Chapter 23
They were unpolished gems.
Beloni rubbed her ring finger as she examined the stones. Even with her limited knowledge of jewelry, she could tell they were all incredibly valuable and of high quality.
“Which one catches your eye, Your Highness?”
“What about you?”
“Hmm.”
Beloni scanned through dozens of gems before her eyes were drawn to one in the corner—a black gem that seemed to absorb all the surrounding light.
Meanwhile, Shanur had also been looking through the gems, his gaze returning to one he had liked from the start.
“I think I’d choose this one…”
“And I…”
Both reached for their chosen gem at the same time, then glanced at each other’s selection.
Beloni had chosen the mysterious black stone, while Shanur had picked a sea-blue diamond.
Their gazes shifted from the gems to each other.
Black hair, black stone.
Blue eyes, blue diamond.
It was painfully obvious why they had chosen their respective stones, making the atmosphere awkward as their eyes darted away.
“Th-that one seems nice,” Beloni stammered.
“No, I prefer yours,” Shanur countered.
Beloni, fidgeting and turning away, took a deep breath.
But the warmth in her cheeks refused to fade, and she felt like she might explode if it continued.
Clearing her throat nervously, she blurted out, “What if we combine them?”
“Combine them?”
She turned back to him, puzzled.
“One side can be the gem you picked, and the other side can use mine,” he explained.
“Is that even possible?”
“There’s little money can’t solve.”
Beloni was impressed. Shanur’s words were something only someone born with wealth and power could say.
They were far beyond anything she could dream of saying herself.
She glanced at him with a peculiar expression.
Shanur noticed and asked, “What?”
“That sounded so… royal.”
“Well, I am royalty.”
Oh, right. That makes sense.
Beloni scratched her cheek and nodded.
When Shanur rang a bell, the butler, Hector, entered with what seemed to be a jeweler. Shanur pointed to the gems they had chosen.
“Combine these into one piece.”
His tone shifted noticeably, and Beloni turned to him. His voice was lower and rougher, more commanding.
It reminded her of the voice she’d heard when they first met. Somewhere along the way, Shanur’s tone when speaking to her had softened, but now she realized the difference.
“Can it be done?”
It was a tone that made it clear it had to be done, no matter what.
The jeweler bowed deeply. “Of course! It’s possible!”
“The timeline is tight. You won’t need extra time, will you?”
“It’s sufficient!”
“Good. Use the rest of the gems for other pieces.”
Beloni widened her eyes in surprise. Were they going to use all those stones?
The jeweler, however, seemed unfazed, likely already informed beforehand. He beamed with enthusiasm.
“Do you need that many rings?” Beloni asked.
“They’re for other accessories, not just rings,” Shanur explained.
“But you already have so many…” she mumbled, genuinely meaning it. Shanur’s collection was already immense.
Shanur shrugged. “Then keep them as emergency savings.”
Who keeps dozens of gemstones as “emergency savings”?
Beloni didn’t argue, though—it was better to have more wealth, after all.
“By the way, do you have a flower in mind for your bouquet?” Shanur asked casually.
Beloni shuffled her feet, thinking. Every time they planned something for the wedding, her heart fluttered.
It was so different from her previous life.
In her past life, Beloni hadn’t been allowed to plan her wedding her way.
The Countess Beckham, her mother-in-law, had dictated every detail.
“You might waste the Beckham family’s wealth.
Why should I trust you? Just listen to me—my word is law.”
Even though the words were unfair, Beloni had endured them. She didn’t want to start her new family life with conflict, believing that treating them well would mean they’d eventually treat her kindly in return.
The Countess had even chosen the bouquet flowers: wilted white tulips from the garden. Their petals were brown, and the stems were broken.
White tulips, symbolizing rejection, perfectly foreshadowed Beloni’s fate—her heartbreak when Ian had an affair.
“If the flower’s meaning affected my life…”
“Statice,” Beloni answered, her face serious as she emerged from her thoughts.
Shanur, about to call her name, repeated the flower’s name instead. “Statice?”
“Yes. It has my favorite meaning.”
“Unchanging. Everlasting,” Shanur said, finishing her thought. Beloni turned to him in surprise.
“What? Surprised I know that?” he asked, smirking.
“Yes. You don’t seem like someone who’d care about flowers.”
Beloni nodded instinctively. Shanur had never shown any interest in flowers, and his personality didn’t suggest he’d be a fan.
“You’re right—I don’t,” Shanur admitted.
“Then how do you know Statice’s meaning?”
Statice wasn’t as common as roses or tulips. Beloni herself hadn’t known about it until she stumbled upon a small flower shop by chance.
“My mother liked them.”
By “mother,” he meant the former empress. Beloni felt a warm glow every time Shanur casually mentioned his family—it made her feel like she was truly part of his life.
“And your mother liked them because…?”
“Because they symbolize something impossible—unchanging things. People long for permanence, even though it’s unattainable. That’s why she loved them.”
“That’s a beautiful reason.”
People desire eternal love, eternal youth, and eternal wealth. Though most things change, flowers and their meanings remain constant.
“Is that why you like them too?” Shanur asked.
“I just…” Beloni hesitated.
“I just suddenly thought of them. I didn’t even particularly like them before. But when you asked, they were the only flowers I could think of. I guess I started liking them at some point.”
“Then let’s use them,” Shanur said without hesitation.
“Really? Statice isn’t a common wedding flower,” Beloni said, surprised.
“Does it matter? You like it, and I’m fine with it. As long as the bride and groom are happy, nothing else matters.”
She did not argue against that logic.
“Thank you,” she said softly.
Shanur turned to her, catching the rosy blush spreading across her cheeks.
He cleared his throat awkwardly.
“From now on, do whatever you want. Time is limited, so don’t waste it.”
Beloni smiled. “Since the marriage has a deadline, I need to be extra careful. If I get used to life as the duchess, how will I adapt after leaving?”
Then don’t leave.
The words nearly slipped out, but Shanur stopped himself, taking a quick sip of tea.
Wait. Do I… not want her to leave?
He glanced back at Beloni, who was still smiling. She tilted her head quizzically—a habit of hers.
“By the way, we’ve heard from Michel. That designer is causing a scene looking for his notebook,” Shanur said, changing the subject.
“Oh, right. It’s about time for him to start working,” Beloni replied.
