To My First Love, With Regret (Libenia) Chapter 48

Everyone took their seats, and the reception began. After the meal ended, the clear ring of a teaspoon striking a champagne glass echoed through the grand hall. It was the signal that before the evening began, the groom would give a welcoming speech.

But it wasn’t the groom who rose from the head table—it was the bride.

Eve found the guests’ bewildered reactions amusing.

What are you all surprised about? This is my house. That man is nothing but a leech.

She was still the Kentrell Maiden. Not a doctor’s wife.

“I sincerely thank everyone who has shared this moment with us, despite the difficult wartime. We should have held a more lavish reception, but I could not flaunt my joy while the country is in mourning. I hope this modest gathering can nevertheless convey our gratitude.”

The guests, applauding her words full of aristocratic duty and dignity, had no idea that the bride had no intention of spending a single penny of her fortune on this marriage—and that the family’s affairs were crumbling like a cliff being eroded by the sea. She had given a speech using the war as a cover, and sat down.

The groom stood next, but his speech was short and formal. Unexpected. Eve had expected that pair of leeches to secretly turn her wedding into theirs.

For example, he could have declared passionate love to the bride and sworn eternity to her—and the guests would think the bride was Eve, when in fact it would be Chantal.

Chantal was capable of such a shameless stunt—but the doctor didn’t seem to have reached that level yet.

Then came the toasts from the groomsmen and bridesmaids.

“I want to raise a glass to Mrs. Callas, who has made my dearest friend, Owen, the happiest man in the world.”

The groomsman called Eve “Mrs. Callas.” At that moment, not only Eve’s face turned to stone—but also Chantal’s, sitting across from her.

Next, the maid of honor rose. She knew all the ins and outs of this marriage. Emily Sutherland—who had remained Eve’s loyal friend and had become her indispensable assistant over the past decade—wished happiness only to Eve, in an ambiguous and subtle tone.

When the toast ended and Emily sat down, Eve gently squeezed her friend’s hand. Just as they exchanged heartfelt smiles, the butler approached cautiously and whispered in her ear:

“I’m terribly sorry, my lady, but an issue has arisen that requires your decision.”

Eve rose and stepped aside with the butler to a corner of the banquet hall. Hidden behind a pillar where no one was present, he reported in a lowered voice, as if conveying something shameful:

“Ethan Fairchild has arrived at the mansion.”

“Ha, so he did. Did he say he wanted to meet with me?”

“No.”

“Then?”

What business could that bastard have with me at White Cliff Hall?

“He said he’s here to move into the officers’ quarters.”

“What?”

Ethan was going to live in my house?

“If he was on the list, you should have told me.”

The butler couldn’t possibly not know who Ethan Fairchild was.

“I apologize, my lady, but he wasn’t on the list. However, he just arrived, presented this letter, and claims to have permission to reside at White Cliff Hall.”

Eve unfolded the letter that the butler pulled from inside his coat. It was written on behalf of Lieutenant Colonel Vance, commander of the Littlewick airfield—the temporary Air Force base in Cliffhaven.

“Please allow Major Ethan Fairchild, a key asset of the Mercian Air Force, to stay at the mansion during his service in defense of the country.”

The further she read this official letter—politely worded yet containing unheard-of audacity—the more her hands trembled.

“Is this definitely from Lieutenant Colonel Vance?”

“I confirmed by phone.”

“Good heavens…”

Did that man not know about the enmity between Ethan Fairchild and the Kentrells? And even if he did, he might have been powerless. After all, his opponent was a gang leader who wouldn’t hesitate to riddle the lieutenant colonel’s house with bullets.

“I politely tried to persuade him that there were no rooms available, and that the ducal family would pay for his stay at the Hotel Le Mer—but he demands one of the rooms in the south wing, since there are many vacant there.”

The south wing, with its sea view, was the Kentrell family’s private territory. For the children, the mansion was a vast playground—and the man who had once been her childhood friend knew its layout and customs perfectly. Including the fact that outsiders were never housed in the south wing.

Ethan Fairchild—what the hell are you doing?

