22. The Stepmother’s Sweet Words—I Will Find My Happiness
The wedding was a magnificent affair.
The Royal Palace’s Grand Temple was used for the ceremony—a place that I, a mere count’s daughter, should never have had the chance to enter in my entire life.
My father-in-law, who serves as a diplomat at the palace, has an astonishingly wide circle of connections… In contrast, the guests our family invited were mostly new acquaintances my father had made since starting his business. The only people I knew personally were my three dear friends.
My stepmother had no friends in attendance either. I met the Baron and Baroness Dohén for the first time, and they sent me off as their granddaughter.
I felt I could understand where my stepmother’s kindness came from. Having been raised by such a father and mother, it was impossible for her not to be kind.
Today, as was proper, my father was my escort. I was in the antechamber, wearing my wedding dress and looking in the mirror, when a knock sounded on the door.
I turned to see my father standing there, looking stunned.
He mumbled something in a small voice, but I couldn’t hear it. But he swallowed the words and, with a resolute expression, offered me his arm.
“…You are so beautiful, Sheryl.”
“Fufu, I take after my mothers.”
My real mother, and my stepmother. Both of my mothers are beautiful.
The resentment in my heart has not yet completely faded. Of course it hasn’t. The harsh words that were drilled into me for so long—that I was unattractive.
And yet, there were her words on the night I returned to announce my marriage. The tears I shed, and my stepmother’s words, as if to make up for a lifetime, “My sweet Sherrie.”
She had told me I didn’t have to forgive her, that I could blame her, but I had no intention of clinging to the past.
There would be times when it would still sting my heart.
My father’s attitude, my stepmother’s words, the difference in how Jule was treated.
It was all distorted. But within that distortion, I had received an abundance of love.
It was in the money my father earned.
It was in my stepmother’s sense of style, and the way she praised me to help me grow.
It was in the words and smiles of my younger brother, who, unlike me, was raised with straightforward affection and grew up to be a fine young man.
With my hand on my father’s arm, I stood before the doors of the temple’s sanctuary. The double doors opened, and there before me was Hugues, the man who would now be my family… my husband.
His golden hair shimmered in the light pouring into the grand cathedral, as beautiful as the day I first met him.
His bright green eyes were turned toward me, smiling gently, waiting for me.
I walked slowly down the virgin road with my father. One step at a time, careful not to tread on the hem of my dress.
“Father.”
“…”
“I love you, too. But my husband will always be first… Thank you for ensuring I never faced any hardship.”
“…It’s alright. For everything… I was so sorry. Be well.”
“Of course, I will.”
We exchanged those quiet words, and then I left my father’s arm and was passed to the arm of my beloved.
A beautiful boy. Now a handsome man, one to whom I could entrust my everything.
From the corner of my eye, I saw my stepmother.
I smiled at her.
‘My sweet Sherrie.’
Mother, I will take those words with me, and I will find my happiness.
We spoke our vows, and Hugues and I sealed them with a kiss.
To love each other, in all times, forever. To seal those words within our hearts.
[Raised by My Stepmother to Believe I Wasn’t Cute, Until I Was Doted On By the Duke’s Son – End]