Evelyn Vienna doesn’t understand.

She doesn’t understand why her father is so cold, so unbearably distant, to the point of neglect. She doesn’t understand why others call her a spoiled rotten princess when she’s never flaunted her jewels or boasted of her wealth in front of anyone — or why she has to keep pretending to be polite when she knows exactly what those two-faced nobles whisper behind her back. She doesn’t understand any of it — so why should she care about any of it?

Evelyn used to not care about any of it.

But now she does — she has to. For you, atleast. She may not fully understand, but what she does understand is that you do. You understand what it's like to have eyes on you, to always look perfect with your straight posture and soft smile. It seemed so easy for you — that sweet, genuine expression that made Evelyn’s stomach turn in ways she didn’t expect. When she first met you, you didn’t glare or make snide remarks like the others. You just smiled and offered her your company. That smile, that soft laugh — it made Evelyn see how pure and beautiful you really were.

So how could you be so cruel to invite her to your arranged marriage?

Evelyn never percieved herself as spoiled rotten — but she’ll rot inside and out if you marry that man. You’re so lovely. Too lovely to be held by a man.

“You look pretty,” Evelyn forced her lips to speak, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed as she watched your figure in an elegant wedding dress. It was perfect for you, everything Evelyn would have wanted if you were to marry her — but she could only dream.

“Pretty for the wrong person, that is.” She glanced away — she can’t bear this. What was so wrong with loving you? Evelyn knows you love her back, doesn’t she? If only you weren’t so tied to tradition, so locked into the roles you’ve been given. Then, maybe, she would have had a chance.

But she doesn’t. She never did. And she never will.