Viscount Jaksen roared, and the bride's veil was tragically torn away by his swinging hand.
“Viscount Jaksen!!!”
At the bishop's shriek-like cry, the seated guests all shot to their feet. Count and Countess Jaksen, as well as Duke and Duchess Taylor, stood with mouths agape, seemingly unable to believe this situation at all.
“Seize the viscount, quickly!”
Fearing that violence might erupt in the holy chapel, the bishop ordered the clerics, and they quickly seized Jack Jaksen by the arms.
“Let me go!!”
While he flailed with a fierce face, Grace calmly rose from her seat.
Like the eye of a storm, she seemed to raise all manner of wind and rain around her yet remained tranquil alone. With supremely elegant movements, she removed the necklace, ring, bracelet, and earrings she had received as gifts and carefully placed them one by one before Viscount Jaksen, held fast by the clerics.
“…….”
Silence settled once more over the chaotic hall. Jack Jaksen, who had been struggling and cursing, also stared blankly at the neatly arranged gifts before lifting his gaze.
Sunlight sweeping past the divine statue nobly enveloped the bride who had ruined the wedding. She was an impudent wench who had declared before God during the ceremony that she loved another man, yet whether due to her elegant appearance or her upright posture, she looked just like a saintess in a sacred painting. Especially her eyes that met his were like the green of new spring leaves, causing him to lose his senses for a moment.
And that sight ignited a fire in Countess Jaksen's chest.
Her precious son was on his knees, his arms seized by clerics like a criminal, while the vulgar girl who had ruined the wedding looked down at him as if passing judgment—how outrageous!
She trembled and shouted with all her might.
“To babble before God that you love another man while your husband-to-be stands before you! How dare anyone offer up such a vulgar wretch as a bride!!!”
Duke and Duchess Taylor, who had stood gaping as if struck from behind, finally rose from their seats in a panic.
“Duchess Taylor!!!”
Countess Jaksen's eyes flashed like a tiger's as she poured out every manner of abuse upon them.
“We agreed to this marriage for the sake of House Taylor's reputation, forgiving your enormous debts instead of even demanding a dowry!! How do you intend to take responsibility for the wounds our viscount has suffered and the insult dealt to our house!!! What kind of family do you think the Jaksens are! This is no different than an affront to Her Majesty the Empress herself!!!”
“Countess, please, calm down first….”
“Do I look like I could calm down right now??!! This marriage!!! I will not permit it!!!”
“You will not permit the marriage!”
“I will not!! The promise to repay your debts is null and void!!”
“Countess! Count!”
Count Jaksen also turned his head away sharply, his mustache quivering, and Duke and Duchess Taylor's faces turned deathly dark.
No! Then the money they had to repay…!
Countless gold coins flashed before their eyes, and the ducal couple's minds went hazy. They simply could not understand what was happening.
The guests no longer tried to lower their voices. Their eyes sparkled as they began to chatter about this unprecedented scandal, and the bishop also threw up his hands in resignation. The round chapel echoed so wildly it seemed to spin.
Amidst that commotion, Grace slowly turned and walked back alone against the path she had come.
“Grace!!!”
Duke Taylor barked at her murderously. When Grace turned to look at him, the Duke trembled and shouted.
“If you do not kneel and apologize this instant, I shall strike your name from the Taylors!!!”
“…….”
Disown me? Erase me from House Taylor?
Suppressing the urge to laugh aloud, Grace walked on. Angry voices poured down behind her like a tidal wave.
“Grace, how dare you not return this instant?!!!”
“Look at her!! The shameless wretch!! My dear, this is rather a blessing. Let us pretend this marriage never happened!! Moreover, House Taylor must take full responsibility and compensate for all damages caused by this incident!!”
“P-please calm down first, Countess!”
Duke and Duchess Taylor, who had been trying to seize Grace, were intercepted by the hysterical Count and Countess Jaksen. Rosette, who had been stomping her feet impatiently beside her parents, swallowed her surging anger and quickly followed Grace out.
“Grace!!”
At the angry call, Grace, who had just set foot on the stairs, turned around. Rosette, dressed more splendidly than the bride with all manner of jewels and lace, rushed up in one breath.
Grace felt the wind blowing against her. A scene of utter chaos unfolded behind Rosette. Even as her heart pounded as if it would burst, a strange exhilaration welled up within her.
“What do you think you're doing!! There are limits to sullying the family's honor!!”
Grace relaxed the pretense of gentleness from her eyes—the ones she had always kept meek—and asked back.
“Me?”
“Yes!! You ruined the wedding! My family has been put in jeopardy because of you!!”
Grace laughed as she listened quietly to the angry outcry. It was not the demure smile she always wore, but a laugh laced with sound, and Rosette blinked blankly.
“……You're laughing?”
A scornful question followed the belated cry.
“'My family'?”
Rosette's face stiffened. Grace, who had laughed like a simpleton only last night, took a step closer and pressed her.
“My family is in jeopardy because of me?”
A petite, slender frame; round eyes and a graceful, beautiful face. As her name suggested, merely elegant and quiet… It was the first time Grace Taylor had revealed her true feelings, having only ever endured silently no matter how she was snubbed. While the flustered Rosette was at a loss for words, Grace whispered into her ear.
“You know, Rosette. The moment Jack Jaksen was mentioned as nothing more than my prospective husband, the honor of House Taylor had already been buried in the mud.”
Just then, a roar burst from the chapel. It was unmistakably Duke Taylor's bellow. Rosette bit her lip hard, then shot Grace a resentful glare and cried out like a spoiled child.
“Pay the price for my parents raising you!! Go back in there, apologize, and fix that mess!!! Marry Jack Jaksen!!!”
“Then you marry him in my place.”
There was no more time to quarrel with Rosette. Leaving her frozen, Grace turned away.
“Endure it even if he has six bastards; endure it even if he beats you. After enduring for about twenty years, you'll become the Countess of Jaksen, won't you? The price for being born and raised should be paid by you, not me, isn't that right?”
Her soft-spoken tone was almost like a song. Rosette blinked blankly.
Grace… Even when her dress was stolen from her, even when the room she had lived in since childhood was taken away, she had merely nodded meekly. What?
But Grace was already crossing the corridor and growing distant. At her light, elegant retreating figure, as if the chaos behind her meant nothing, Rosette felt a stinging numbness at the back of her head.
Endure for about twenty years to become the Countess of Jaksen? Me, a daughter of House Taylor, endure a scoundrel like Jack Jaksen?!
Rosette trembled, then screamed at Grace's back.
“You…! All this time, you were only acting obedient?! Grace!!!”
Rosette's furious cry rang out thunderously through the corridor.
“Is no one there?!! Catch her and bring her here at once!!!”
However, the servants hiding throughout the chapel only looked coldly at Rosette, who was pointing and shouting frantically; none obeyed her command.
Meanwhile, Grace reached the end of the corridor and paused, looking back. As her gaze slowly swept over everything in the chapel, it stopped on a man looking down at her from atop the stairs. A man leaning casually against the entrance with his arms crossed was staring intently at her. Grace held her breath for a moment, exchanging glances with him.
Rosette's cry came to mind.
Acting? What was so special about that? Even if the entire empire pointed fingers at her for the public commotion she had caused at the wedding, she did not care. No, she intended to become a notorious femme fatale known to all from now on.
And so, after plunging a knife into the nape of the enemy who killed her parents, she would most certainly return to this place.
Taylor—the empire's cornerstone, the golden wheat field. She would reclaim that glorious name.
Clenching her fist, Grace turned her back on the place that held everything she was.