Cornelia Rosenblatt, the daughter of a baron, was first married at the age of thirteen.
With her rich, amber-colored curls and calm, tawny eyes, Cornelia was not an extravagant beauty, but ever since childhood, she had exuded a sense of maturity and quiet elegance that made her a charming presence.
At the time, Cornelia had someone she exchanged letters with—someone she cared for deeply.
That person was Hans, the son of a baron two years her senior.
Their families were of equal standing, and while it wasn’t a marriage that would elevate her status, it was considered a suitable match by both households.
“The white anemones in the courtyard are in full bloom. I wish you could see them, Lord Hans.”
“At my home, bright red anemones are blooming. When we get married, let’s plant many anemones in our garden. I can’t wait, my dear Cornelia.”
It wasn’t a glamorous wedding that would make waves in high society, but Cornelia dreamed of leading a modest yet happy life with Hans.
However, that fragile dream was suddenly shattered one day when she was thirteen.
That day, Cornelia accompanied her mother to visit Count Baritone, a nobleman to whom her father was indebted.
The elderly Count Baritone had taken to his sickbed, and his remaining days were said to be few. Since Cornelia’s father was away in the royal capital, she and her mother went to deliver a gift on his behalf.
And then, the unthinkable happened—Cornelia caught the ailing count’s eye.
The count expressed his final wish: to spend his remaining days in the company of a lively young woman. A few days later, he formally proposed marriage, offering an exorbitant betrothal sum to make his dream come true.
Of course, both Cornelia and her mother refused.
However, her father, drowning in debt due to failed business ventures, proceeded with the arrangement without their consent.
Moreover, Cornelia’s mother was merely his third wife, leaving her in a weak position within the Rosenblatt household.
“Father is cruel! I was supposed to marry Lord Hans! And now… ugh…”
On the night before her wedding, Cornelia sobbed in her room.
“I’m so sorry, Cornelia. I never thought that my status as the third wife would force you to bear such a burden… I’m so sorry… ugh…”
Her mother wept even harder than she did.
“It’s not your fault, Mother. Please don’t cry.”
Understanding her mother’s position, Cornelia had no choice but to accept her fate.
That evening, Gerbera, the daughter of the first wife, visited Cornelia with a wedding gift and reassured her.
0 Comments