Chapter 4: The Unkept Promises of Levanfell

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Today again, he will not come.

Olivia sighed. The tea had long gone cold. It was already half- past three.

Wednesday at 2 p.m., a cup of tea in the outdoor garden of the Crown Princess's palace.

Despite having been designated an official appointment three years ago, the times Levanfell showed his face could be counted on one hand in a year.

When he broke the promise, it was all to send a splendid bouquet of flowers or jewels one or two days later. A few weeks ago, a card was added to the bouquet.

I regret it, Princess. A meeting came up suddenly.

I couldn't go because the conversation with an old friend took longer than expected.

I'm sorry I couldn't see you because I had a headache.

Olivia shrugged her shoulders. But the disappointment did not disappear. It was like this every time. Alone in expectation, alone in disappointment. Again expecting, again, disappointed.

From a distance, the maids' glances stung.

Even though she collected an indifferent expression, she could not escape the sharp looks as if seeing prey, especially the look from Countess Cheize, who had become the Empress's chess piece two months ago.

Last time, she was criticized for not being able to capture the Crown Prince from the Empress. She could no longer be blamed.

Today, she really wanted to see Levanfell. Her betrothed, whose smiling appearance was exceptionally charming.

She was annoyed but wanted to see him again. After all, no matter how much Levanfell made Olivia wait, she could never hate him.

Since she was nine years old, Olivia liked Levanfell.

"Become the Crown Princess."

That day was Levanfell's eleventh birthday. The Duke spoke sharply, like a blade, towards young Olivia.

"You're not so stupid that you can't even do that one thing."

The Duke's eyes narrowed. Like when his mother looked at meat in the market, judging its worth, Olivia's heart plummeted.

"I can do it!"

Although she didn't understand the Duke's words, Olivia responded forcefully.

It was the first time. The Duke spoke to her first.

If I do well, won't my father continue to speak to me? Expectation swelled.

But that expectation was brutally shattered when she entered the dazzling ballroom.

"You're that Madelleine's bastard?"

Her head went blank. The cruel words of the children continued.

"They say the Duchess died because of her?"

"Yeah! My mom said the same."

"Why is a non- blood royal here?"

How that moment passed, she chose not to remember. That painful scene was saved by a word from Levanfell, beautiful like an angel.

"What a pretty name. Olivia."

Now twenty, Olivia clearly remembered the gentle smile of the eleven- year- old Levanfell. A true angel who appeared where no one else would help her.

Since then, Olivia liked Levanfell. For eleven long years.

So, even when he made her wait like this, Olivia endured. Someday, really soon, if she did her best, Levanfell would look at her again, she believed.

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