He’d always been a bit brazen—but he wasn’t a shameless thief.

Though, ten years was enough time to become a thief.

But what the hell is he trying to steal, forcing his way into his enemy’s house like this?

“He needs to be thrown out.”

“But if we do that, it might be misinterpreted as insulting an officer and ignoring the commander’s request.”

“I know. Ha… My head is splitting.”

If his target is this mansion, no amount of persuasion will work. Still, she couldn’t help but try to talk to him.

“I’ll go speak with him myself.”

She dismissed the butler and explained to the curious guests the reason the bride had to leave the reception.

When she said that issues related to housing officers at the mansion had arisen, everyone praised Eve’s generosity. Thus preventing rumors, she was about to leave the banquet hall when a commotion arose at the entrance.

“I said let me through while I’m asking nicely. This is your last warning.”

“Major, I’m sorry, but this is a private reception for the Kentrell family. You cannot enter without an invitation.”

The security was blocking Ethan Fairchild, who was trying to force his way into the banquet hall. Eve quickly approached and stood before him.

“Let’s step outside and talk.”

Contempt was her prerogative—but he gave Eve a contemptuous look and smirked.

“I didn’t come to exchange pleasantries with the Lady. I want to enjoy the party—but they say I can’t without an invitation. So, Lady—won’t you invite me?”

Was there a woman in the world who would invite her ex-husband, who had abandoned her, to her wedding? Eve, barely suppressing the tremor in her voice from rising anger, snapped:

“Why are you trying to force your way in here?”

He had humiliated her—but Ethan twisted his face as if he were the one humiliated, and ground out a sly smile.

“What? Afraid I’ll ruin the Lady’s wedding?”

How dare he call her a coward? Eve answered this cheap provocation with an arrogant chill.

“I’m not afraid of you. I’m ashamed of you.”

The instant she said it, the oily grin completely vanished from Ethan’s face.

Ashamed of me? Ah, right—that’s why you abandoned me. Damn it. I’m even more ashamed of your hypocrisy. This great world you stand on—it’s actually hanging on the edge of a cliff. I’ll destroy it myself and show you.

The guests watched the incomprehensible exchange at the entrance with interest. His low voice, echoing through the hall, sounded familiar—and they froze in shock.

“Imagine! The great Kentrell family begrudges a glass of champagne for an officer risking his life on the front lines to defend the country! What baseness!”

Ethan looked directly into Eve’s eyes—which, having seen through his scheme, grew even colder—and sighed dramatically, loud enough for all the whispering guests to hear:

“Ah, I heard the family’s fortunes have fallen so low they even had to sell that famous Laurel Tiara. The Lady couldn’t wear the tiara that rightfully belongs to her on the wedding she’s dreamed of her whole life—so of course she’d begrudge a glass of wine for a soldier? I understand.”

How did this bastard know my share of the inheritance was sold? What’s more, he’d announced it in high society—exposing to everyone that the Kentrell fortunes were in dire straits.

If she didn’t let him into the banquet hall, the Kentrells would indeed become a family with nothing but a shell—one that didn’t even have money to offer wine. If the rumors reached financial circles, it would harm investments and business.

Eve looked at yet another venomous snake that had finally slithered into this mansion with a gaze that wanted to tear it apart—but she turned away and ordered the butler:

“Find him a seat.”

The butler, understanding, seated the uninvited guest far from the head table and the important guests. When the commotion died down and Eve returned to her seat, the wedding cake cutting ceremony began.

Cutting the cake with one knife together with Dr. Callas, Eve didn’t look even once in Ethan’s direction. Whatever his goal, she’d already taken enough of his bait—and she wasn’t going to give him any more openings.

But since Eve didn’t give him openings, Ethan created one himself.

“Attention.”

While everyone was eating cake, he stood alone with a glass of champagne and offered a toast.

“Distinguished guests.”

Was this a habit? The prince of the criminal underworld began his speech like a criminal before a judge.

“I, Ethan Fairchild, have come here as the first husband—to grace Lady Evelyn’s second wedding.”