The gods crowned her [Famous Book]

The servants cleaned up the hall, re-arranged the delicate and gorgeous flowers, lit the flickering lights, and officially opened the ball, which symbolized the advent of the new era.

The real feast begins now.

The glass cups glow with a transparent luster, and the hall is filled with hyacinths, snowdrops, and fir tree flowers, representing new life and resurrection, as well as endless hope.

Amidst the cheerful piano sound of the band, Ivy kept clinking glasses with the guests who came to toast, and was so busy that her feet never touched the floor. Pure flowers bloomed on the carpet in the snow-white dress. This was the most gorgeous gift she ever wore in her life. The skirt, however, did not use a waist design. It only used a few purple roses in a circle to decorate the waistline, but it was extraordinarily moving.

"Isn't it too much to waste a few words from the Consul?" Byron took a glass of sweet wine and squeezed in from the crowd, noticing that Ivy was not wearing a corset, his eyes could not help but pass in surprise, " Your outfit today is quite... different. I thought you girls must strangle yourself into a needle. To be honest, I don’t think it’s so beautiful when I look at it on weekdays. I don’t know why there are so many men I think girls with thinner waists are prettier."

"So I want to implement a policy that forbids the beauty of sickness, who likes to gird their waists, but this kind of trend is absolutely not advocated, and the elders in the family are not allowed to implement coercion."

Byron nodded approvingly: "It's a pity that the signs of the past of an era are often romanticized. If people in the future think this morbid aesthetic is a kind of romance, it will not be a good thing to make a comeback."

"Ah..." Ivy stretched her slender eyebrows, like a butterfly fluttering in front of her forehead, "I will try to live a long time, and then let my heirs carry out this ban, at least in Wellesley In the era of being in power, there should be no more cases of strangling one's own ribs because of a corset."

"After all..." She blinked, "Women's emancipation begins with outlawing bad habits, Mr. Lord, do you think I'm right?"

"Yes, yes, yes..." Byron caught a glimpse of narcissus growing in clusters in the porcelain vat, and a meaningful smile appeared on his cheeks. He narrowed his eyes and sniffed the strong fragrance, "You really look like .”

"like what?"

"Narsisos."

"I am narcissistic to the extreme, and no one can do anything to me." Ivy laughed, "Who dares to say otherwise?"

"Power can indeed allow a woman to act arbitrarily. Of course, I don't mean it in a derogatory sense." He said with emotion, "Although I am curious about the heir you mentioned, what surname would you give him?"

"Except for Wellesley, the others are impossible." Ivy smiled, "My own kingdom, why should I be named by someone else's surname."

"Oh, my lord!" Several young girls passed by Byron, still holding his newly published poetry collection in their hands, holding fountain pens piously and joyfully, asking the idol to sign generously.

Byron immediately understood and showed them a friendly smile like the sun. After nodding, he took the pen and neatly signed his full name along with the title. The delicate tip of the pen made a rustling sound on the parchment.

After signing, the handsome poet raised his head under the reluctant eyes of the girls, and asked in a joking tone: "My lord, I would like to know who the father of your heir will be."

Before Ivy could answer, he pursed his lips again as if he was afraid that she would be angry, and added: "This is not my question alone, many people have the same question. After all, for a female ruler , your spouse and heir will be a matter of great concern to them, you are still young, and you are so outstanding in appearance, we want to know if there is a noble man who is suitable for you to pursue you, will you accept or reject it. "

This question really aroused the strong interest of the girls who had not dispersed behind him. They all stopped their scattered steps and watched with piercing eyes, quietly waiting for the female consul's response.

"I don't reject many lovers, but there is only one me in Ireland." Ivy spun the goblet in her hand, the bright glass reflected the light in her eyes, "So I will never have a husband in my life, wedding dress and auditorium shall not be with me, and my most faithful oaths are for Ireland alone."

Then she heard the applause of the people.

"What a great sacrifice..."

"What a selfless woman in power."

People were discussing in whispers, and admiration and heartfelt sighs flowed out of the crowd.

In their eyes, women who lose their marriage are tantamount to giving up the best half of their lives.

Marriage is a woman's second life, and she is willing to give up such a precious opportunity. For such a beautiful and outstanding young woman, it is worthy of pity for the onlookers.

Although in the eyes of those involved, giving up marriage is the most normal choice, it still cannot stop the apology pouring in like a wave.

Ivy smiled and shook her head, and walked slowly among the eagerly looking crowd. Her snow-white long dress was spotless, like a virgin priest praying for mortals in the Temple of Apollo.

"This is entirely out of my own will, but I will send blessings to the men and women who enter the marriage hall. True love is always worthy of my respect and admiration."

She walked up to a well-dressed girl, stopped under the surprised eyes of the latter and her lover, took off the lily wreath from her hair, and put it on the girl's smooth forehead.

"You have to be the most beautiful bride." She said with a smile, "Of course, you have to be the happiest."

Amidst the thunderous applause, she raised the clear glass between her fingers, and toasted to all her admirers and subjects. Laughter and cheers arose in the eyes of her followers. The smile on her face was like a coiled and blooming rose in May. With Qiangwei, wherever they touched, there was an excited response.

"Ivy..."

A male voice suddenly sounded, and everyone was suddenly silent.

This was the first time she heard her own name amid the shouts of the crowd, and she was called out gently and kindly.

Ivy trembled in surprise, then turned around and saw the owner of the voice.

