It was while she was sitting at the dressing table.
The maid was chattering while brushing her hair. They said that His Majesty the King had arrived nearby. He's quite handsome and young, so you must be really happy to be marrying such a man, Your Highness.
Unlike her impudent tongue, her hands moved quite delicately. Through this, Ophelia realized that she had to meet someone.
She had no desire to deduce who it was. Ophelia tilted her head slightly. She had stopped tormenting herself, but her mind was dazed from not eating or sleeping properly.
The maid grabbed and straightened her tilted head, admonishing her, "You mustn't do that, Your Highness. Your hairstyle will be ruined."
And the girl, a year or two younger than her, took out flowers from a basket on the dressing table.
Ophelia looked into the mirror in front of her. The maid was sticking the blurry, soft flowers into her hair.
Looking into the mirror, Ophelia realized that a corner of the room was shining brightly.
As she gazed into the mirror, Ophelia realized one corner of the room was brightly illuminated.
She turned her head to find the source of that light. The girl doing her hair mumbled something, but it didn't reach her ears.
The light reflecting on the floor was coming from beyond the glass doors of the balcony. Realizing it was sunlight, Ophelia slowly rose from her seat as if entranced. She opened the balcony doors.
Soon, the unfiltered light poured in.
The blinding white sunlight was like deep water. It fascinated anyone who encountered it.
After stumbling around a bit, Ophelia sat down on the balcony railing. From somewhere beyond, the girl yelled something. Ophelia waved her hand to silence her. For a moment, she wanted to bask in the stillness of the sunlight.
The girl in the shadows glared at her for a moment and then went outside. Soon after, soldiers entered the room. They too said something, but it didn't register even if it was unpleasant. Ophelia muttered, "Keep quiet. You're making me want to jump down."
It seemed like the soldiers did as they were told. The shining light was so warm that Ophelia could not see whether they had really closed their mouths.From where she was, the other side only looked pitch black and blurred.
But whether they were silent or not, the noise didn't go away. To shake off the various sounds ringing in her ears, Ophelia lifted her head. The sky entered her vision.
For a moment, her ears felt submerged, as if underwater. After keeping her head tilted back for a bit, she threw herself backward.
Though she clearly did...
Sitting on the bed in the princess's room, Ophelia rested her forehead and frowned.
She was now listening to Idren Sigrasil's nagging. Are you crazy? Why would you jump from there -, the same words rang above her head.
So noisy. What kind of person makes such a fuss?
She thought, ignoring his narrowed brows, pale face, and quick, sharp words. Was he always such a talkative man?
The man who was her husband, but was no longer her husband, seemed to have too much to say.
It was then that one of his words pierced the ears of she who had been waiting for him to just shut his mouth.
"If you didn't want to marry like this, you should have said so earlier. How were you able to endure it because you were so disgusted?”
Ophelia suddenly raised her head at those words, which had a clear hint of sarcasm. EEyes flashing with anger were looking down on her.
Ophelia twisted her lips.
"You say I should have spoken up earlier?"
Idren suddenly stopped when he saw the woman's gaze glaring at him. It was the first time Ophelia glared at him like that.
But wasn't this a reasonable thing to say? Idren crossed his arms and looked down at the small woman before him. Wearing just a thin dress, Ophelia looked more pitiful than he had ever seen her.
This was a woman who didn't even consider clothes like that.
Something surged inside him. Idren tightened his chin. To dare dress the bride like that, after receiving such a sum bride price...
After thinking about it, he realized that he was viewing the situation in a biased way. That appearance was also a decoration in its own way.
Though it seemed to reflect the intentions of her attendants more than Ophelia's own will, the flowing dress and flower petals were certainly meant to be adorned.
And yet, the reason Ophelia looked so pitiful was because she was far too thin.
When he caught the falling woman from the balcony, Idren's heart had literally dropped.
Ophelia was so light that she did not feel like she was a person. Idren realized that he was in reality because he felt extreme fear at the sight of her with her eyes closed like a corpse.
With no time to ponder how such a thing was possible, he had brought her to the princess's chamber. He couldn't even hold her tightly, afraid he might harm her by gripping wrongly.
Her maid opened the door with a face about to cry.
