The Marchioness's expression instantly turned grave. Her fingers dug into her handkerchief, but she forced her lips into a tight, strained smile. "Daughter... this is Kavien. He is your adopted groom, not your brother."
"Ah!" Heena gasped softly, looking back at Kavien with an apologetic, completely mocking gaze. "I am really so sorry. You called her 'Mother' with such profound devotion, and you spoke to me with such big, authoritative words... I truly thought my parents had just gotten me a little brother while I was away. My mistake."
She raised her hand in total nonchalance, completely brushing off the eldest groom's authority. Kavien's jaw tightened, his face flushing with a mix of anger and humiliation as the other three grooms—Wilbur, Larus, and Veer—watched in stunned, tense silence from the side.
Suddenly, a frail, trembling voice broke through the ambient chatter from the front row of the guests.
"Is it... is it really you, my baby?"
