The sun had just begun its slow ascent over the grand estate, painting the sky with hues of soft gold and pale pink. The crisp morning air carried the scent of blooming roses, their fragrance weaving through the manicured gardens where Vivian and Leonard strolled in quiet harmony.
Their steps moved in perfect sync, as if they had walked this path together a thousand times before. There was an ease between them—an elegance that spoke of familiarity, as if it was something they had long practiced yet effortlessly graceful.
To the onlookers, they looked every bit the perfect couple. Even Anna and Alaric, who followed a few paces behind, could not help but feel a pang of conflicted admiration. The sight was nothing short of captivating—the way Leonard leaned ever so slightly toward Vivian, whispering something that made her lips curve into the softest of smiles.
It was as if they were an old couple that had done this several times and nothing had changed, as if today was not the day they were to formally end their marriage.
Yet, beneath the practiced grace, the truth lingered like a bitter aftertaste. Their hearts did not move in sync the way their steps did. The unspoken emotions, the fractured trust, and the weight of years spent in silent longing could not be erased by a single morning's walk.
The estate's servants, stationed at various points along the garden path, paused in their duties to watch them pass. Whispers of admiration followed in their wake.
"How perfect they look together…"
"If only the Duke had treated her better from the start."
"They are going to the imperial court today, aren't they?"
A hushed sigh swept through the staff, and even the wind seemed to carry the collective sorrow of those who had served the couple. They had all witnessed the way Vivian had loved Leonard—unwaveringly, unquestioningly. They had seen the quiet pain in her eyes when he refused to return that love. And now, they would bear witness to the final chapter of a marriage that should have been a love story.
At the back of the group, Alaric exhaled deeply as he trailed behind the couple. Unlike the others, he knew the truth. He knew that this divorce was not as simple as it seemed. There was more to Leonard's decision—something deeper, something deliberate. But even he could not say for certain whether it was truly the right choice.
This morning at breakfast had been a tense affair. The weight of unsaid words had hung in the air, thick and suffocating. When Alaric had arrived, he had quickly assessed the atmosphere and decided against joining them at the table. He hated unnecessary drama, and whatever had transpired before his arrival had undoubtedly left the air heavy with tension. Instead, he had taken his meal in the kitchen, where at least the mood was lighter.
By the time he had finished eating, word had already spread that the Duke and Duchess were taking a walk in the garden before departing for the imperial court. He had decided to join them, only to witness the dynamic between them for the first and last time before everything changed.
But watching them now—seeing the way Leonard hovered just slightly closer to Vivian than he normally would, the way his gaze softened when she wasn't looking—Alaric felt a strange unease settle in his chest. Was it even possible for Leonard himself not to go ahead with this divorce as planned?
He turned to Anna, the ever-loyal lady-in-waiting who walked beside him. Her expression was as complex as his thoughts—eyes filled with sorrow, lips pressed together in barely contained anger.
Anna despised Leonard.
She had never been one to hide her feelings about him, nor had she ever pretended to accept his cold treatment of Vivian. She had spent years watching her mistress suffer, knowing that no amount of patience or devotion would thaw the ice around the Duke's heart. And now, after everything, he had the audacity to walk beside Vivian as if he had not been the one to destroy her happiness?
"They look so good together, don't they?" Alaric said, breaking the silence between them. His voice held a teasing lilt, though the weight behind his words was anything but light.
Anna's gaze snapped to him, her eyes burning with frustration.
"Yes, they do," she admitted begrudgingly. "Until I remember that this perfect couple is not so perfect. And that by the end of today, they will no longer be husband and wife."
The bitterness in her tone was unmistakable. The thought of it left a terrible taste in her mouth. Vivian—her proud, flawless mistress—reduced to a mere divorcee. It was unthinkable.
Alaric sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. "You shouldn't be so quick to vent your anger, Lady Anna. Who knows? Maybe in a month or two, they'll be back together. Happier than ever."
Anna let out a sharp, humorless laugh. She knew exactly what he was doing. He was trying to plant a seed of doubt, to convince her to wait, to hold onto the possibility that Leonard had a greater plan in motion.
But she wasn't interested in playing along.
"Oh? And what makes you so certain?" she asked, arching a brow.
Alaric hesitated for a fraction of a second before responding. "Just a feeling."
Anna scoffed. "Well, my 'feeling' tells me that my mistress will not be waiting for him."
Alaric frowned slightly, sensing the steel in her words. "What do you mean?"
Anna's lips curled into a smirk, though there was no humor in it. "The war is ending soon, Alaric. The Archduke, his heir, and the Crown Prince will all be returning. Who knows? Maybe by next month, there will be an invitation to a royal engagement. Or perhaps a marriage."
The words sent a cold shock through Alaric's veins. His easy demeanor faltered, his expression turning slightly pale.
Anna watched him carefully, pleased by his reaction. So even he could see it—how absurd it was to expect Vivian to wait.
Leonard might be a Duke, but he was not the only powerful man in the empire. And unlike him, there were others—others who would not hesitate to cherish Vivian the way she deserved. The Emperor himself had made it clear that he would not allow his only niece to be left adrift. Vivian was meant for greatness, for a position that matched her noble bloodline.
And what position was greater than Empress?
Anna could already see the possibilities unfolding. If Leonard truly let Vivian go, the imperial family would waste no time securing her future. The Crown Prince himself is currently without a partner none betrothed or promised to anyone.
the whole empire knows that the emperor wants his niece around him all the time and believes that she is too precious to be just anyone's bride, the only reason why he did not force the marriage between the duchess and the crown prince back then is because of her happiness and now that the duke and the duchess are finally divorcing, what was to stop him now?
Alaric swallowed hard, his mind racing. He had always believed that Leonard would find a way back to Vivian after this was over. But Anna's words struck a terrifying truth into him.
What if, by the time Leonard succeeded in his plan and realized his mistake, it was already too late?
His gaze flickered to the couple ahead of them. Vivian and Leonard had reached the pavilion now, their conversation too quiet for him to hear. But he could see the way Leonard looked at her—the rare softness in his usually impassive face.
He clenched his fists at his sides.
"Lady Anna," he said, his voice lower now, almost pleading. "Don't be so quick to turn your mistress against him."
Anna tilted her head, her smirk deepening. "Why not? He is the one pushing her away. If he regrets it later, that will be his burden to bear."
On finding out that the duke might have feelings for her mistress, Anna wants nothing more than for him to regret his actions and live his own life in sorrow and regret after all her mistress had gone through in her marriage with him, she will definitely enjoy his pain like a bottle of fine wine.
Alaric cursed under his breath. He needed to warn Leonard. Needed to make him understand that this was not something he could undo at his leisure.
Because if he didn't act now…
Princess Vivian would be lost to him forever.
And the Duke of Valrion would spend the rest of his life drowning in regret.