* * *
It was noon, the sun suspended directly at the zenith of the sky.
In the greenhouse tucked away in the rear garden of the Empress Dowager’s Palace, a gathering was held to welcome the newest member of the Imperial family. Katrina wore a satisfied smile as she watched Blair and Headrin sitting side by side across from her.
Blair was the latest trophy in her collection—the Empress, the final piece to secure everything she had ever desired.
“When people called you two a fair maiden and a dashing gentleman, I thought they were merely exaggerating. But seeing you like this, you truly are a picturesque couple. Don’t you agree, Your Highness?”
“Indeed. My heart is full. Now, the only thing missing to make it perfect is for you to produce an heir.”
“The Del Marc Duchy is a house that values its lineage; it would be best if you had at least three. Blair, you must put in a lot of effort.”
Headrin listened with nonchalance to the Emperor and his mother’s chatter, his gaze fixed instead on the woman beside him. Blair wore her usual composed expression—a far cry from the look of someone happy to be reunited with her natal family.
While Katrina and Ivan were busy delivering welcoming remarks to Headrin, the food was served. Ivan raised his glass of aperitif.
“To think the Duke and I have become family like this—it feels as if I have gained an army of thousands. With the Imperial family and the Del Marc Duchy joining forces, there is nothing under the heavens to fear.”
“…….”
“Now that we are kin, I hope we can create more opportunities to meet and talk. We have much to discuss, do we not?”
For the eternal glory and prosperity of this Empire.
Ivan lightly clinked his glass against Headrin’s. The clear, sharp ring of crystal echoed through the air. The sound did not fall pleasantly on Headrin’s ears, but he extended his glass nonetheless.
As the meal drew to a close, Ivan turned back to Headrin as if a thought had just occurred to him.
“Ah, that’s right. There is a matter I wanted your opinion on, and this works out well.”
Ivan finished his wine and continued.
“I hear that trade with the eastern part of the continent has become quite active across every nation lately.”
“It is likely because the recent opening of the sea route to the East Continent has caused trade to flourish. To have contact with the East, one naturally must be on close terms with the east.”
“Correct. I’ve looked into it, and there are many fascinating and useful artifacts coming from the East Continent. It would be wonderful if we could carve out a more direct sea route and engage in active exchanges… It is a real shame, really.”
Ivan shook his head and clicked his tongue before turning his gaze to Headrin.
“What does the Duke think about this?”
Headrin caught a hidden sneer behind Ivan’s inquiry—the pretense of seeking counsel. The Emperor wanted to carve a path to the eastern edges of the continent and, eventually, seize the eastern ports.
*The old foxes of the Council of Nobles would have steered clear of this.*
If a war broke out, the first to be conscripted would be the young scions of the nobility. Even if they were loyal to the Emperor, would they value that more than their own flesh and blood?
And so, he had reached for the Empire’s greatest magic swordsman—a powerful piece to hold in his hand. Even without direct words, the Emperor’s intent was clear: War.
The Emperor, who had never fought a real battle, seemed to view war as nothing more than a game of chess. A game where one simply flicks a finger to easily capture an opponent’s piece. That was why he had so readily granted the expansion of the Del Marc military forces.
Headrin had no intention of sympathizing with such a foolish notion, but he decided to feign attention for the sake of the wife sitting beside him.
“Well.”
Headrin replied indifferently, swirling his glass. The wine rippled, clear and crimson.
But unlike him, his wife had no intention of letting the subject slide.
“War is not an option, Your Highness.”
Once Blair spoke, she gripped the hem of her dress beneath the table. It didn’t matter if Ivan tried to manipulate her; she would not tolerate him dragging Headrin into his schemes. She did not want to further torment a man who had already been forced into a marriage he did not want.
In her previous life, she had sat in silence, paralyzed by the impossibility of defying Ivan. That silence had remained a debt of the heart toward Headrin. Now, she refused to owe him anything more. She would not shrink before him as she had in her past life.
Not for his sake, but for her own.
“There may be a difference in scale, but war leaves scars that are difficult to heal for both the defeated and the victors.”
“…….”
“The people and the subjects are not your chess pieces, Your Highness. Do not push them toward war for the sake of your own ambition.”
Headrin watched Blair intently. Though her voice was small, her expression was more powerful than he had ever seen it. Even as her small hand, hidden beneath the table, trembled.
Ivan, seemingly flustered by the blunt speech of a sister who had always been docile, let out a short, incredulous laugh. Katrina, catching his mood, scolded her.
“Blair! Is the Emperor not in the middle of a conversation with the Duke? What kind of ill-mannered behavior is this in the presence of guests?”
Blair had never rebelled before; to do so now, in front of Headrin, was unforgivable to Katrina.
“And what do you know of state affairs to be speaking so brazenly?”
“Let it be, Mother. How could a woman who has never even studied royal politics understand the heart of a monarch who thinks of his people?”
