5
At the mention of Eva, the gazes directed at Julian were no longer filled with envy and flattery, but with mockery and a hint of sch
adenfreude.
Julian’s face darkened further. He swallowed hard, trying to maintain a nonchalant expression. “She… dislikes crowds. She is at the
estate, practicing her embroidery…
He clearly wanted to change the subject, but he did so by once again aiming his words at me.
“Speaking of embroidery, Seraphina, do you remember the sachet you gave me?”
“A maidan’s hands weave threads of love, a fragrant pouch for her heart’s desire..” he quoted, a meaningful smile playing on his
lips, designed to spark imaginations. I remember the depth of our feelings back then.”
This time, he had truly infuriated me.
A sachet was not a casual gift. After our engagement was set, he had pestered me relentlessly, begging me to embroider one for
him so he could wear it every day. I had thought, since we were to be married, that making a sachet for my fiancé was only proper.
When the engagement was broken, that sachet became a symbol of a promise that never was.
What I couldn’t understand was why Julian was now so desperately trying to re–establish a connection with me
Naturally, I wouldn’t be foolish enough to admit to it in public
I slammed my teacup down on the table with a sharp crack. “Has the young Lord misremembered? The only one who would embro ider a sachet for you is your wife. Or do you think my family is so easily bullied that you can provoke me time and time again?
in my voice was unmistakable. Even a fool could see I was angry.
The threat in my
But Julian seemed oblivious. He shot to his feet, pulled the sachet from his belt, and displayed it for all to see.
“Look, Seraphina! Surely you recognize this? I’ve carried it with me always! The bamboo on it, you stitched it needle by needle. You
said you hoped I would rise high and remain resilient-
Just as I was about to lose my temper completely, a wave of laughter erupted from the crowd.
I looked closely at the sachet, and even I couldn’t suppress a smirk.
There, stitched in fine red thread, were two crooked, clumsy characters spelling out the word: “Eva.”
It was obvious who the artist was. Eva had spent her life under the thumb of her brother and his wife, doing hard, rough labor from dawn till dusk. She would have had no time for delicate work like embroidery. She must have learned those two characters after
entering the Blackwood estate.
Julian, still unaware of the mocking stares, was stroking the sachet, his gaze fixed on me with deep and focused affection.
“Seraphina, now that you’re back, you won’t leave again, will you? All those years we had together… the truth is…”
To prevent him from saying something even more compromising, I quickly cut him off.
20
“The young Lord is mistaken. While I was taught needlework by my mother from a young age, in the face of such a masterpiece,
must concede defeat.”
Isabelle was the first to clap, letting out a peal of laughter. Many others quickly joined in, creating a chorus of amusement. Even
those who relied on the Blackwood’s patronage let out short, choked chuckles.
Julian’s intimate words died in his throat. He looked around at the laughing crowd in confusion.
Isabelle’s voice was just loud enough for everyone in the hall to hear. “The young Lord of Blackwood certainly has… unique taste. A
sachet like that is truly not something an ordinary person could create. No wonder he is so devoted to his wife. It must be her part-
icular… talent!”
are true.”
Someone immediately chimed in. “They say Lord Julian dotes on his wife. It seems the rumors are
“The stitchwork is certainly one–of–a–kind. Not something we common folk can appreciate.
“He must adore it, otherwise why would he wear it so proudly? My own wife’s embroidery is merely average, and I certainly don’t
have the courage to display it for all to see. I am not as devoted a husband as the young lord, it seems.”
The realization finally dawned on Julian. He brought the sachet up to his eyes.
In an
instant, his face went from red to ashen, then to a deep, dark fury. The hand holding the sachet began to tremble.
“No, not this one. The one I always wore it was clearly…”
Clutching the sachet, Julian’s mouth opened as if to explain. But before he could speak, another servant announced a new arrival.
The Lady of Blackwood has arrived-
The laughter died instantly. All eyes turned to the doorway.
Even I felt a flicker of curiosity.
A few moments later, a woman dripping in jewels and pearls, supported by a maidservant, walked in.
Eva’s head was a thicket of gold hairpins and gemstone ornaments. They flashed so brightly under the light that it was hard to keep one’s eyes open. It was as if a golden idol from the royal temple had come to life and walked into the room.
I turned to Isabelle, finally understanding the strange amusement in her earlier smile. Eva was from a humble background, and having suddenly come into immense wealth, she seemed determined to wear every single piece of it on her body at once.
She took a few steps forward, the ornaments on her head chiming with every move. The sheer weight of them made her shoulders
tremble.
Isabelle leaned in and whispered, “She made a fool of herself just like this at the Queen’s birthday banquet. And she’s wearing event
more today than she did then. She must have done it specifically to show off for you!”
I curled my lips into a slight smile, my gaze shifting to Julian. He was crushing the sachet in his fist, his eyes fixed on Eva with a
look of pure loathing and fury.
Eva didn’t dare meet his gaze. She gave her clanking gold and jade ornaments a little shake, offered Isabelle a stiff curtsy, and then.
turned to me with a forced smile.
“Sister, you’ve returned! It’s been so long. You must come visit me at the Blackwood estate sometime.”
At the mention of her new home, a flash of pride crossed her wide eyes.
Looking at her now, the last vestiges of my own resentment melted away. This garish, insecure woman was not worth a moment
