* * *
Beyond the swaying carriage window, the Imperial Princess’s Palace came into full view.
Ruth Penryll, Duke Headrin’s aide, grumbled, his eyes fixed on the palace with a look of undisguised irritation.
“His Majesty is truly shameless. How can he even bring up the topic of marriage? He was popping champagne when the Del Marc family’s influence was on the decline.”
Over a decade ago.
Left alone as a child after losing both his parents and his aunt, the Empress, the Del Marc Duchy had been as precarious as a candle in the wind. However, once Headrin achieved great distinction in war and was revered as a hero, Emperor Ivan proposed a marriage to his younger sister.
It was a suggestion where the intention to subtly absorb Headrin’s influence was painfully obvious.
“Thanks to that, only Her Highness the Princess has hit the jackpot. She gets to have the Empire’s most eligible bachelor as a husband just by sitting still.”
Ruth did not hold a favorable view of Blair, whom he had never even spoken to properly. With a mother and brother like hers, wasn’t it obvious what kind of person she would be? It was clear she would be cut from the same cloth.
“That’s why I told you. You should have searched for a suitable young lady and married her quickly.”
Unlike the fuming Ruth, Headrin remained silent, seemingly indifferent. That demeanor only served to frustrate Ruth further.
“Are you not even angry, Your Grace?”
“Ruth.”
Despite the impassioned outburst, Headrin—who had been listening with his arms crossed—cut him off with a single word. His gaze remained fixed outside the window as their carriage passed through the main gate of the Princess’s Palace.
“We are on palace grounds now.”
The voice was devoid of emotion, but Ruth, recognizing the warning, snapped his mouth shut.
“……My apologies.”
Soon, the carriage came to a halt. The chief attendant was waiting, and he led them toward the drawing room. Headrin left Ruth behind and stepped inside alone.
“Her Highness will be here shortly.”
Once the attendant exited, Headrin was left alone in the stillness of the room. He had just raised a teacup to his lips when the door opened behind him. He stood up and turned to pay his respects.
A petite woman entered.
Blair Sonnet Von Ardel.
The mistress of this palace and the woman who, barring any disaster, would soon become his wife.
She was beautiful, crafted with the delicate perfection of a doll. She was, in every sense, the daughter of the Empress Dowager—yet to Headrin, this beauty failed to stir a single feeling.
No, it was worse than that.
*It would be more fitting to call her a horrific face that reflects the past.*
Headrin hid a twisted smile and kissed the back of her hand.
“I greet Her Highness the Princess.”
For a split second, Blair’s enigmatic violet eyes locked with his, and her expression buckled. It looked vaguely like sorrow.
But by the time Headrin raised his head again, the emotion had vanished as if it had never been there.
“I know you must be busy. Thank you for making the time, Duke Del Marc.”
Blair sat in the chair of honor with natural grace. Her soft platinum hair and the lace of her dress fluttered as she moved.
Silence stretched between them. Neither spoke, both merely lifting their teacups to dampen their throats. Usually, in such a match, the person of lower status would break the ice with small talk, but Headrin had no such intention.
In the end, it was Blair who broke the silence, her eyes tracing the rim of her cup.
“I will speak straight to the point.”
She set her cup down.
“The marriage proposed by my brother—I do not intend to refuse it.”
That much, Headrin had already anticipated. Even she could not defy the Emperor’s decree. But what followed was entirely unexpected.
“One year.”
At the sudden, out-of-place word, Headrin’s brows furrowed in confusion.
“Keep your marriage with me for just one year.”
“……What do you mean?”
“After one year, I will divorce you on my own fault. I won’t change my mind, I won’t cling to you, and I won’t bother you with talk of love or any other excuses.”
A contract marriage? What kind of scheme was this?
As if reading his thoughts, Blair offered him something he absolutely could not refuse.
“The Empress’s Palace fire incident ten years ago.”
At the mention of it, Headrin’s gaze turned frigid.
“If you accept my proposal, I will cooperate to the best of my ability in uncovering the inner workings of that day.”
A cold, mocking smile touched Headrin’s lips. She had kept her mouth shut for a decade; with what audacity did she bring it up now?