He was wearing a pure white dress, standing in the bright sunlight, his chestnut curly hair shimmering with orange, still as handsome as ever, exactly the same as when she first saw him at the ball.

"I made a slip of the tongue." Noticing her surprise, Kevin smiled, "Dear Duchess, congratulations, may I take the liberty to invite you to dance with me?"

Across the distant crowd, she couldn't hear his voice, but she clearly recognized the meaning of the opening and closing of her lips.

The cornflower blue pupils immediately glowed with the brilliance of the stars, intertwined with the bright smile, just like the flying birds in the morning sky.

She lifted the corner of her skirt, passed through the bustling crowd, climbed over the steps, and ran towards him quickly.

"Of course." Her palms overlapped with his. In an instant, the warmth of each other made both of them tremble, and their hearts vibrated in a sudden resonance.

The warmth in her palm spread to the bottom of her heart through the blood vessels of her body, and the bright light above her head shone down. She looked into his dark blue eyes, held his hand, and walked into the middle of the dance floor under the enthusiastic eyes of everyone.

When the first vocal music sounded, their palms met, their eyes met, and they moved slowly.

The pupils are as deep as a whirlpool, inadvertently pulling people's minds to their heart's content, shuttling back and forth at the mercy of fate.

She let go of her rationality and sobriety, and let her heart sink into this charming deep sea. Looking at the gentle smile on his lips, neither of them spoke, as if they were afraid of breaking the hard-won tranquility.

She didn't even want to ask why he was here, she just wanted to believe what she saw.At least, at this moment he really appeared in his own eyes.

So perfect and clear.

Their footsteps are always in harmony, and the skirts and dresses of the same color rotate with the beat. This waltz has never been rehearsed in advance, but the tacit understanding seems to have been carefully prepared for a century.

"I finally made up the dance that you rejected back then." He finally spoke.

His smile is enough to drown in the ocean, if you don't pay attention, you can fall into the bottomless undulating waves.

"How can you let me not be tempted." Ivy whispered.

It was quiet all around, and everyone smiled and looked at the center of the dance floor, surrounded by the consul and her lover, their eyes full of anticipation and eagerness.

"It's the luckiest thing in my life to make you fall in love." He lowered his head, stroked her soft and delicate cheeks with his fingers, and his voice was like the summer wind passing through the boundless starry field, blowing away the surface of the lake that she had not been able to shake for many years. Sudden birth, heart anxious.

"At first I liked you, thinking it was because of the advantages in you that most people don't have. There is light in your eyes, clear and bright, brave and not afraid of any difficulties and darkness in the world."

He paused, his eyes under the sun were slightly smiling, like a sleeping lake slowly flowing into his pupils, tracing her facial contours inch by inch, and he couldn't bear to move away for a long time.

"It was only later that I realized that just because you are Ivy, it is worth my insignificant life to love you."

She didn't answer, just stared at his eyes that locked hers, the deep light surged, and her heartbeat had already missed by accident.

Rubbing her fingertips over the flesh, she suddenly asked: "If my face grows old, will you still love me as before?"

Hearing this, he didn't hesitate, staring into her eyes urgently and deeply: "I love you more than myself."

She smiled, and suddenly, in the eyes of everyone, she stretched out her arms and hugged him heavily.

"I love you too, but unfortunately, I'm so sorry, I can't love you blindly, between us... there is an insurmountable ocean, please forgive me...I beg you again." On the tip of her nose, she expressed her apology in a low and mournful voice.

If it weren't for the attention of so many people, she would stand on tiptoe and kiss him proactively.But at this moment, she can only express her emotions with hugs.

what a pity...

It's a pity that it is destined to be so regrettable.

Only he loves Ivy Wellesley, who has a dark soul like tar. She is full of sins, greedy for power, and mercenary, but he can tolerate the dripping blood and love her dripping. The scarlet hands, and the lips that she couldn't promise him, including the heart that could never be completely his.

He loved everything about her, but she made a vow to dedicate her life to power.

I love you, but I can't get close; I get close, but I can't have it; I have it, but it's so short.

There is nothing more sad than this in life.

"You don't need to be sorry." He said heavily, "Because I will always love you."

He looked calm, only Ivy found the tears hidden in the corners of his eyes, which were about to fall under his gaze.

"His Excellency the Consul?"

The moment the drop of water fell, the maid's sudden call suddenly sounded beside her ear.

Her tone was extremely respectful and cautious, but she still broke the silence around her.

Ivy realized that she was lying on the soft sofa, the velvet curtains blocked the morning sun outside, and the morning room was dark.

"How long have I slept?"

"You have been sleeping since yesterday afternoon, Your Excellency, I have to take the liberty of waking you up," said the maid.

"What about the dance?"

"It's over a long time ago." The maid was surprised by her lack of awareness, "You didn't even dance the opening dance, probably because you were too tired the previous two days, so you ran directly to the morning room to rest. I fell asleep in the morning."

"Consul, I just sent you a telegram that was sent early this morning. I dared to show you now because I was afraid of disturbing your sleep." The maid said as she held the lamp for her. In an instant, the faint candle light illuminated Telegram in front of you.

"Who sent it?"

"The army from your brother should have been ordered by him."

Hearing this, Ivy brought the lamp closer, and by the light, identified the code on the paper.

Dear sister, I have the misfortune to inform you that the Duke of Clarence died at Waterloo at noon yesterday.

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