Episode 73

The one who played the most pivotal role in arranging the couple’s wedding was none other than Logan Meyer, the capital’s most esteemed secretary. Although the impatient Marcus Hanger gave him a mere ten days, Logan—while cursing under his breath—managed to complete every preparation with impeccable precision.

First and foremost, the ceremony took place at the Hanger estate. Archibald marveled aloud that he had never imagined the simply turfed garden—left untended for lack of a proper gardener—would be put to such splendid use. Logan erected several gazebos across the grounds, leaving the center completely open.

Then came the stone. The pair had the foundation stone brought over from Maine. At first, Elouise tilted her head in puzzlement at the square slab laid at the center, but upon hearing Logan say, “We borrowed the foundation stone from the entrance of the Starwood estate,” her eyes welled with tears.

“Oh, Logan. I should have married you instead.”

Though said in jestful gratitude, had Marcus overheard, he might have rolled forward and backward in dismay. Logan, for his part, merely bowed with a graceful, “It would be my honor.”

As it was early summer, flowers were in abundance. One could say without exaggeration that the Hanger family had swept up every bloom in the capital to fill the venue. Marcus had wished to gift Elouise the most exquisite and costly wedding gown, but she declined, insisting on retrieving the dress from Cliff. It was the very same crocheted lace gown Marcus had commissioned for their sham marriage.

“Whatever you bought me, I’m sure it’s lovely. But if we’re going to turn a fake wedding into a real one, it’s only fitting we make the fake dress real too, don’t you think?”

There was another reason as well. Juliet had adored Elouise in that particular dress. As it was tailored for her slimmer figure in the past, Elouise had to have it adjusted, but she was satisfied. On the morning of the wedding, Juliet’s eyes sparkled as she saw Elouise in the gown.

“A princess…”

Later, Juliet would oversee the reconstruction of the Hanger estate. That grand and splendid house she would name “The Princess’s House”—meant to be Elouise’s home. But that was a matter for another time. At present, Juliet was preoccupied admiring Elouise, her hair elegantly braided and adorned with sapphire earrings.

Marcus, too, was clad in a fine white linen suit. With a matching linen hat perched atop his head, a smile never once left his face throughout the day.

Gloria attributed this blissful composure to one simple fact—“Because they didn’t invite too many guests.” Upon hearing that Marcus Hanger was to marry again, every socialite in the capital had longed—openly and otherwise—for an invitation, but the Hanger family chose to invite only a select few relatives.

“Let’s be honest—how many young ladies would have arrived with daggers in their purses upon hearing that devil’s child was getting married?”

Madam Noskina clicked her tongue as she stepped into the sunlight. Elouise, beaming, reached out to clasp her hand. The old lady eyed her splendidly dressed figure with clear disapproval.

“I tried to stop this once, but I feel even more inclined to do so now. Are you truly serious about this?”

“Of course, Aunt.”

Then Elouise leaned in and whispered something into Madam Noskina's ear. Her previously displeased expression softened ever so slightly. Marcus, curious about what had been said, was only met with Elouise’s coy smile when he asked. Just then, Gloria called for Elouise, and escorted by Logan, she headed in that direction. Left alone, Marcus tilted his head.

“What on earth did she say…?”

“She said, ‘Honestly, I’m marrying him because I like you more, Aunt.’”

“Good heavens!”

Marcus jumped at the sudden voice behind him. There stood the still hauntingly beautiful Evenia Bellona.

Indeed, the Duchess of Bellona had also received an invitation. That day, she wore an unusually modest dress.

Ordinarily, she would have chosen a gown as resplendent as a field in full bloom, but today she donned a somber, deep brick-red silk ensemble—something more suited to dowagers. Marcus scowled the moment he laid eyes on her.

“I was rather hoping you’d fall ill and not show up, Your Grace.”

“And I, for my part, was wishing the same for you.”

The duchess smiled sweetly, despite having just wished the groom ill on his wedding day. Then came a sharp smack to her shoulder—Abigail, arms cradling Quincy and dressed exquisitely herself.

“Evenia~?”

Marcus sometimes thought Abigail might be the most terrifying person of them all. How could she make a mere name sound so threatening?

Even the Duchess of Bellona shrank a little under Abigail’s smiling gaze. Opening her fan with a dramatic flutter, she covered her face and glanced at Marcus.

“My apologies.”

“No need. I was rather rude myself. And likely will be again.”

“I look forward to it.”

