Chapter 62: Unladylike

Chapter 62: UnladylikeThe Next Day The dining hall was silent. The only sound echoing through the room was the clinking and clanking of cutlery against porcelain. After yesterday’s incident, no one dared to become the king’s scapegoat. They had all learned their lesson—not to do anything foolish. "It feels far too soon for you two to be leaving," the old lady said gently. "And knowing you won’t visit again for a long time... it saddens me." Ariana wore a cream floral dress that had been brought in that morning. It was much lighter than yesterday’s. She guessed Zavren had something to do with it. But then again—how did he know that was exactly what she liked? "We might visit again," Zavren replied calmly, drawing all eyes to him. The old lady chuckled softly. "When next? In my grave?" she asked with a smile. Zavren’s lips curled into a slow grin. "If that is your wish, then so be it," he said coolly. Everyone turned to stare at him—including Ariana. Her eyes met his, firm and steady. The old woman’s gaze lingered on Ariana before shifting to Zavren, a knowing smile playing on her lips. She knew exactly what kind of man he was. Under the table, Ariana slid her hand onto Zavren’s lap. He stilled slightly, waiting for her next move. Then—she pinched him. Hard. His eyes widened faintly as he turned to look at her. She met him with a sharp, silent glare that clearly said: Be nice to her. The old lady, who had caught the brief exchange, couldn’t help but laugh. Heads turned toward her as Lord James, her eldest son, asked with mild curiosity: "Mother, you seem to be enjoying something. Care to share it with us?" Their gazes moved to the old woman with curiosity. For her to laugh like that without a reason meant something must have happened—but what? The lady moved, picking up her glass of water. "And why should I?" she asked quietly, and the hall fell silent. As usual, Lord James’s wife smiled softly. She gently brushed her fingers over his shoulder, giving him a silent nod before placing a piece of food on his plate. He shifted slightly, moving the plate away from her hand. No one noticed—except Ariana. She guessed the lady herself noticed it too and was simply pretending she hadn’t. Ariana eyed the man closely. The woman had shown support—so why was he acting that way? The question lingered in her mind. Then her gaze met the lady’s. The woman looked away quickly, offering a forced smile. ’Ah... I see. Perfect couple. You two really made a good match,’ Ariana thought to herself with a touch of sarcasm, catching the faint tension in the woman’s expression. "Since you have no reason, then I’ll keep it to myself," the old lady spoke. Ariana attention shifted again—this time to the third lady at the table, the quiet one. She looked about nineteen, yet remained calm and composed, her gaze lowered as she quietly ate her food. Still, Ariana could tell something was wrong. She recognized that posture—that carefully constructed act of normalcy. Something was definitely off. With a soft sigh, Ariana turned back to her own meal, chewing in silence as Zavren occasionally placed bits of food on her plate without a word. *** Zavren and Ariana walked in silence through the hallway. Zavren halted, and Ariana stopped as well, turning to him. "Do you want to go for a walk around? I’d like to check on our carriages, make sure everything’s ready," he said, his voice calm. Ariana nodded quietly. She knew the way to the garden—it was outside, in the opposite direction of the castle gates. "I’ll meet you at the garden once I’m done," Zavren added, his eyes resting on her. Ariana looked up at him and nodded again, calm as ever. His lips curved into a calm grin. But just as she turned to leave, he reached out and gently held her wrist. "Oh, my wife... not even a good luck kiss?" he teased. Her eyes widened in disbelief. G-Good luck what? She wondered. This man must be kidding. He wasn’t even going anywhere far! Before she could say another word, Zavren leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. Her body froze. The warmth of it exploded in her chest—not like a raging fire, but like slow, fluttering fireworks. Light. Feathered. Unexpected. She hadn’t seen it coming at all. Zavren’s lips curved into a satisfied smirk. He had noticed her pulling away since morning—waking up early, replying with curt nods, barely looking at him. He’d deal with that later. Right now, he had one goal: getting them home safely. Then, he would settle whatever it was she was running from. "I’ll be back. Don’t miss me too much—I know I’m too irresistible," he said. Ariana turned away, her face flushing hard as she rolled her eyes playfully at his words. She walked quietly through the hallway, admiring each painting as she passed. They were pretty—it was like the lady of the house was into flowers. Most of the