68. The Discarded Mistress

The engagement party was a small affair, only inviting a few key figures from the capital.

It was the first banquet held at the prince’s estate in nearly ten years.

The locked doors of the grand hall were finally opened. Servants busied themselves, moving supplies, cleaning, and preparing the space. They carried plates, swept the floors, and unrolled carpets in the circular hall.

I had intended to go to the greenhouse, but watching them fix the carpet piqued my curiosity.

As soon as I entered the hall, all eyes turned to me.

There were narrow, wide, and upturned eyes—dozens of different gazes all focused sharply on me.

Despite the many eyes, it was clear that none held any goodwill. They were wary of me. The attention made my movements stiff and unnatural.

The servant nearest the door, who had just finished polishing a candelabrum, hesitated before gripping it again and polishing it unnecessarily. His hands were tense and rough.

I didn’t want to meet the aimless gazes. It felt like I had stepped into a place I wasn’t supposed to be.

Quietly, I turned and left. Though they had only stared, the atmosphere quickly overwhelmed me, making it hard to breathe.

I didn’t leave my room for days after learning of their engagement.

Still, I had to offer my congratulations. Avoiding her completely would be odd.

I couldn’t stay holed up in my room, reading books to pass the time forever.

I called for one of the maids cleaning the hall. She was a brown-haired girl who sometimes adjusted my dresses.

She followed me into my room and closed the door.

“Is there something you need?”

“When is the banquet?”

“Tonight.”

I knew from the commotion that the event was imminent, but I hadn’t expected it to be so sudden.

“I found out too late. If I’d known earlier, I would have bought a gift and altered my dress. I’ll have to make do. Could you fetch a needle?”

I pulled a dress from the wardrobe, one I had kept for special occasions. It was a beautiful gown, predominantly purple with a gradient that faded to pink from the bottom up. I held it out, but the maid hesitated, her fingers twitching.

“Um, well…”

She hesitated, then spoke carefully.

“You don’t need to alter your dress, my lady.”

I paused, hands frozen mid-fold.

“Why not?”

“There are orders for you not to attend the banquet.”

I felt as if the ground had crumbled beneath me.

“What?”

“I’m sorry, my lady. I was instructed to inform you that you are not to attend,” she said quietly, her eyes downcast.

I forced myself to keep calm, but my hands trembled slightly as I set the dress aside.

“Who gave this order?”

I asked, my voice steadier than I felt.

“The order came directly from the prince,” she whispered.

I turned away, not wanting her to see my face crumple. After a moment, I composed myself and dismissed her.

“That will be all. Thank you.”

She curtsied and left, closing the door softly behind her.

I stood alone in my room, the beautiful dress lying discarded on the bed.

So this was how it was to be. The man who had saved me, shown me kindness, had ultimately cast me aside. He was marrying Isella and I was to be nothing more than a forgotten mistress, kept out of sight.

I sat down, staring at the dress, and let the reality sink in. The festivities and laughter from the hall echoed faintly in my ears, but I was no longer part of that world.

“Me?”

Not just uninvited, but explicitly forbidden from entering?

“Did His Highness say that?”

“Yes…”

A bitter laugh escaped my lips.

The maid, startled by my sudden cold laughter, quickly bowed her head.

I knew it wasn’t her fault. I was upset, but I didn’t want to back down.

“Then, I’ll help with the preparations.”

“That’s not necessary.”

“No, I insist. I’ve been feeling quite bored.”

I closed the book I had left on the bed. I placed it on the desk and stubbornly insisted. The maid’s face showed a hint of discomfort.

“Actually…”

The maid hesitated, then finally spoke.

“We were instructed not to let you touch anything.”

I froze in the middle of pulling back the bedcovers.

A flood of thoughts rushed through my mind.

Am I considered dirty? Or did they realize I wouldn’t change Isella’s wallpaper?

Were they worried I might mess things up out of pettiness or jealousy?

“I see.”

Unable to find an appropriate response, I mumbled.

The maid’s face turned bright red. She seemed embarrassed to relay such a message.

“If you’d like to wear this dress at another time, should I mend it for you?”

Noticing my darkened expression, the maid asked gently.

It was a dress made for a grand occasion. It was too extravagant for everyday wear. The gemstones on the waist made it heavy, and I wouldn’t wear it to a ball where I’d need to dance.

I might never wear it again, but I couldn’t just leave the hem torn in the closet. I handed the dress to her.

The maid took out a small sewing kit from her apron pocket. She unwrapped the cloth, took out a needle, threaded it, and started sewing the torn hem.

She stitched carefully, each stitch drawing the fabric together. Her skilled hands made the dress look new again, the tear completely hidden by matching thread.

But even though the dress was perfectly mended, her words still echoed in my mind.

* * *

Suren had said she’d bring my meal, but there was no sign of her. Time passed, but the door remained closed.

I knew the staff were busy with the banquet, but it was outrageous that they couldn’t even bring me a meal.

She had said she’d bring a simple stew. Was she still preparing the ingredients and cooking?

I stepped into the hallway. I had intended to stay in my room to avoid seeing anyone, but I was too hungry.

Walking toward where the maids gathered, I ended up in front of the banquet hall.

“You cannot enter from here, my lady.”

As I stared at the hall, a guard stepped in my way.

