"I must say, you're a pretty shrewd one. Using your endearing looks to charm others." The Countess of Trier scowled as she mockingly addressed Odette.
Odette stood there, her face as expressionless as a statue, the blue satin of her dress and the icy sparkle of her diamond jewelry standing out strongly against the pale marble of her face. Her corpse-like appearance gave the impression that she belonged at a funeral rather than a wedding, yet her poise and grace revealed that she was no commoner who had stolen clothes and jewels to go to the ball.
The Countess of Trier stood tall, surveying the grand banquet hall, and whispered a stern reminder to Odette. "Remember, the future of the Diessen family rests on the success of this task."
Memories of the days when she had used less-than-ideal methods to bring Odette into the family flooded her mind as she looked upon the Marble Hall. She acknowledged that Odette's stubbornness and pride came from the imperial blood that flowed through her veins.
"Please keep your promise," Odette said, pausing to turn and look at Countess Trier. She was bold, not arrogant, her eyes were epitome of sincerity and desperation.
The small pension that had once been promised to Odette seemed insignificant now, but Countess Trier did not show any sign of sadness. Odette informed her that she would no longer see Bastian Klauswitz as the man had no intention of accepting the marriage proposal and his will was unaltered.
It wasn't that she couldn't relate to his emotions.
Being humiliated and brought into a foreign environment one day wasn't that simple. It was safe to suppose that he had little chance of success if he couldn't capture the hearts of the populace by displaying all the faces he had worn. The emperor, though, preferred it this way.
Odette would have to portray Bastian Klauswitz's wife in front of everyone, even if she was fully exploited and then abandoned.
The Trier Countess happily approved. ""Alright. Will do that."
As Odette looked at the Countess of Trier, her heart was filled with a mix of emotions. The thought of the emperor being ruthless and not despicable was something she had never considered before. But, the Countess's words offered her a faint glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, this marriage proposal could lead to something better. She couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude towards the Countess for her words of comfort and reassurance.
Odette sat in front of the Countess of Trier with her eyes firmly set on the horizon. She was aware that her pension would not be lost even if this marriage did not work out. That was really all she wanted. She proclaimed in a firm voice that she would carry out her obligations if the Countess could persuade the Emperor to give her a firm response.
The Countess carefully listened, her voice containing a touch of comprehension. "Although the Emperor is a harsh individual, he is not without mercy. He won't treat you like an outsider if this marriage proposal can assure Princess Isabelle's security and happiness. They may be kind enough to raise your pension even though winning the jackpot is improbable. And who knows, if luck is on your side, you might get even more."
The Countess' voice grew softer as she talked; the sight of the abandoned princess's daughter being sold for such a pittance broke her heart. Even though she used the pension's authority as a weapon, she was not pleased by Odette's suffering at all.
Odette had to wear a brave face and go through with this duty she was given, even if it was for a small chance of a better life. And so, she took a deep breath and nodded, "Thank you, Countess." She knew that she had to be strong and hopeful for her future, and for the future of the Diessen's.
Odette expressed her gratitude in a short note before turning back to the strange environment in front of her.
Beautiful frescoes and crystal chandeliers surround the ceiling, and the enormous garden could be seen via the windows that were wide open. Everything was exactly how her mother had said it would be. It was like fairytale materializing into reality.
Odette recalled the recollection of her mother, who initially seemed strangely upbeat when telling her about the Imperial Palace but later broke down in tears, gave her a peculiar sense.
As the garden blazed with vibrant flowers, Odette couldn't have known the heartache and sacrifice that awaited her mother on the night of the ball. Helene's love was a tragic one, fueled by unrequited feelings and a longing for understanding. Though she idolized her mother, Odette struggled to grasp her mother's choices and the betrayal of her family and country they entailed. But as she faced the consequences of her mother's actions, Odette knew that true love always came with a heavy price.
Her mother had always been a dreamer, chasing illusions of love and a past that could never be regained. Like a tavern in the desert, she was enchanted by mirages and lived a life plagued by unquenchable thirst. But Odette knew the value of life, and she knew the importance of money as the foundation of it. She was not willing to sacrifice her honor and self-respect for wealth, but she also knew that honor and self-respect could not take precedence over survival. And so, with a heavy heart, Odette closed her eyes to the meaningless memories and opened them again, her resolve completely firm.
A pension was at stake in this marriage, and Odette desperately needed the funds. And so, she set forth on the path she had reluctantly chosen, her eyes meeting the man as she passed the imperial coat of arms that adorned the hall. It was a decision made out of necessity, but Odette held onto her dignity and honor as she moved forward.
The melody of the spring night flowed like a soothing symphony, illuminating the darkness with a feast of lights. The sweet scent of spring flowers was carried by the breeze that whispered through the garden, creating an enchanting ambiance. It was an evening ball, just like the stories her mother had told her, but Odette knew it was just a one-night mirage, and she did not believe in illusions.