paintings were either splashes of vibrant colors or various kinds of blooms. Ariana tried her best not to get too close or touch anything—not after the last incident with a painting. She definitely didn’t want to break anything again. If she breaks something, who knows what her next name might be..The Clumsy Queen. Suddenly, her body moved backward as she bumped into something—wait, someone. Her eyes widened. Or... was it the person that bumped into her? She turned, only to see the third lady—the quiet one. Her gaze was lowered. "I apologize f-for my rashness, my queen," the lady spoke. Ariana’s eyes widened. Her voice was breaking—was something wrong? The lady moved quickly, but Ariana reached out and gently held her hand, stopping her. Her head remained lowered. Ariana gently let go, and the lady quickly moved to the large door not far away and entered. Concern flickered across Ariana’s face—something was definitely wrong with the girl. Was she okay? She hesitated, worried. Was this really her business? Even so, she couldn’t just walk away without checking. Taking a deep breath, she walked toward the door. She raised her hand and lightly knocked. Silence. She knocked again. After a moment, the door finally creaked open. The lady stood there. Without a word, Ariana stepped inside, and the door quietly closed behind her. Ariana’s gaze rested on her hair—light brown, so soft and pale it could easily be mistaken for the gentle shade of camel. Her hair covered part of her face as Ariana noticed her clenched hands and quivering lips. She wore a light purple gown that matched perfectly with her skin. The lady finally raised her face, and just as her eyes met Ariana’s, tears began to pour. Ariana’s eyes widened as she stared at the girl whose shoulders trembled, her dark hazel eyes glistening with tears. Ariana stepped forward and pulled her into her arms. The girl clung to her, sobbing—the sound of her soft voice echoing through the room. HIC HIC "M-My Q-Queen, I... I’m sorry, I..." Her words trembled between sobs, her breathing ragged and uneven. Ariana gently patted her hair, brushing it back slowly. She didn’t know, but the moment the girl saw her, her walls broke. The broken shell she had tried so hard to patch up finally shattered, and she cried uncontrollably. "I feel so... unladylike," she sniffled, pulling back slightly as her body began to calm. Ariana understood. They were trained to suppress their emotions—at least, that’s what they were told. But that wasn’t right. They should be allowed to express themselves. Every emotion mattered. Her gaze softened as she shook her head, eyes warm with silent understanding. A faint smile touched the lady’s lips as her eyes watered again. "I am Lady Stephanie. I—I..." she paused, lips pressing together before finally continuing, "I don’t want to marry him." She quickly wiped her face, trying to compose herself. Ariana’s lips tugged into a small frown. Was she being forced to marry someone against her will? "I don’t want to seem inconsiderate or like a stubborn child just because I’m the only child... b-but I can’t marry him," she said softly, her gaze shifting to the side. Only child? Ariana raised an eyebrow. The girl noticed her curious gaze and explained, "I am my great-grandmother’s greatest grandchild. But we all just call her ’Mother’—she doesn’t want to feel too old." Ariana nodded. ’No wonder,’ she thought to herself. "He visited here a few times, and trust me, my queen, I never imagined that he would be my f-future... h-h-husband." She bit her lip softly as Ariana felt the lady’s body shudder—what she could only guess was disgust. Suddenly, she stood and walked to her wardrobe, pulling out a small towel. Then she headed to the library corner of the room, retrieving a book from the shelf. It was only then that Ariana began to take in her surroundings. The papers plastered on the walls beside the bed were filled with musical notes. ’She must have a liking for music—it was all around her.’ Stephanie moved quickly to her bed, trying to straighten it in a flurry of nervousness. "Please, have a seat, my queen," she said politely. Ariana nodded she walked as she sat down gently on the edge of the bed. Stephanie handed her the towel. "My tears have stained your dress. Let me—" She stopped as Ariana shook her head and took the towel herself, dabbing at the wet spot quietly. Then she patted the bed, gesturing for Stephanie to sit. The young lady obeyed, lowering herself beside her. After a moment, Stephanie handed Ariana a book and a pen. "My queen... is it okay if I talk to you a little?" Ariana nodded, accepting the book and pen. She opened it and began to write as Stephanie patiently waited. Then, Ariana gently handed her the note. Stephanie’s body stiffened, eyes widening in shock as she read what Ariana had softly written: Are you planning to escape?