After several failed attempts, he finally managed to light it.
After lighting Cesare's cigarette, Diego absentmindedly grabbed another from Senon's hand and, like his own, extinguished it in the ashtray.
As Cesare inhaled, his temper gradually calmed. The crimson irises, which had previously sparked with hatred, returned to their usual serenity. His face resumed the relaxed and composed posture of Archduke Erzet, and a soft, gentle smile appeared on his lips.
So, Senon… Even though it's a little difficult, isn't this the best path for Eileen?
The Archduke 's wedding was just a week away, set to take place in the beautiful gardens of his estate, with a select group of guests.
However, given the insatiable curiosity of the entire Traon Empire regarding the couple's union, it was decided that photographs of the ceremony would be published in the newspapers.
The prestigious La Beretta magazine secured the privilege of publishing these images, and even before the ceremony, the advertisement alone had quintupled its sales.
Speculation was rife that the edition featuring the wedding photos would break all-time sales records. Anticipating this momentous occasion, La Beretta meticulously prepared at the Archduke 's residence : stockpiling ink and paper, checking the printing presses, and drafting numerous pre-release articles, ready to accompany the highly anticipated images as soon as they arrived.
Eileen, the bride and central figure in the wedding, had spent the previous week at the Archduke 's estate preparing for the ceremony.
Despite living under the same roof, Eileen and Cesare never met. An ancient imperial custom dictated that betrothed couples remain physically and emotionally separated for a week before the wedding, further reinforced by the superstition that forbade the groom from seeing the bride in her dress before the altar.
During her stay, Eileen was instructed on numerous preparations for the ceremony. Among them, the most demanding was memorizing the guest list, a task that required remembering faces, names, titles, and social standing.
It was the wedding of Archduke Erzet, reserved only for the elite of the Empire. Illustrious names made up the list, reflecting prestige and power. Only the highest ranks received invitations; those who did not hold such a position could not even consider attending. However, some of the Archduke 's knights and soldiers were honored with the role of escort.
Eileen studied the names diligently, noting faces, titles, and details. One name troubled her: Ornella, daughter of Duke Farbellini.
As she read his profile, a chill ran down her spine. Ornella's words echoed in her mind:
“I was just curious, you know? It’s hard to understand why His Grace chose you. I understand that he treats you well because you’re the daughter of his late nanny, but he certainly wouldn’t marry out of pity… would he?”
The comment shattered what little confidence Eileen still possessed. She stared at the name "Ornella von Farbellini" with apprehension.
She'll look stunning, won't she?
It was the wedding of the man she loved. Eileen imagined Ornella so magnificently dressed that the bride herself would be outshone.
From the start, her union with Cesare seemed unlikely. Eileen feared that he would be humiliated by accepting a bride who didn't fit the mold.
He raised his hand to adjust his glasses, but blinked strangely.
Ah…
She waved her hand away in mid-air, remembering that she no longer wore them. Since cutting her bangs, she had abandoned her glasses, but she still felt strange without them, as if a part of her body was missing.
Upon arriving at the mansion with her new appearance, only Sonio greeted her with a smile. The other servants were speechless, their fixed gazes etched into Eileen's memory like burning embers.
'So, they were just empty words.'
When Diego and the seamstresses complimented her dress, she even felt a little confident. Cesare said her face looked better without glasses and bangs, which reassured her somewhat. However, Eileen knew that Diego and Cesare were men capable of seeing beauty even in the simplest things, and the seamstresses were probably only complimenting her out of convenience.
The servants' reaction was genuine, mouths agape, eyes wide. Nothing could be more sincere. Eileen wondered whether she should believe the sweet words or the incredulous looks.
No matter how hard Sonio tried to console her, Eileen remained skeptical. If Diego and Cesare were lenient, Sonio was even worse at white lies.
Thus, Eileen awaited marriage like someone condemned to execution.
The day before, Caesar's knights came to visit her.
Ah…
As soon as Michelle saw her, she froze. Lotan and Senon, equally surprised by the transformation, couldn't hide their astonishment. An awkward silence weighed on Eileen, who shrank from their gaze.
"Am I really that unpleasant...? " she dared to ask.
They denied it, but she already knew the truth.
"You don't need to lie. I cut my hair and took off my glasses because I thought they didn't go with the dress. But after the ceremony, I'll go back to being how I was before. I'll let my hair grow and start wearing them again."
As she sighed, resigned to her solitary decision, Senon exploded:
— Miss Eileen!
The words poured out, his fists clenched in frustration.
You look so much prettier without your glasses and with bangs! I was so disappointed when you started hiding your face at twelve years old. Of course, your beauty is undeniable, but your eyes, Eileen! They are treasures of the Empire, and you hid them! Hiding them doesn't change your essence, but the sparkle under the sunlight…
Before he could finish, Michelle interrupted him with an elbow nudge, jolting him from his reverie. Flushed, Senon stammered an apology.
— Excuse me. It's been so long since I've seen you properly, I just… really liked you.
This time, it was Diego who nudged him.
noticing the misunderstanding that could arise,
Senon corrected himself, burning with shame:
I mean... I like your eyes.
Michelle, however, did not let him get away with it.
— Oh, you only like her eyes?
— N-No! And Miss Eileen's too, of course!… You understand what I mean, don't you?
He turned to Eileen, his gaze pleading,
Senon looked at Eileen with a distressed expression, seeking her understanding as awkwardness hung in the air.
To be continued…