Ivan laughed languidly to restrain Katrina, his tone dripping with disdain. Headrin sipped his wine, observing Blair. The fierce intensity in her eyes was beginning to fade, replaced by a hollow light.
Seeing this, the look in Headrin’s eyes turned glacial. He lowered his glass.
“In my view, the Duchess has not said anything particularly incorrect.”
At the sound of Headrin’s voice cutting through the silence, all three turned to look at him.
“As a subject to her lord before being a younger sister, how could offering blunt advice to ensure just governance be considered an act of rudeness?”
Katrina, briefly flustered, countered, “Duke, this is a matter of a mother disciplining her child for her shortcomings. Do not defend her.”
It was a sharp warning not to interfere in family matters. Headrin let out a dry, sharp chuckle and set his glass down.
“They say that a daughter who marries is like a stranger to her own family.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“She is Blair del Marc now.”
Headrin’s eyes, as he spoke her name, were as sharp as a beast guarding its own.
“Who else but I would have the right to point out my wife’s shortcomings?”
Katrina flinched, taken aback by his chilling aura, but Headrin continued with chilling nonchalance.
“As for the opinion His Highness asked of me…….”
He stood up, taking hold of Blair’s hand, which was still trembling.
“I will reconsider it after we have enjoyed our honeymoon a little longer. As you said, the Del Marc lineage is precious.”
So be it.
He wrapped a sturdy arm around Blair’s back and rose to his feet. Blair blinked, looking up at him with bewilderment as she was pulled into his orbit. His embrace, shielding her as if to protect her, felt warm. Just like in the days before her regression, when he had been kind.
* * *
The two left the greenhouse, leaving behind the astonished sighs of Ivan and Katrina.
“We shall depart.”
As the carriage pulled away, Headrin stared at the passing winter landscape with dry, detached eyes. Suddenly, he felt a gaze upon him and turned his head.
Eyes resembling amethysts, brimming with the soft afternoon light, were fixed on him quietly. As if she had been waiting for him to look back for a very long time.
“Thank you.”
“I did not act out of a desire for gratitude. As you know, my feelings toward the Imperial family are not particularly favorable.”
“Still, thank you. And…… I am sorry.”
*For letting you be used by my mother’s and brother’s greed.*
Even as her resentment toward him had grown, that was the apology that had always remained in a corner of her heart. Headrin stared at her for a long moment, then turned his gaze back to the window.
Time passed in silence. A steady, rhythmic sound of breathing began to fill the carriage. Only then did Headrin look back at Blair.
The carriage jolted, and Blair’s body swayed. Headrin reflexively reached out to shield her head from the wall. Her silver-thread-like hair brushed against his hand, flowing softly. They were close, but Blair, blissfully unaware, remained in a deep sleep.
Headrin sighed and gazed at her clear, peaceful face as she leaned against his hand. He had always been bothered by her expressionless mask—the way she remained composed even when he spoke sharp words to her. She was like a beautiful doll devoid of emotion.
That was why he hadn’t hidden his hostility. He had intentionally said harsh things, drawn lines, and treated her coldly. He had wanted to see that composure crumble.
But seeing the light leave her eyes while she was stifled between Ivan and Katrina had ignited a strange irritation within him. It felt as though he had been robbed of a prey he had been hunting for a long time.
*He*, and only he, should be allowed to make her cry, to torment her, to break her.
“…….”
Headrin watched her for a moment longer, then gently laid her down sideways on the seat. Blair flinched, but soon sank back into a deep sleep, her face more peaceful than before.
* * *
“Mm…….”
Blair felt herself being lifted into the air and blinked awake. It was dark. Startled, she thrashed until what was covering her face slid down: Headrin’s coat.
Through a haze of sleep, she saw the servants lined up to greet her. And beside them, a face so unrealistically handsome that she wondered if she were still dreaming.
“……Headrin?”
“Are you awake?”
As she met his eyes from such a close distance, she realized she had been carried in his arms and felt a jolt of alarm.
“Pu—put me down.”
Blair struggled, embarrassed to have her husband play nursemaid because she had slept through their arrival. But Headrin, far from putting her down, held her tighter. Watching the woman who was always as stoic as a doll now looking at him with wide, rabbit-like eyes stirred a dark, inexplicable urge within him.
“It is a bother. Let’s just go.”
“I must be heavy…….”
Headrin let out a quiet laugh. It seemed his wife did not understand what it meant to be heavy, or perhaps she was simply underestimating his strength.
Just as he was about to ascend the mansion steps, ignoring her self-deprecating assessment, a voice stopped him.
“Your Grace.”
Ruth, who had remained at the mansion, approached with news.
“The hypnotist has arrived.”
At the words, a chilling aura flickered in Headrin’s eyes. It was time to approach the ‘real’ purpose of this contract marriage.