Chapter 3

For the next two days, Giselle remained shut away in her room.

Leoric's fever had tormented him all night before it finally broke. When he learned that Giselle had not visited him even once during his illness, he flew into a rage and smashed every piece of porcelain in his room.

Giselle paid it no mind.

Meanwhile, Lythas and his son lavished more attention on Viviana than ever.

One day, they showered her with priceless hairpins. The next, Lythas took her to every silk shop in the capital. On the third day, the three of them enjoyed a lavish feast in the garden, as warm and content as any happy family.

Giselle remained indifferent. She spent her days in her own courtyard, reading storybooks and tending to her flowers, as detached as an outsider who had no part in their lives.

Lila grew so anxious that she developed mouth ulcers, but there was nothing she could do.

Then, on the day of the royal hunt, Lythas and Leoric appeared at Giselle's courtyard together.

Lythas still wore a displeased expression, though his tone had softened somewhat. "You've sulked long enough. There is a limit to how long you can carry on like this. The royal hunt is today, and as my principal wife, you must attend. Change into your riding clothes and come with us."

He paused before he added, "Your health has always been delicate. I'll personally hunt the first deer and have a cloak made from its hide for you."

Leoric stood beside him in silence, his eyes red as he glared at Giselle with a mixture of hurt and fury.

Giselle merely set down her storybook and rose to change into her riding clothes without a word.

It was only when she stepped into the carriage that she discovered Viviana was already seated inside. She wore a peach-pink riding outfit that accentuated her delicate figure and made her snow-white skin appear all the more striking.

Giselle almost laughed.

Lythas had just declared that the royal hunt was an occasion the principal wife was obligated to attend, yet he had brought Viviana along as well.

Did he intend to parade his principal wife before the entire court just to make her a laughingstock?

Lythas noticed her expression and immediately explained, "Vivi has never been to the hunting grounds before. She wanted to see them for herself."

Leoric promptly echoed his father's words. "That's right. Lady Chrysanthe must be terribly bored, cooped up in the keep all day."

The moment Viviana saw Giselle, she rose and sank into a deep curtsy, her manner carefully deferential. "My lady—"

Before she could finish her curtsy, Leoric caught her hand. "Lady Chrysanthe, what are you doing?"

Viviana replied softly, "I may be my lord's mistress, but that doesn't mean I should disregard proper etiquette. It's only right that I pay my respects to the lady of the house."

Lythas frowned, though a trace of tenderness softened his voice. "How many times must I tell you? You may be my mistress, but you're every bit as important to me as Gigi. There's no need for such formalities. You don't have to curtsy to her."

Viviana nodded obediently. When she raised her eyes, however, she cast a seemingly casual glance at Giselle, a fleeting challenge in her gaze.

In the past, such a display would have wounded Giselle deeply. She would have cried, argued, and made a scene. Now, however, she found it mildly amusing. Watching Viviana's performance was far more entertaining than any storybook.

Throughout the journey, Lythas, Viviana, and Leoric chatted and laughed together. Their conversation drifted from poetry to amusing hunting anecdotes, and the three of them looked every bit like a happy family.

Giselle sat quietly to one side and watched the scenery rush past the window, as though she were a stranger who had accidentally climbed into the wrong carriage.

Her complete indifference left both Lythas and Leoric deeply unsettled. It was as though a wad of cotton had lodged in their chests, leaving them stifled and frustrated with no way to vent their feelings. Neither said a word, however. They were determined to see just how long she could keep up this little tantrum.

When they arrived at the hunting grounds, everyone stepped down from their carriages.

Lythas handed Viviana his own bow. "Try this one."

She accepted it and made a tentative attempt to draw the string, but soon frowned. "My lord's bow is far too heavy. I can't draw it."

Her gaze shifted to the small, exquisite bow in Giselle's hands, and her eyes brightened. "My lady's bow looks so delicate and lovely."

Lythas had crafted that bow for Giselle with his own hands many years ago. Its body was made from the finest rosewood, intricately carved with a pattern of intertwined lotus vines. The bowstring was spun from ice silkworm silk gathered in the snowy mountains, and every curve of the bow was smooth and elegant.

Giselle had always treasured it. Yet now, without the slightest hesitation, she held it out to Viviana. "Then use this one."

Viviana seemed taken aback by how readily Giselle offered it. After a moment's hesitation, she reached for the bow, only to fumble her grip.

The bow slipped from her hands and struck the ground with a sharp crack. A piece of its finely carved frame broke off.

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, my lady!" Viviana hurriedly picked up the bow, her eyes brimming with tears. "I didn't mean to! It's such a precious bow, and I'm so terribly clumsy..."

Lythas' expression darkened as he turned toward Giselle.

He knew better than anyone how much she cherished that bow.

Yet Giselle merely spared it a brief glance before she replied in an indifferent tone, "What's broken is broken. I don't care for it anymore anyway. You might as well throw it away."

Lythas stiffened. A surge of inexplicable fury rose in his chest.

He remembered the day he had given her that bow as clearly as if it were yesterday.

She had been so delighted that she could scarcely contain herself. For three nights, she had even slept with the bow in her arms, unwilling to let anyone else so much as touch it.

Later, when a servant accidentally left a barely visible scratch on one of its limbs while cleaning it, Giselle had secretly cried over the damage for an entire night.

And now, Viviana had chipped the very bow Giselle once treasured above all else, yet Giselle could dismiss it so casually? How could she simply declare that she no longer cared for it and that it might as well be thrown away?