A few barbs were exchanged with elegant civility. Marcus gave a genial smile and motioned to the maids to escort Evenia to her seat. He would’ve liked to seat her as far away as possible, but with Abigail nearby, that was out of the question.

Moreover, Juliet hovered near Evenia incessantly. Just as the duchess was moving to another spot, Juliet jumped in excitement.

“Evenia!”

But just as she was about to dash over, Logan stopped her, gently extending his arm to block her path.

“Young lady, no running. You’ll ruin your flower crown.”

Juliet had her daisy crown hooked on her arm. At weddings such as this, had she been a little younger, the niece would’ve served as the flower girl. Somehow, Juliet had gotten it into her head—possibly from something she’d seen—that she ought to scatter the petals.

The problem was, Juliet was a full-grown maiden. Nowhere in the world do seventeen-year-old girls act as flower girls. In the end, Logan compromised by handing her a flower crown instead of a basket.

Elouise would wear no veil or bridal hat that day—only the crown Juliet would place upon her head. Juliet looked down at the daisy circlet on her arm, then back at Logan with a bashful smile.

“Loooo…”

“It’s Logan.”

“Looooo.”

“Logan.”

He had long since abandoned hope that the young lady would learn his name properly, yet somehow, sheer pride compelled him to correct her each time. By now, Juliet was doing it on purpose.

She pursed her lips into a mischievous grin, then suddenly spun around and sprinted off to Elouise. From a distance, Logan saw Elouise laugh brightly at whatever Juliet had whispered. Pouting slightly, Logan turned to do one final check of the grounds—thus missing Gloria’s loud declaration:

“That miser is beyond saving!”

Grumbling, Gloria muttered to Elouise,

“Truly, to destroy a diamond of that size—it will go down in the annals of Deveres history! Our craftsmen practically wept, saying, ‘We can’t possibly do this!’”

She was referring to Elouise’s decision to split the 122-carat royal diamond to make their wedding rings.

When Elouise had first insisted on wearing her old dress, Marcus had joked, “Shall I keep wearing the tourmaline ring, then?” But Elouise had shaken her head.

The reason they had chosen tourmaline originally was because the stone changed color depending on the light—just like Marcus’s ever-shifting moods. When Elouise shyly confessed this, Marcus groaned.

“Honestly, if I could go back in time, I’d grab my past self by the collar and knock some sense into him!”

To which Elouise had replied, deadpan:

“No! You must let him live like a wretched fool!”

“Wretched—”

“Otherwise, we’d never have met again, right?”

She wasn’t wrong. In fact, it was rather touching. And yet Marcus couldn’t bring himself to feel touched—that was his tragedy.

The cutting was entrusted to the Deveres family. When Gloria first heard Elouise’s request to split the diamond, her expression suggested she’d just heard sacrilege.

Most people mourn the tiniest loss when re-cutting a diamond—yet here Elouise was, offering up a massive one.

“You know, if constancy is what matters, we could’ve found you another diamond. Our family could’ve provided the highest quality. Why split this one?”

But Elouise simply smiled and shook her head.

“Without that, it wouldn’t be meaningful.”

In the end, Gloria had stormed off with a shriek of, “Marcus Hanger! If you were going to give her one, couldn’t it at least have been smaller?” Considerable material was lost in the process, but the final ring was truly exquisite.

Elouise held the diamond ring up to the sunlight. It shimmered brilliantly, like a star.

The three Deveres boys giggled as they dashed around the garden.

Guests stood in the sunlight, chatting while sneaking glances at Elouise and Marcus. She was gazing at her ring when she suddenly lifted her head—and there he was, standing beside her.

With a gentle smile, the man extended his hand.

“Shall we go, Elouise?”

“Yes, let’s.”

She looked up at the man who was soon to be her husband.

And in the moment her eyes met his kind, verdant gaze, a profound happiness seeped into her chest. She closed her eyes on impulse. Marcus blinked, then smiled and leaned in, kissing her deeply.

Before the ceremony had even begun, the guests laughed at the sight of the kissing couple.

It was a beautiful season.

As Elouise had hoped, the Starwood estate in Maine would one day be filled with the laughter of children—but that would come just a little later.

<Fin>

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Well, it seems we have reached the end of this journey with beloved Elouise and Marcus. I'm going to miss Juliet running around and causing everybody headaches, my sweet little girl. Also, the part where she keeps forgetting Logan's name has me in tears every time (love us some Logan lmao) Thanks so much for reading this beautiful story, if you could leave a quick like and comment your thoughts I would love to read them~!