I was so moved that I had to suppress the urge to shout, “I’ll go get carnations right now!” and instead struggled to maintain my dignity as a mother.

“Already so touched. His Grace will surely get carnation seeds too. Right? Your Grace?”

Sikar, who had been carelessly scattering seeds over the flowerpot, glanced over and said,

“Getting seeds isn’t difficult. The hard part is knowing how to grow them.”

Since I didn’t know how to grow flowers either, that day our little family of three sat together quietly, flipping through a flower encyclopedia.

“Mother. I heard you can see flowers all year round in a greenhouse.”

“Really?”

After replying, both Kian and I looked at Sikar. Our gazes clearly meant, “Build us a greenhouse at the manor.”

Sikar snorted dismissively upon seeing our expressions.

“There’s no need to go through the trouble of building a greenhouse—just use Sacred Water, and any plant will thrive.”

‘Right, he said that before. Just use Sacred Water.’

“So if we use Sacred Water, flowers will grow all year round?”

“Only if you give the Sacred Water properly and on time will they survive and grow well. Right now, we don’t have the leisure to worry about such things—leave it to the maids.”

Kian didn’t respond much. As Sikar said, we truly had no room to spare attention for this.

The protagonist destined to rule this country shouldn’t waste time growing carnations. Absolutely not.

I’m not sure whether it was due to Rosemary’s effect, but afterward, we spent our days playing various games.

Though Sikar and Kian’s relationship remained distant, they were becoming quite accustomed to being together.

I, more than anything, focused on the three of us being together—and I had no choice but to focus.

‘Because Gillian’s wedding was waiting for me!’

Before Gillian’s wedding, I went to Sikar’s study during the evening while Kian was asleep, to finally bring up the postponed conversation.

Since I’d never visited his study at this hour, Sikar asked with a puzzled look,

“What brings you to the study at this time? If you’ve come to throw a tantrum about finding it hard to attend Gillian’s wedding…”

“Oh, no, it’s not that.”

“Then?”

“Do you happen to know who Hersia is?”

Sikar tilted his head.

“Hmm. Should I know her?”

I considered bluntly saying, “She’s your wife in the novel,” but figured he’d just reply with a predictable, “So what?”—so I dropped it.

“She’s Gillian’s cousin.”

“If she’s Gillian’s cousin, I’ve seen her before. But why are you bringing her up?”

“She dies on the day of Gillian’s wedding.”

“I see.”

If this were a comic, this would be the moment birds fly awkwardly behind me out of sheer embarrassment.

“I—I mean, I want to save her.”

“Why?”

She can’t just die for no reason—that’s too unfair! But shouting that wouldn’t convince anyone. So I had prepared something.

“If you help Hersia, Gillian will think more favorably of you.”

“I don’t care if he thinks poorly of me. He won’t find it easy to eliminate me anyway.”

“We have to raise a child together, so it’d be nice if we could at least get along superficially.”

“Come to think of it, I remember who Hersia is. Wasn’t she the woman who becomes my wife in the novel?”

“Yes. That’s her.”

“Even though she becomes my wife in the novel, you’re willing to save her—for my sake? That’s quite jealous-making.”

That’s your misunderstanding. But this misunderstanding was exactly what I needed. Even if it’s your misunderstanding, I’ll use it to save her.

Sikar pulled me closer by the hand and double-checked the novel’s contents.

“So eliminating Hersia is simply meant to warn Gillian. Should I just follow the novel’s plot exactly?”

“Yes. Exactly as written.”

“But looking at the novel’s content, there’s a snag. Gillian, who previously didn’t care much, at this point sees me saving Hersia and decides to marry me to his cousin? It seems my rescuing Hersia gives Gillian the inspiration to bind me to him forever… Is that okay?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I’ll become entangled with Hersia—is that okay with you?”

“In that case, you’re already married—you can’t marry Hersia, right? Are you worried Gillian might make her your concubine?”

“Approaching it with such simplistic thinking is quite dangerous. Gillian will handle it simply, but differently.”

“What do you mean? Can you explain clearly?”

“It means if you die, Hersia could marry me.”

What kind of brutal thing is this?

“Why would I die…?”

“I mean Gillian might kill you somehow to link Hersia to me as my wife.”

I sat frozen like stone for a while. I’d never considered that Gillian might kill me and replace me with Hersia, as Sikar suggested.

“So if you want to live, leave Hersia to die. She’s unrelated to you anyway—you’d be better off ignoring her.”

I wish I could think as coldly as Sikar, but I felt uneasy because I pitied her tragic life in the novel.

But I couldn’t possibly die to save her, as Sikar suggested.

“Then, is there no other way?”

“There seems to be a man connected to Hersia—he later becomes the militia captain who aids Kian. He’s quite eloquent and persuasive with people.”

But he was also one of the tragic figures who later committed suicide upon learning his own militia had harmed Hersia.

‘Thinking of that part makes me sad again.’

“Let’s use him.”

“How?”

“Make him save his own woman with his own hands during the wedding.”