Headrin remembered that day with stinging clarity. When his aunt was named the culprit, he had sent countless letters to Blair, the sole witness, begging for the truth.
He never received a single reply.
The only answer he ever heard was during the trial, when he stood outside the slightly ajar courtroom door, too young to enter. He had heard her voice from within:
*“I…… cannot remember anything.”*
Lies.
The memory remained a decade later as a bitter, festering resentment.
*But it is not a bad offer.*
He could not refuse the Emperor’s command, nor did he intend to. The Emperor had promised to authorize an increase in the Duchy’s military strength on the condition that he join the Imperial family. With the Del Marc military power halved following Empress Esmeralda’s “treason,” they were vulnerable—unable to properly guard the northern border or suppress the magical beasts.
Headrin was a great war hero and a magic swordsman, but he could not hold the line alone. The military increase was a necessity he could not forgo.
And if he could use the Princess to finally dig up the truth of that day? If he could walk away with a clean divorce afterward? It would be the perfect ending.
He looked at Blair, his tone clipped.
“Why are you trying to enter into such a marriage?”
“Because marriage is the only way for an Imperial Princess to leave the Imperial Palace legally.”
“If that is the reason, wouldn’t it be better to marry someone who will cherish and love you, Your Highness?”
Blair stared at him, unblinking. Every time her brilliant violet eyes flickered, he saw something strange—a mixture of sorrow and a silent, sharp resentment for his very question.
“I don’t believe in things like that.”
“…….”
“Rather than a relationship that speaks of illusory eternity, I prefer one with a clear beginning and end. A relationship where you can get as much as you give.”
Blair spoke with a firmness that held his gaze. Once, she had been like any other young lady, thrilled by his arrival and foolish enough to believe in love. That was a lifetime ago.
“Because I thought you would do that for me, Duke.”
Headrin watched her, the image of a younger, brighter Blair briefly superimposing over her pale face.
*“When I grow up, I want to leave the palace. I’m going to leave the Capital and travel the wide world!”*
His mind recoiled, but he kept his voice steady.
“I accept your proposal.”
“Thank you.”
“If you have nothing more to say, I will take my leave.”
He checked his watch and rose the moment she nodded. As he walked toward the door, he felt her eyes lingering on his back, heavy with an unspeakable, hidden resentment.
There was a question she could not bring herself to ask. A question that this version of him would never truly answer.
*Headrin.*
*Did you kill me?*
* * *
Wedding preparations moved with frantic speed.
Before they knew it, the day before the wedding had arrived. Blair visited the Imperial graveyard.
[Esmeralda Del Marc]
The name was etched into the cold stone. The late Emperor had stripped her of her title and surname, though he had permitted her to be buried here—perhaps out of a mercy that felt more like a final insult.
Blair placed a flower from the greenhouse beneath the marker.
Katrina had disapproved of her coming here. To her, this place was a haunt of enemies. But Blair found it difficult to accept that reality.
*Blair.*
The memory of a warm, loving embrace—the mother who had shielded her from the coldness of her brother Ivan—felt like it might have been a lie. And the thought of that lie was terrifying.
When she was young, she hadn’t dared to look for the truth. She had been too afraid. Whichever side was right, she would lose a mother either way.
But years later, when she had encountered Headrin at a banquet, she had finally decided to face the truth she had turned away from. She had summoned a hypnotist, but the process only damaged her health. Later, after she had fallen in love with Headrin, she had buried the memories again, terrified of losing him to the truth.
But when she realized that the man she loved had only been playing a part to extract a confession from her, she had finally crumbled.
*“Ha, you ignored it for ten years, and now you’re feeling guilty?”*
*“…….”*
*“Don’t do anything anymore. Just, stay still. As you have done all this time.”*
Headrin’s cold gaze had shattered her. If Esmeralda were innocent, he would despise her for her silence; if she were guilty, he would never love her.
So, in her past life, she had let it all go. She had given up on the memories, just as her husband wanted.
*But running away won’t change anything. In this life, I will face the truth and move forward.*
Whatever the truth behind those forgotten days might be, she would find it.
Just as Blair stood in the quiet graveyard, sorting through her resolve, she heard hurried footsteps approaching from behind.