Bastian walked across the grand hall and stopped a small distance away. His attitude towards Odette's chaperone was impeccably polite. Odette waited with elegance for the next turn. As expected, CountessTrier handed her over to Bastian, who approached her without hesitation and offered his hand.
"Let's go, Lady Odette," he said, his voice commanding and confident, overwhelming the commotion around them. Odette, raising her slightly lowered eyes, conveyed her permission by offering her hand.
The moment Bastian wrapped his hand around hers, the door to the great banquet hall opened wide, revealing the emperor's seat.
*.·:·.✧.·:·.*
"Please calm down."
Valerie let out a long sigh, her voice a gentle whisper. Isabelle, her glass held in disappointment, slowly lifted her head to meet her sister's gaze. "I don't need your advice," Isabelle said, her voice tinged with frustration.
"I understand, but how long will you tarnish the honor of the imperial family for a man who has no interest in you?" Valerie asked, her voice filled with concern.
"And who are you to give me this lecture? You were the one chasing after Duke Herhardt not too long ago," Isabelle retorted.
"He is Herhardt, the greatest aristocrat in the empire. You can't compare him to the grandson of a lowly antique dealer," Valerie said, her voice stern.
"Don't speak about Bastian like that!" Isabelle exclaimed, her voice rising in passion. The guests on the terrace, startled by the commotion, all turned their attention to the two princesses.
"Calm down, will you!" Valerie said, her voice firm but gentle. "Have you already forgotten our mother's request for us to show a sense of responsibility worthy of imperial princesses?" Valerie looked around, her cheeks burning with shame at the attention they were getting. But Isabelle was only consumed by her unrequited love, struggling to tame her emotions.
"There's a wonderful time going on between them two, while my sister is crying in the corner." Valerie let out a sigh again, her voice filled with disdain as she pointed proudly through the terrace window. Isabelle's face twisted in pain as she followed her sister's gaze. Captain Klauswitz and the daughter of Duke Diessen, their tall and striking figures standing out in the crowd as they laughed and conversed intimately. It was hard to deny that they made a perfect pair, at least in terms of appearance.
"Bastian is just following the emperor's orders," Isabelle muttered, trying to deny the reality her eyes were witnessing in front of her as she drained her cup. But as she watched, the unimaginable happened. The daughter of Duke Dissen whispered something and Bastian tilted his head and lowered his gaze, their eyes and smiles filled with a warmth that spoke of something deeper like a love poem.
"The fact remains the same regardless of your beliefs." Valerie taunted Isabelle cruelly. "Captain Klauswitz fell in love with lady Diessen. Obviously, no decent man would turn down such a beautiful woman."
"You know nothing. Bastian isn't a naive," Isabelle retorted, her eyes opening determinedly as she shook her head firmly.
Six years have passed. She had solely focused on Bastian from the day she experienced love at first sight. How could she have been unaware of the man she had devotedly loved for so many years? It was never just a selfish illusion.
Isabelle was aware despite whatever she heard of people's opinions. How loyal and decent man Bastian Klauswitz was.
As Isabelle sat alone on the terrace, the weight of her unreciprocated love pressed heavily upon her heart, aching deeply. The sound of her filling her glass with wine was the only thing that broke the silence of the sorrowful spring night.
She couldn't help but wonder, how deep and sad was this love that she couldn't keep hidden? How could the man she loved have chosen to sacrifice his devotion to the empire for the sake of a woman of a lower class? It was unjust, but that foolishly loyal man seemed to have accepted even that.
Perhaps, in his mind, he was using that woman as a shield to protect the princess's honor. The rumors spreading in the social world were enough to cover Isabelle's name and attract public attention. She sobbed, knowing that the main characters of this social season were already occupied by a hero of low bloodline and an abandoned princess's daughter.
But what did the glory that you paid for with your sacrifice mean?
Isabelle's scarlet cheeks were wet as tears continued to flow and race in a torrent of sadness. Through the open window, a lovely waltz music could now be heard. Bastian, holding the beautiful woman's hand, was one of the visitors that made their way to the dining hall's center in pairs.
Isabelle poured another glass of wine, her heart ached with a deep and bitter sadness. Her tears flowed like a stream of water, blurring her vision and soaking her hands, but she had no energy left to care about such trifles.
For the first time, she understood her mother's true intentions in allowing her to attend the ball. She must have hoped that Isabelle would be hurt in the most painful way possible, so that she would finally let go of her love.
Isabelle lifted her gaze, her eyes clouded with tears, and looked at her cousin, who had taken the side of Bastian, the man who should have been hers. The woman, said to be a puppet of the imperial family for money, was disgustingly calm and self-assured, and to Isabelle's dismay, she was also the most beautiful.
As the waltz of the spring night began, Isabelle felt a sense of shame wash over her, sadness turned to a sorrowful weeping, the night only brought unforgiving pain.