“But that man wasn’t invited to the wedding. How will you get him in?”

“True, royal security is tight, but with me, it’ll be easier. I’ll send him in disguised as Durion. He’ll become a useful talent later, so recruiting him now isn’t a bad idea—this is probably the best method.”

Hmm… I have to admit he’s clever.

“I’ll meet him tomorrow.”

“But what will you say when you meet him? You can’t say, ‘I’ve seen the future—your girlfriend will be murdered that day.’”

“They’d surely know I beheaded the deposed king—that’s common knowledge among this country’s people, right?”

Of course I know—I saw it myself. Remembering that moment still sends chills down my spine. Scary guy.

“So just tell him it’s information regarding the remnants of the deposed king.”

Then it might really be a happy ending? Will it actually work? But 80% of me was worried rather than hopeful.

I still hadn’t fully prepared myself mentally, but Gillian’s wedding inevitably arrived.

On the long-awaited wedding day—destined to be a villain’s festival—I couldn’t control my pounding heart.

‘Am I trembling right now?’

I didn’t tremble this much even at my own wedding.

Since it wouldn’t be good for Kian to frequently encounter Gillian, Kian stayed at the manor with Durion.

No matter how many servants there were, I couldn’t leave Kian alone at home, so only Vika, Sikar, and I attended the wedding.

‘There are so many people…’

Just seeing the crowd gathered in the square on the first day had made me nauseous. Fortunately, I hadn’t been among them then—but now, being fully immersed in the crowd, I already felt dizzy.

Seeing that I was feeling lightheaded, Sikar’s expression hardened as he said,

“Don’t worry. Vika will put you to sleep.”

This was precisely why Vika, who wanted to stay home, couldn’t—he was the only one who could put me to sleep.

‘I wish he’d just knock me out right now—I keep getting nervous and anxious, and my stomach is churning.’

As the carriage entered the city of Recador, Sikar told Vika,

“Put her to sleep now. But not too deeply—she still needs to greet Gillian.”

“Got it.”

I fell asleep instantly, as if under anesthesia, with no memory of it.

My last memory before falling asleep was Vika’s “Got it.” When I opened my eyes, I was leaning back in a chair.

This space was too small to be called a banquet hall, yet too banquet-like to be called a reception room. Later, I heard it was called a small banquet hall—perhaps a kind of party room.

Since I was wearing a veil that covered my face, people probably didn’t realize I’d been asleep. When I lifted my head, Sikar immediately handed me a glass of water.

“You look like you slept very soundly.”

Thanks to Vika. If I ever suffered from insomnia, this sleep therapy would be truly helpful.

“By the way, what about Hersia?”

“The woman sitting gloomily in the corner over there is Hersia.”

Looking where Sikar gestured, I saw a woman who looked endlessly delicate, sitting alone and isolated, unable to join the sparse gathering.

Hersia, born a daughter in a family that wanted a son, grew up lonely, enduring all sorts of mistreatment. Thus, she developed an extremely timid personality and struggled to adapt to unfamiliar places.

Just like me.

Because of her personality, she likely married Sikar under Gillian’s coercion, unable to resist, dragged along like a puppet.

“There’s still a bit more time before the remnants of the deposed king appear—don’t be so anxious.”

But I was more anxious about having to greet Gillian again.

Moreover, Gillian’s bride-to-be, Diane Billit, was no ordinary person. Sister of the spirit mage Lape, she was also a spirit mage.

Outwardly dignified and cultured, she was in truth a scheming villainess. When public gossip arose over the queen being a spirit mage, she ruthlessly eliminated anyone who spread such talk.

Perhaps due to nervousness at the thought of meeting Gillian and Diane, I suddenly started hiccuping.

“Hic. Hic.”

Sikar stared at me incredulously.

“Hiccuping in the banquet hall? And you’re a duchess?!”

“Sor… hic. Sorry… hic.”

Sikar crossed his arms and stared at me with an expression beyond incredulous—as if utterly exasperated—while I lowered my head like a criminal.

“Nervousness… hic. must be why… hic.”

“You’re truly a headache.”

‘I shouldn’t have drunk all the water Sikar gave me.’

Thinking I should drink more water, I tried to get up—but someone held out a glass of water before me. I looked up—it was Reidox.

“When you get hiccups, it’s good to gulp down water all at once. No need to sip politely to maintain dignity then.”

“Thank… hic. you. My Lord… hic.”

Having thanked Reidox, I reached to take the glass and drink—but Sikar was glaring at me fiercely, as if he’d kill me if I drank that water.

Surely he’s not glaring because I’m about to drink water from Reidox? Is it because of the hiccups? I tried to convince myself—when suddenly Sikar’s words came to mind.

‘Happy only knew me.’

Still, at the moment I thought, “If I’m going to keep hiccuping like this, I might as well just take the water and drink it,”

Sikar snatched the glass Reidox had offered and splashed its contents into a nearby flowerpot. Then, glaring murderously at Reidox, he said,

“If anyone can give something to my wife, it’s me alone.”