“I know.”

I snapped, and the guard bowed his head.

“I apologize.”

I was baffled by the thoroughness with which they kept me out, as if worried I’d contaminate the place.

Over the guard’s shoulder, I saw two people standing.

On a white table, a precarious tower of champagne glasses stood, filled to the brim. Daon and Isella held champagne in their hands, receiving congratulatory greetings from the nobles.

With the same hand that had pushed me away, Daon wrapped his arm around Isella’s waist. After each greeting, he would lean in and whisper something into her ear. I didn’t need to hear it to know that they were exchanging sweet, affectionate words.

“Can you fetch my personal maid? She has white hair and went out to prepare a meal.”

“Understood. Please return to your room, and I’ll send her to you.”

He continued to block my view and firmly kept me from entering the hall.

“I want you to bring her right now. How can I trust you to do it later? You wouldn’t dare disobey an order, would you?”

Just as I made this small resistance, a group emerged from the hall.

They glanced at me and laughed.

They covered their mouths with ornate fans, but it wasn’t hard to read the smirks behind those patterns.

I recognized their faces. They were young ladies from the Merdi family, whom I had seen at the last banquet.

I tensed up, expecting a verbal onslaught.

But to my surprise, they passed by without a word, their silence more cutting than any insult. They neither taunted me nor mentioned any of my jewelry, as they had in the past.

Ridicule and belittlement are reserved for those you still consider worth engaging with.

I had fallen so far in their eyes that I wasn’t even worth a taunt. I had become invisible, not worth their time.

I had braced myself for sharp words to counter, only to be left feeling hollow.

They treated me as if I were completely invisible. Not just them, but everyone within the estate.

They held the party as if I didn’t exist.

A strange sense of déjà vu washed over me. It took a moment to realize what it was.

I had returned to the past.

Back to the time when I was excluded from everything, force-fed bitter onion water, and kept out of sight.

My mouth tasted bitter.

I trudged back to my room. Inside, Suren was waiting.

“Where have you been?”

She held a plate with a steak, perfectly sliced and neatly arranged. The meat, soaked in sauce, smelled delicious, but I had no appetite. My throat felt tight.

“You haven’t eaten anything, have you? Please, eat before it gets cold.”

“Is this from the banquet?”

“Yes.”

I stared at the plate. The food looked exquisite, but I couldn’t bring myself to eat. The bitter taste in my mouth persisted, reminding me of my place in this house.

I sat down heavily, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on me.

“Suren, what do you think will happen to me?”

She hesitated, her eyes full of concern.

“I don’t know, my lady. But you’re strong. You’ll get through this.”

Her words, though meant to be comforting, felt empty. The truth was, I didn’t feel strong at all. I felt lost, discarded, and completely alone.

But I knew one thing: I had to find a way to reclaim my place, to make myself seen again. No matter how difficult it would be, I couldn’t just disappear.

Suren added mushrooms, roasted tomatoes, and asparagus to the plate. The food wasn’t prepared specifically for me; the fact that she added the vegetables separately made it clear she had sneaked them out.

She must have scoured the kitchen, finding suitable vegetables to complement the steak. I felt a pang of sympathy. If she were serving another lady, she wouldn’t have had to go through such trouble.

After finishing the garnish, Suren set down the knife.

The silver fork and knife on the plate sparkled more than usual.

“You’re the one who’s having a hard time,” I said.

Suren responded lightly.

“I’d like to work harder. Even if you’re not really a mistress, I wish you’d act like one and cause some trouble. If you hit His Highness, I wouldn’t mind being called the maid of an insolent mistress.”

Her playful words made me smile.

I placed the plate on the table. As I sat down, I could see the window clearly.

The banquet hall, of all places, was directly opposite my bedroom. They might have tried to deceive me, but the dazzling lights made it impossible for me to remain ignorant.

How did they think they could hide this from me? Did they think I was blind?

From the banquet hall, the view of the forest must have been stunning. We were looking at the same scene, but our feelings about it were worlds apart.

The crystal chandeliers of the banquet flickered through the densely planted trees. I tapped the candle on the table with the knife, extinguishing it.

As the room plunged into darkness, the view outside became even more vivid.

Resting my chin in my hand, I closed my eyes against the dazzling lights.

Even with my eyes closed, the bright lights danced behind my eyelids.

I took a deep breath and tried to focus on anything else. The reality of my situation pressed down on me like the darkness in the room. I had been excluded, cast aside, and ignored. The weight of it was suffocating.

But Suren’s presence was a small comfort. Her loyalty and the small acts of kindness she showed reminded me that I wasn’t entirely alone.

Opening my eyes, I looked at the plate she had prepared. Despite my lack of appetite, I picked up the fork and knife. Suren had gone through so much trouble; the least I could do was try to eat.

I cut a small piece of the steak and brought it to my mouth. The rich, savory flavor was a stark contrast to the bitterness in my heart.

As I ate, Suren sat quietly nearby, ready to assist if needed. Her presence was a silent reassurance in the face of the blatant rejection I had endured.

The lights from the banquet continued to shine brightly outside, a constant reminder of the world from which I had been so thoroughly excluded. Yet, here in the dimly lit room, I found a small measure of solace in Suren’s company and the simple act of eating the meal she had brought me.