The Proposal with the Imperial Seal
From that point on, Kyle wore the mask of a kind older brother in public while quietly, cunningly gnawing away at Laila beneath the surface.
And it was in order to protect herself from Kyle that Laila first came to manifest her power.
I had to turn back time yesterday.
After finishing her meal, Laila returned to her room. Bright sunlight poured through the window and fell across the bed where she lay, but it did nothing to lift her heavy heart.
If I had erased yesterday, I wouldn't be having this conversation with him at all.
But a day had passed, and yesterday had hardened into a fixed past that could no longer be rewound. That was the clear limit of Laila's power over time.
She regretted not turning back the clock the night before. If only she had refused the Princess's dinner invitation gracefully and gone home. If only she had returned before Viscount Ervan and the Emperor arrived at the Princess's Palace. No—if only she had simply claimed to be ill and never gone at all.
The useless what-ifs gnawed at her as regret, making her miserable.
"...I hate this."
The truth was, yesterday had been a rather good day for Laila—so good that she hadn't even thought to rewind it.
Her time with the lovely Princess had been delightful, and she had earned the Emperor's approval as well. Her heart had fluttered throughout her conversation with Ervan. Laila understood that feeling, dimly. It was fondness.
She couldn't negate an entire day over a few exchanged words with him.
Forcing herself to steady her mind, Laila tried to think of something pleasant.
"..."
A large man's silhouette took shape in her mind. When she pictured Ervan at the Emperor's splendid table, carefully deboning fish with those huge hands, a smile crept across her face before she knew it.
Press down on the large center bone with the knife first, then push the flesh aside on both sides—it won't fall apart.
At first, Laila had had no intention of helping him. But the sight of him struggling with a tiny knife and fork kept nagging at her.
Besides, the servants' gazes—amused, condescending as they watched him fumble—made her move to help before she could stop herself.
She could still see vividly the look on Ervan's face as he stared at her, dumbfounded.
"How foolish of me."
Laila burst out laughing without meaning to. The heaviness in her chest began to melt, softening. Her mood was lifting, little by little.
Just then came a light knock at her door.
"Miss."
"Come in."
It was Mary, her personal maid. Laila rose from the bed in a rustle of fabric to greet her.
"Miss, the Grand Duke is asking for you in the study. The Grand Duchess is there as well."
"Me?"
Laila echoed the question in surprise. Her father rarely summoned her to the study, and a small thread of unease stirred in her chest.
Her steps toward the study felt heavy. Mary trailed behind her slow pace.
"Laila, there you are. Sit."
The Grand Duke and Grand Duchess were seated in the study. Laila instinctively searched their faces, as she always did. Their unsmiling expressions unsettled her further.
She paid even more attention than usual to her bearing. When she settled gracefully onto the sofa, smoothing her skirts, the Grand Duke handed her the letter waiting on the table as if he had been waiting for exactly this moment.
"A proposal of marriage has arrived for you."
Laila's eyes went wide. The Grand Duchess, seated beside her, gently clasped her startled daughter's hands. Her eyes were already rimmed red, on the verge of tears.
"Our little girl is old enough to be married already."
Laila wasn't the only one caught off guard; the Grand Duke and Duchess were just as shaken. They simply weren't ready to let go of the child still in their arms.
But regardless of their readiness, this marriage would proceed.
"The Emperor's own seal is stamped on the proposal. It's as good as a proclamation of a state marriage."
The Grand Duke spoke heavily, his face clouded.
Laila struggled to calm her racing heart.
As a lady of the Grand Duchy, marriage was something she would face eventually—there was nothing new about it. The timing had simply come a little sooner than expected. It was no cause for grief.
Only—she would never again have a private meeting with Ervan. That was what left a bitter taste.
"And who is the gentleman?"
Laila smiled with practiced composure.
"Viscount Ervan."
At her father's words, Laila drew in a sharp breath. She was more stunned than she had been at the news of the proposal itself.
"...Viscount Ervan, you say?"
"That's right. You dined together last night, didn't you? It seems His Majesty took a favorable view of the two of you."
The Grand Duke could not easily soften his stiff expression. He was Laila's father, but he was also the head of House Esdelheim.
Viscount Ervan. A man raised to nobility as a war hero.
He was also the man upon whom the Emperor was currently bestowing his greatest strength, in order to shore up his own foundation.
And yet he carried one fatal flaw: common birth.
And to cover that flaw, the Emperor had demanded the legitimate daughter of House Esdelheim.
"His Majesty desires a union between that man—head of the Imperial Knights and hero of the war—and our Esdelheim."
Reading her father's troubled face, Laila grasped the political calculus behind the words at once.
"A proposal that benefits them, then."
With Esdelheim at his back, Viscount Ervan would gain legitimacy. And through Ervan, the Emperor would be able to reach into the deepest heart of House Esdelheim.
Laila's thoughts tangled into confusion. Ervan's face kept surfacing—meet me at night, not dawn—and she closed her eyes.
Was Viscount Ervan courting my favor with this in mind from the very beginning?
What if every one of his actions had been nothing more than groundwork for this marriage? Laila bit down hard on her lip.
"This afternoon, Viscount Ervan will call on the Grand Duchy. Prepare to receive him."
At her father's roundabout summons, Laila left the study with a blank expression.
She stood near the closed window, looking out. Before long, an ornate carriage came into view, rolling into the Grand Duchy's grounds.
"..."
Oblivious to her mistress's turmoil, Laila's heart pounded without permission.
Pull yourself together. I am Esdelheim.
Laila steeled herself. Every gesture of Ervan's that had charmed her might have been nothing but preparation for this marriage.
If so, she would not be swayed by him again. She would play the 'perfect wife' he desired—but never again would she give him a single piece of her heart, she resolved.
A long while passed even after Ervan stepped down from the carriage.
"Miss, the Grand Duke is calling you to the drawing room."
At Mary's summons, Laila turned away. It was time to learn the truth.
Descending to the drawing room, Laila's eyes met the Grand Duke's first, where he sat at the head of the room.
As the Grand Duke and Duchess turned their gazes toward her, Ervan, too, naturally looked back over his shoulder.
The moment he confirmed her, Ervan rose abruptly from his seat.
"You've arrived, Viscount."
Laila greeted him gracefully, spreading the skirts of her wide dress. Ervan stared at her blankly, then answered a beat too late.
"...Forgive my unannounced visit and any discourtesy. My lady."
Their gazes collided in the empty air.
Ervan was dressed in a deep navy formal coat. The frock coat bearing the medal the Emperor had personally awarded him was stretched taut across his frame.
It was because his shoulders were rigid with tension, every muscle drawn tight.
Is he nervous too?
Ervan's voice was so excessively polite it sounded almost cold.
Lifting her skirts slightly, Laila walked with light, measured steps and sat down across from him.
"Viscount Ervan, I never expected to see you again so soon."
"No, my lady. I apologize for startling you with such a sudden proposal."
It was the second apology Ervan had made since they met in the drawing room.
His eyes were fixed on Laila just as before, but she could tell. Somehow, something was different.
And it wasn't only nerves.
"I hear you spoke with His Majesty after I returned home yesterday."
"Yes."
Ervan's reply was curt. Looking at that stiff, unfamiliar face, a flicker of disappointment crossed Laila's own. Then—
"I know it must have displeased you."
Ervan began quietly, a sigh woven into his voice.