Chapter 16: Sweet words in high society.

As the carriage arrived at the venue, Cedric stepped down first and offered his hand.

“Here.”

His gentle voice.
Taking his hand, I stepped out of the carriage.

My feet touched the ground.

Lifting my gaze, I was stunned by the grandeur of the venue’s entrance.

A massive stone gate.
Torches lined both sides, flames flickering.

Above, a giant chandelier hung, countless gems sparkling.
A red carpet stretched to the entrance.

Servants stood in rows, bowing deeply.

As expected of a ducal social party.
Such extravagance.

“Let’s go, Amelia.”
“Yes.”

Slightly overwhelmed, I let Cedric escort me inside.

My hand rested on his arm as we stepped forward.
The carpet was soft, muffling our footsteps.

The doors opened.
Inside was even more dazzling.

The venue was already filled with nobles, buzzing with activity.
High ceilings held multiple grand chandeliers.

Paintings adorned the walls, flowers arranged elegantly.
Music played, and people chatted.

Elderly couples nodded to each other, young lords flicked their tailcoats, colorful dresses swayed.
Cedric’s peers entered with partners their age.

Their slim shoulders carried tension and anticipation, trying to appear grown-up.

—In contrast, we didn’t look like peers at all.

Five years apart, and perhaps my mature demeanor made it more obvious.
Among the crowd, we seemed to stand out.

I felt a bit out of place.
Eyes pierced—curious, appraising.

Yet Cedric, unperturbed, said, “Let’s go,” and guided me.
The fact that I was at a social party with my favorite filled my heart.

Joyful.

But I couldn’t shake the feeling that my presence beside him might trouble him.
I didn’t want to stand out in the center of the venue.

I didn’t want to draw attention.
I didn’t want to lower his reputation.

So, I fudged a reason to move to the edge of the hall.

“Um, Cedric.”
“Yes?”
“It’s a bit crowded… shall we move to the side?”

He looked thoughtful for a moment, then smiled.

“Alright.”

He led me to the side, avoiding the crowd, toward the wall.

Here, I could relax a bit.

Soon, Duke Gorn and Lady Isabel stood at the center of the hall.
Both wore lavish attire.

They gave the opening address.

“Thank you for gathering tonight,” Duke Gorn’s voice echoed, low and dignified.

“The Gilbert ducal house is honored to spend this evening with you all.”

The hall fell silent.

Cedric’s older brother, Darius, stood beside a woman, also at the center.
He wore ornate clothes, exuding confidence.

Cedric should rightfully be up there too.

But tonight’s program likely omitted him.
Perhaps his father and stepmother’s decision, or Darius’s maneuvering.

He’d been excluded from the start.

For me, that was convenient.
Less attention.

But to others, it might seem Cedric held little standing in the ducal house.
That stung a bit.

I glanced at him, concerned.
He seemed unfazed, listening calmly to the speech.

I whispered, “Don’t you want to be up there?”

My voice melted into the music.
Perhaps a question I shouldn’t ask, but I wanted to know.

He looked at me immediately.

“I prioritize you, Amelia.”

I widened my eyes.
He continued.

“You don’t want to be up there, right?”

I hadn’t expected him to see through me, and I straightened slightly.

“Well… yes.”
“Then I’m fine here too.”

He smiled.

“I won’t ask why.”

He took my hand.

“But you’re the most important to me.”

—My heart can’t handle his words; it races so easily.

It pounded.

My favorite is too wonderful.
So kind, so handsome.

Someone far better than me should be his wife.

That thought tightened my chest.

As I dwelled on it, the ducal couple and Darius finished their greetings.
The signal for a toast followed.

We took glasses from a servant.
Champagne, golden liquid reflecting the light.

“To the evening.”

At Duke Gorn’s cue, we raised our glasses.
A clink echoed, and mingling began.

Music flowed, people moved.
We sipped champagne by the wall.

But several noble ladies and gentlemen approached.
They all recognized Cedric as “the Gilbert ducal house’s second son,” aware of his delicate position.

Their polite inquiries couldn’t hide a hint of curiosity’s sting.

“Lord Cedric, it’s been a while,” a young man said, smiling.

“Indeed,” Cedric replied with a smile.

Noble ladies approached too.
Young women in vibrant dresses.

They spoke to him warmly, assuming he was unattached.

“Lord Cedric, your attire tonight suits you splendidly.”
“Thank you.”
“I heard you’re top of your class at the academy. Impressive.”
“Not quite…”

Cedric responded humbly.

(…Yeah, he’s popular. I knew it.)

A pang in my chest—less jealousy, more guilt.

If I weren’t here, he could dance and laugh with someone his age.
Without me as his wife, his options would be wider.

Planning to divorce next year, my presence here might be a hindrance.
As I thought this, a lady asked,

“By the way, Lord Cedric, do you have a fiancée?”

I caught my breath.
I’m standing right beside him.

But perhaps my age makes me look like an older sister.
They didn’t think I was his fiancée or wife.

Awkward.

I tried to slip away quietly.
As I stepped back—

Cedric grabbed my hand.

“…!”

His arm wrapped around my waist.

So close.
My heart leapt.

He looked at the ladies and declared,

“She is my wife.”

The air froze for a moment.
Their gazes snapped to me.

My face flushed belatedly.
His hand on my waist, the feel of his fingers, his warmth, our closeness—all hit me in waves.

The ladies gasped, their expressions shifting.

“Oh, our apologies…!”
“We didn’t realize… forgive our rudeness.”

They curtsied hastily and retreated.
Their footsteps light but quick, dresses swishing as they left.

I finally exhaled.
Noticing my burning cheeks, I lowered my gaze.

His hand stayed on my waist.
My temples throbbed with heat.

“C-Cedric… that was—”

My voice faltered.
I whispered, looking up at him.

“I was just showing off my wife.”

His words made me even more embarrassed.
My face, my ears—hot.

“S-Showing off… in a place like this…?”
“It’s the perfect place. Crowded, word spreads fast.”

He’s right, logically.
But his warm hand on my waist overwhelmed my thoughts.

“Um… your hand…”
“Oh, sorry.”

He finally let go.
Air returned.

The moment it did, I regretted the loss, ashamed of my own greed.

“But I’m happy,” he said.
“Happy…?”
“Yes. That everyone knows you’re my wife.”

His words sank into my heart.
Warm. Kind.
But painful.

Am I really worthy of being his wife?

Guilt filled my chest.

For now, I wanted to bask in this warmth.
In his arms, I nodded slightly.