The servants were in a frenzy at the manor’s back entrance, rushing to complete the preparations for the royal reception. Edward moved through the chaos, seemingly unaffected by the clatter of silverware and hushed whispers. Fiona hurried after him, flinching whenever a senior servant glanced their way, but Edward didn’t even notice.
Once they reached the upper floors of the annex, Fiona moved toward Edward’s door to begin the arduous task of selecting his formal attire. But Edward paused at the threshold. His gaze drifted toward the west wing—the corridor that led to the primary suites of the Vistro bloodline.
"Wait here, Fiona," Edward said quietly.
"But Young Master, the bells will be ringing for the assembly any minute!" Fiona protested.
Edward didn’t reply. He was already walking towards the west wing. Just like every regression, he knew exactly where Sara would say, and he knew the act she’d be putting on.
********
The doors to Sara’s room were slightly open, and the smell of jasmine and fancy powder came out into the hallway. Inside, the room was buzzing with activity. Three maids were gathered around Sara, who was sitting in front of a long silver mirror.
"Oh, My Lady, the light looks amazing on this gold!" one maid said, carefully clasping a necklace they had gotten from the market around Sara’s neck. "The Fourth Prince will be speechless. You look like a goddess."
"It’s true," another maid said, smoothing a strand of hair into place. "The Vistro family will be more famous than ever after today."
Edward stood at the door, his blue clothes standing out against the bright silks and flowers in the room. One of the maids saw him in the mirror and froze. The happy chatter stopped immediately, and a cold, judgmental silence filled the room.
"Is that...the third son?" one of them whispered, loud enough for everyone to hear. "The one from the Abyssal Cells?"
"Yes, but he doesn’t look like it."
Sara looked up quickly. Her eyes met Edward’s in the mirror. For a second, her perfect bride act slipped.
"Excuse us," Sara said, her voice steady even though it was soft. "All of you, please. I want to talk to my brother alone for a minute."
The maids hesitated, giving Edward disgusted looks before bowing and leaving. When the door closed, the room felt bigger, and the silence of the huge house pressed in on them.
Sara didn’t wait. She ran to Edward and hugged him tightly. She smelled like roses and powder.
"You’re out," she whispered, her voice shaking with relief. "I was so worried, Edward. When Father told me he was releasing you for the ceremony, I nearly cried in front of him."
Edward didn’t move. His arms stayed at his sides for a second before he patted her shoulder gently. He could feel her shaking. "I am fine, Sara."
She stepped back, looking at his face, as if searching for the broken brother she expected to see. "I know Father didn’t do it out of kindness. He just couldn’t have the royal family asking why the third son was missing from the engagement of the first daughter. It’s all about the image."
She sat down at her vanity again, playing with the cold gold of her necklace. She started talking, her voice becoming unnaturally cheerful, which made Edward uncomfortable. She talked about the royal family like they were close friends, mentioning the Fifth Princess who was supposed to be with the group.
"They say she’s quite spirited," Sara said teasingly, giving him a fake smile. "Maybe you’ll catch her eye, Edward? Wouldn’t that be a scandal? Two Vistro siblings marrying into the royal family in one year."
After that, Edward walked to her bed and sat down, leaning back to look at the fancy carvings on the ceiling.
A heavy silence suddenly filled the room, overwhelming Sara’s fake cheerfulness. The happily ever after she was trying so hard to create started to fall apart under Edward’s quiet.
Sara’s hand stopped moving. Her shoulders dropped, and the necklace seemed to weigh her down.
"I don’t want to marry him,"
The words were quiet, barely a whisper, but in the silence of the room, they sounded like an explosion.
Edward didn’t look down from the ceiling. ’Here it is,’ he thought. The same confession, the same decision.
"Then don’t," Edward answered.
Sara stood up quickly, her silk dress rustling. "Don’t? Edward, how can you say that? It’s my duty! The Marquisate... our family’s standing in the Seven Kingdoms... if I refuse, Father will be disgraced. The King will be insulted. I am the eldest. I have to—"
She started mumbling, repeating musts and shoulds, twisting her dress in her hands. She was drowning in the expectations of a thousand years of nobility.
Edward stood up. He walked to her, his shadow falling over her, forcing her to look up. His eyes piercing her thoughts.
"If you don’t want to do something, then don’t," Edward said, his voice cold and sharp. "Making excuses and hiding behind ’duty’ just makes you seem weak, Sara. You are choosing your own prison and then complaining that it’s cold."
Sara flinched as if he had hit her. Her eyes filled with tears of anger. "Maybe yes! Maybe I am weak! Is that what you want to hear?"
She stepped closer, her voice getting louder. "But you’re weak too, Edward! You have no mana, you were locked for five days, and you can’t even protect yourself from Damian! We both are! We are just pieces on a game board, and fighting it only makes it hurt more when we break!"
Edward looked at her for a long time. He didn’t argue. To her, he was still a victim.
"Believe what you want," Edward said, turning toward the door.
He left the room, the powdery smell fading as he walked back into the cold hallway.
He then walked toward his room, already thinking about the timing of the ceremony. Sara thought they were both weak. She thought they were both trapped. She didn’t know that while she was getting ready for a wedding, her brother was planning something greater.