What Evelyn hadn't anticipated was that shortly after stepping into the garden, Melody abruptly released her arm, her demeanor shifting to one of icy detachment—as if the woman who had just doted on Werner moments before had vanished.
Though taken aback by the sudden change, Evelyn maintained her composure, her grace unshaken as she followed in silence..
Finally, Melody could no longer contain herself and broke the quiet—but her tone carried a faint, mocking edge.
"Evelyn, it wasn't until today's meal that I realized you're far more formidable than I imagined. Who would have thought a proper lady could truly emerge from such a minor earldom? It seems Werner was rather fortunate—marrying you not only pleased Father but also secured himself a good wife by accident."
Pausing, she turned to scrutinize Evelyn's face, as if attempting to pierce through the woman before her.
"I'd heard before that you weren't well-regarded in the Campbell household, given you aren't the Countess's true daughter. At first, I pitied you, thinking you a wretched thing. But now? It seems the rumors were exaggerated—or else, why would Earl Campbell have groomed you to be the crown princess?"
Melody continued, her voice mocking with skepticism.
"Evelyn, I can see that you don't love Werner. So, I'm curious—since you don't, why help him time and time again? Your ambition must not be small. Is the title of crown princess truly that important to you?"
Evelyn smiled faintly, a touch of weariness in her expression.
She just didn't understand.
No longer did she expect affection or goodwill from anyone. All she wanted was to live quietly, yet people insisted on attributing hidden motives to her every action.
"Princess Melody, not everyone acts with an ulterior purpose." She replied calmly.
Then after a pause, she amended. "Well… perhaps that's not entirely true. I do have one purpose—to live in peace."
Melody's lips curled in derision. "If peace is what you seek, then marrying into the royal family is the last path you should have taken."
"Did I have a choice?" Evelyn countered softly, her gaze distant.
"I couldn't understand why my stepmother was suddenly so generous, arranging for me—not her precious Alice—to marry a prince. After all, it would elevate my status above my sister's. But now I see… she simply knew Werner would never love me."
Her voice grew quieter, edged with resignation.
"She couldn't bear the thought of Alice suffering in a gilded cage, where every smile hides a dagger, where one misstep leads to ruin—or worse, a silent death in some shadowed corridor. But for me? It didn't matter. And the cruelest part is, she was right. The only man who could protect me doesn't even care for me. Of course she wouldn't subject Alice to such a life."
As the words faded, a flicker of sorrow crossed Evelyn's face—raw and unguarded, just for a moment.
Evelyn's voice softened, almost hesitant. "And the reason I help Werner is … perhaps in the future…"
She exhaled, as if steeling herself. "When he's finally free to choose the one he truly loves, he might at least remember that I stood by him. And if he feels even a shred of gratitude… hopefully...then my family and I might have a chance—just a slim one—to live undisturbed."
Melody studied her with an unreadable gaze, then glanced down at her own legs, her smile bitter. "Gratitude? Evelyn, you really don't know my families."
For a moment, silence stretched between them. Then, as if shedding a mask, Melody's demeanor shifted back to its earlier warmth. She tilted her head, eyes bright with silent invitation, and Evelyn took the cue, stepping behind the wheelchair to guide her through the sunlit garden.
The summer air hummed with life, and for the first time, the two young women seemed to relax in each other's company. Melody's voice was light, almost playful. "Before you married Werner, I was terribly curious about you."
Evelyn chuckled. "Because I'm just an earl's daughter?"
Melody's lips quirked, though her gaze remained ahead. "That's exactly what I meant when I said you don't know my families before. The fact that you're only an earl's daughter? That's precisely why Werner chose to marry you."
She adjusted the shawl over her lap, her tone casual yet edged with something darker. "Werner and I were Father's favorites—but for very different reasons. Werner played the dutiful son, pretending he had no interest in power. And me?"
A cold shadow passed over her face. "I'm favored because I'm a daughter. And a cripple."
The word struck Evelyn like a slap. She flinched, unprepared for the raw self-loathing in Melody's voice. For a heartbeat, she fumbled for words—empty platitudes, reassurances—but none felt right. Instead, she reached down and clasped Melody's hand, her grip firm yet gentle.
No words. Just warmth.
Melody stiffened for a heartbeat at Evelyn's touch—then burst into laughter, sharp and bright as shattered glass. She glanced down at their joined hands, her smirk laced with playful disdain. "Seriously? Can't even think a single word of comfort? God, with that wooden tongue of yours, you're more of a man than half the courtiers I know."
Evelyn blinked, then laughed too, the sound light and unguarded. The tension between them dissolved like sugar in tea.
It was strange, she realized.
Melody wore her sharp edges like armor, all cold intellect and calculated barbs. Evelyn played the part of the poised, unshakable lady. But beneath it? They are just girls—barely more than children, really—still soft with the kind of warmth the world hadn't yet hardened out of them.
Melody's smile, for the first time, reached her eyes.
And Evelyn, felt the knot in her chest loosen.