032 Lillian’s Jealousy

The Spring Festival Ball was held outdoors, set in the grand plaza. Magical plants grew with abandon along the edges, blooming in splendid shapes. Countless magical vines intertwined above the revelers’ heads, forming an arched dome, through which one could see the star-studded sky and the first rising crescent of the moon. Flowers bloomed along the magical vines, shimmering faintly with the nourishment of magic, their delicate fragrance gently filling the air.

By the time Theresa and Archil arrived, the moon was already high in the sky. From afar, they could hear the beautiful music drifting from the plaza—the ball was already well underway, and only a handful of stragglers arrived so late. Yet neither was in any rush; instead, they strolled leisurely along the dimly lit path, savoring the spill of magical lantern light from the venue.

“I really don’t see what’s so fun about this sort of thing,” Archil grumbled, clearly displeased. “It’s just dancing and sipping drinks. I’d rather be riding or playing cards. And don’t get me started on having to lug home a heap of flowers and become everyone’s laughing stock…”

A heap? Theresa, ever quick-witted, laughed. “Oh my, it sounds like you’re quite the popular one—to have a whole pile of flowers!”

“They’re not mine,” Archil protested, raising his voice. “Most are my brother’s, and some are Evis’s!”

Theresa arched a brow. “Oh? All your brother’s and Evis’s? Not a single one from your own admirers?”

Archil’s face flushed red, but he had no reply. Clearly, his earlier claim had been exaggerated. Seeing this, Theresa suppressed her amusement, careful not to embarrass him.

After her silent laugh, Theresa, ever the considerate little sister, reached into Archil’s jacket pocket, took out the red rose, replaced it with her own yellow rose, then carefully straightened his collar. At last, she pinned the red rose—symbolizing Archil’s heart—onto her own brooch.

“There, now everyone knows you’re spoken for,” Theresa teased, smiling. “Your sister is quite loyal, wouldn’t you say?”

Archil glanced down at the yellow rose now pinned to his lapel, nodded enthusiastically, and said, “Not bad, not bad—that’s a great idea!”

Amused, the two reached the entrance of the plaza. They had barely arrived before someone burst out from within, grabbed Archil’s arm, and began to complain, “Archil, why are you so late! Huh? Where’s your red rose? Whose yellow rose is this—how annoying!”

As she spoke, the girl plucked the yellow rose from Archil’s chest and made to toss it to the ground. All of this happened so quickly that by the time Theresa realized it was Lilian, Archil had already yanked his arm free, glaring furiously. He bent to snatch the yellow rose from the air before it could touch the ground, fortunately saving it from harm.

He inspected the rose, and, satisfied it was unscathed, pinned it carefully back on his chest, then turned to Lilian in annoyance. “Lilian, why did you try to throw away my rose?”

“And why are you wearing someone else’s yellow rose?” Lilian stomped her foot, and beneath the lights, her eyes glistened with the threat of tears.

“What business is it of yours?” Archil frowned, clearly irritated by her questioning. He turned away, gesturing for Theresa to follow. “Tess, let’s go.”

Only then did Lilian notice Theresa standing in the shadow behind Archil, and she caught sight of the red rose pinned to Theresa’s chest. Her anger flared—she lunged forward, hand outstretched to snatch the rose from Theresa’s brooch. But both Archil and Theresa were ready for her; as she reached out, Theresa stepped back, avoiding her grasp, while Archil blocked her path.

“Lilian, what do you think you’re doing?” Archil growled, his temper frayed.

“Archil, you broke your word!” Lilian shot back, her voice just as low, her expression wounded.

“When did I ever promise you anything?” Archil was baffled.

“I asked you two days ago to be my escort tonight, and you agreed! How could you break your promise?” Lilian’s frustration mounted, and she stamped her foot in anger.

“I never agreed!” Archil protested. “You tossed out the idea and ran off without even waiting for my answer. I even had Evis bring you a message saying I already had a partner. How can you accuse me of agreeing?”

“You… you’re impossible!” Lilian’s eyes filled with rage.

Archil, seeing her on the verge of tears, felt a pang of guilt, but he held his ground, muttering, “How am I the one at fault? I already have a sister—why would I need you as my escort? Besides, I made plans with Tess last week. Why would I agree to you? Really…”

Theresa could lip-read the words “utter nonsense” at the end, and guessed he held back to avoid further provoking Lilian. Yet neither of them could have anticipated what happened next. Archil’s words pushed Lilian over the edge; she lunged at Theresa like a blazing fire, shoving her back two steps. Then, in a flurry of shrill accusations, she let loose:

“What do you think you are, coming here to steal Archil from me? Some so-called sister! Sister, sister… Who knows whether you’re a real sister or something else? Girls like you, I’ve seen them all before—shameless and self-disrespecting. Stay away from Archil from now on!”

Hearing Lilian’s words, Archil felt a surge of fury, his mind exploding with a ringing roar. He strode forward, seized Lilian, and shouted, “Lilian, what are you talking about? Where did you hear all this filth? If you keep this up, don’t blame me for losing my temper!”

“Oh, threaten me, will you? Archil, you’d really go so far for a disgraceful bastard like her?” Lilian, incensed by Archil’s outburst, lost all reason. She threw herself at him, pounding his chest with her fists as she continued to rail, “You fool! You’d shout at me for the sake of someone like her? Go on, I dare you! She’s no decent person—just an unwanted bastard, just like her trollop of a mother, always seducing men wherever she goes, no manners, no morals…”

In the midst of her tirade, Lilian never expected Archil to suddenly let out a low growl and fling her aside with such force that she tumbled to the ground. His eyes burned crimson in the dim light, looking utterly terrifying, his fists clenched and unclenched at his sides as though he were barely restraining himself from striking back…