“I’m sorry, the princess has been depressed lately…”
As if that's any excuse.
But even an inept maid was somewhat helpful.
After leaving Ophelia with the physician, Idren questioned her maid. Hesitant at first to answer, the threat of a royal deception charge eventually made her spill something.
"The Princess has been like this for a month now..."
From those words, Idren realized that Ophelia's condition was due to their impending marriage. The finalization of their marriage and the exchanging of the bride price had occurred around that time.
Realizing this, his heart burned with anger.
Idren had to restrain himself from barging into her room and demanding answers. A torrent of questions assailed him. Was she so against marrying me that she tried to kill herself by jumping off the balcony? How could she do such a thing? What exactly was her grievance?
Was one attempt on her life not enough?
Though they had yet to discuss the matter, Idren knew Ophelia was also aware of their future circumstance.
In the past, Ophelia had been perfectly unharmed until the time of their marriage. Had she jumped from the balcony, she would not have sustained an unblemished body.
So at the very least, the Ophelia who had never married him did not try to harm herself in such a way.
Knowing this fact, rage flooded to the top of his head.
Yet all he did was make a sarcastic remark.
He did not misspeak, Idren reassured himself, staring straight at the glaring woman.
It was then that Ophelia abruptly stood up from her seat. She firmly gripped his wrist.
Though her bony hand was like a withered branch, Idren did not shake it off. It was the first time Ophelia had physically expressed such intention toward him.
While he was stunned, Ophelia opened the door and pulled him through.
Right before the door closed, Idren saw glowing blue eyes through the crack. Ophelia looked at him menacingly and said coolly:
"It was you who sent a marriage proposal to my father, not me. How was I supposed to refuse?"
Bang, the door slammed shut.
Only then did Idren blink, realizing he had been thrown out.
Closing the door, Ophelia leaned against it, catching her breath. Her head throbbed.
After taking deep breaths to suppress her rising irritation, she slowly moved away from the door. The balcony, now boarded up with wooden planks, came into view.
Glaring at the firmly nailed shut window from outside, Ophelia sank onto the bed.
The man's sneering voice seemed to ring in her ears.
"If you didn't want to marry like this, you should have said so earlier. How did you stomach being so disgusted all this time?"
There was something Idren Sigrasil did not know.
Her past self had rejected marrying him, over and over. As much as she could, with all her might.
Recalling how all those efforts ended, Ophelia roughly wiped her face. Her eyes suddenly felt hot and stung.
After rubbing her face for a bit, she plucked the flower branches from her hair and tossed them to the floor. As if all her senses awakened, her whole body prickled.
Damn Idren Sigrasil.
She had never felt such strong emotions toward that man before, but now all sorts of anger welled up inside her. Trembling, Ophelia curled up on the bed and covered her face.
Blabbering on without knowing anything.
She was the one who wanted this marriage the most. She had a fiancé, not the King of the North, but with whom she had separately promised to marry.
Ofelia curled herself up and closed her eyes. Transparent light green eyes and walnut-colored hair flickered in the darkness.
She slowly placed a vivid image on it. A smile like an autumn wheat field, warm hands, and a friendly voice were added.
After depicting the beautiful young man's sweetest moment, Ophelia quietly chanted his name. Haslen. A broken voice rang softly in the room.
* * *
Haslen Rackmata was the only son of the Rackmata family.
Ophelia became engaged to him when she was ten years old.
At that time, the Rackmatas were the most influential family in Leden. Though not a royal dynasty, their family had a long history and became wealthy through trading with the inland kingdoms.
Her father, King Dareth Mebasa of Leden, had his eye on the Rackmatas' fortune. Leden's national treasury was too small to satisfy his vanity and greed.
Pondering how to seize the Rackmatas' wealth, the king recalled that his daughter, the princess, was around the same age as Rackmata's only son.
And so he promptly engaged the princess to the Rackmata heir. A purely selfish act, he intended to exploit Leden's custom of requiring a bride price to take the bride.
Thus, the King of Leden calculated the various profits he could reap by selling off his daughter, but failed to consider the impact this engagement would have on her.
As a result, the engagement became a lifeline for the ill-fated princess.
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