Secret Love Affair between a Former Saint and a Dark Hero - Chapter 8
“Me?”
Why was I invited? She didn’t dare ask her father this, however.
“The one who has invited us is the Crown Prince. Do you understand what that means?”
Although filled with fear, Iora once again lifted her head to look at her father. Her heart pounded with anxiety.
“Before he was the Crown Prince, he was your fiancé. It’s high time you met him. It’s rather fortunate. It’s a great shame that he has never called on you, considering that Arcanda lives in the palace and visits as often as she does.”
If there’s a female protagonist in the story, there is also a male protagonist. For some reason, the male lead, the Crown Prince’s betrothed, was not Arcanda but the false saint Iora.
Due to her hasty reading of <The Saint’s Flower>, she might have missed that detail. Since she was the fiancée of the male protagonist, she was inevitably placed in the position of a villain who interferes with the heroine.
‘Why is the Crown Prince looking for me now? What does he want?’
Her father pushed back his chair and stood up, as if he was tired of dealing with her.
“Prepare yourself, Iora von Ribandt.”
“…”
“This is not for leisure. It won’t be a glorious occasion. I can’t tolerate any more shame. There can be no room for mistakes. Do you understand? Present yourself as nothing but a perfect noble lady.”
“…”
“Iora, why aren’t you answering? Can’t you pull yourself together?”
“Yes. I apologize. I’ll do my best…”
In an instant, her face turned pale as she realized something.
‘If I make a mistake in the palace, my father… He would never let it go.’
Her heart, which had been pounding intensely, made a sharp, whistling sound. Imprisonment, being spanked in front of everyone, none of these were things she could ever get used to. When she hunched her shoulders, her father grimaced in displeasure.
“There’s nothing reassuring about you. Pitiful and inadequate child. Straighten your shoulders right away! If you’re this incapable, how can I entrust the family’s future to you? You have to impress the Crown Prince.”
“I’m sorry…”
She lowered her head. Even just not seeing her father’s face and gaze was a relief, but she was afraid of the stern expression he was making out of sight. She squeezed her eyes shut and listened to his harsh, distant voice.
“Make sure you’re as much to the Crown Prince’s liking as possible. I’m sure you’ve memorized what I told you, but you’re not allowed to leave his sight. Never go beyond His Highness’s favor. I know your speech is unsteady, and the only thing you have going for you over Arcanda is your position as his betrothed. Think before you speak.”
“Yes, yes.”
“Answer only once. Do you take me for a fool?”
With that, her father shot her a cold glance and then left. As he did, the maids, who didn’t openly mock her but stifled their laughter, looked at Iora in disdain.
‘Who does she think she is, acting like a noble lady? I bet I could do it better.’
‘Look at her expression, she might burst into tears any moment.’
‘No wonder they call her a fake saint. Lord Ribandt must be tired having a daughter like her.’
Pretending not to hear, she walked on. She closed the door and continued down the corridor. Enduring the indignity of wanting to collapse, she returned to her room to find the servants waiting for her, unable to hide their annoyance with their blank faces.
As the young lady’s furrowed her brow in exhaustion, she was pushed around by the servants, who were all shouting frantically.
“There’s no time, miss!”
“You must wear the outfit prepared by the Marquess.”
“It’s the design that Her Highness and the Prince himself have chosen for you.”
“These are the points that the Marquis emphasized. Study them carefully.”
“You mustn’t make any mistakes. Those were the words from the Madame.”
Iora stared at the items thrust in front of her, from the clothing and exquisite jewelry to the sweet-scented perfume and dense sheets of paper containing crucial information about the Prince. The desperation of her family to secure the Prince’s favor was evident in these objects spread out before her.
‘Ugh. What’s the point of all this? The Prince will undoubtedly choose that girl instead of me.’
She blinked in confusion. The pale orange dress was certainly lovely. The expensive dress, tailored in the latest fashion, would undoubtedly elevate her status as a lady of house Ribandt.
‘But no one ever asks me if I like that color or if I even like the dress. Never.’
The brilliant white lace and sparkling gemstones on the dress were dazzling, but that was all they were. They held no deeper meaning. The clothes were removed, the hair was styled, and makeup was applied to her face. She closed her eyes tightly.
‘Yes, as if I meant nothing in this house.’
In her past life, even a single gem would have made her shed tears of joy, but now they felt utterly worthless.
Like she had been turned into a doll, she surrendered her body to the mechanical hands. When she looked again, a splendid noble lady stood before the mirror. The scent of perfume, so rich and sweet it could suffocate, wafted gently.
“The carriage is waiting. Please follow me. The Marquis is waiting for you.”
“…Alright.”
Following the guidance of the butler, Iora walked, gently caressing her abdomen. Once again, she felt like there were stones weighing her down, making it hard to breathe.
