Chapter – 05
“You’re alive because of me.”
“Because of you…?”
She couldn’t understand. Her family, whom she thought had all died because of her, were actually alive because of her? She needed an explanation. Her eyes sparkled with urgency. Ereve laughed quietly.
“Because I need you.”
“You need… me?”
“Yes. I need you. I need a woman named Ferdia.”
“Why? I was the commander of an enemy knight order. I cut down a thousand soldiers. Keeping me alive doesn’t benefit you at all.”
“From the Empire’s perspective, that may be true—for now. But from my perspective, it’s completely different.”
“And what exactly is your perspective?”
Ferdia frowned at the complicated explanation. The way he kept circling around the point annoyed her. She withdrew the hand she had placed on the table, crossed her arms, and spoke in a low voice.
“Get to the point. What is it? You clearly have something you want to say.”
His crossed legs uncrossed, both feet touching the floor. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His hair slid down slightly, the loose strands brushing near his ears.
“It was my argument to keep you alive. It wasn’t easy, but… who could stop me when I insisted on doing it myself?”
At his confident expression, Ferdia slightly furrowed her brow.
“There’s a lot I could explain, but honestly, Fedi, that’s not what matters most to you. So I’ll just tell you the most important part.”
“Go ahead.”
As she nodded, Ereve spoke calmly. Very calmly.
“Marry me. That’s the way you live.”
“…What?”
Why did the conversation suddenly go this way? Ferdia’s brow slowly tightened. She looked at Ereve, who had just said something completely absurd, and tilted her head.
“…What did you just say?”
“I asked you to marry me.”
“Marriage?”
She frowned. It didn’t seem like she had misheard. Maybe the Empire used the word marriage differently than the Kingdom? Maybe the concept itself was different here?
After running through several possibilities and finding no answer, she carefully spoke.
“…When you say marriage, you mean a man and a woman who love each other meet, date, receive their families’ approval, hold a grand wedding blessed by others… then live together under one roof, have children, and live happily together… you don’t mean that, right?”
“That’s exactly what I mean. You know it well. I was worried maybe the Kingdom had a different concept of marriage. That’s a relief.”
“….”
Relief? How is this a relief?
She wanted to shout stop talking nonsense, but her mature reason suppressed her emotions. She forced down the words trying to burst out and spoke slowly instead.
“Can I ask one thing?”
“Anything.”
“Why did marriage suddenly come up? And how does that save me? What do you mean?”
“That’s more than one question, but fine. The answer is simple. Because that was the kind of solution I proposed to the Emperor and the Senate.”
“What?”
“If you want to hear the full explanation from political, territorial, and geographical perspectives, I can tell you. Want to?”
“…Is it long?”
“Very. It took about a week.”
That sounded horrible.
Ferdia shook her head, and Ereve nodded as if he expected that.
“So to summarize the important part: by transferring custody of the woman named Ferdia to me, the entire Poeheim family is guaranteed survival. And the method of that transfer begins with our marriage.”
“How does transferring custody connect to marriage?”
“Because it involves the union of families and your absorption into the Empire.”
There were clearly many complicated details behind it, but she didn’t have the time or mental space to process them right now. As Ferdia held her aching head and rolled her eyes in frustration, Ereve spoke gently, as if understanding.
“To put it simply: when we marry, the Poeheim family will be recognized as Imperial nobility. You will no longer be a criminal, but will live as my bride and my wife. Not bad for a one-week summary, right? Need more time to understand?”
She didn’t.
With her fingers pressed against her temple and her brows deeply furrowed, she carefully asked:
“So basically, marrying you is the way to save my family… and myself?”
“That’s right.”
“And this was your proposal as a national project. To absorb the Kingdom of Artia into the Empire. Correct?”
“I like how concise you are. I don’t dislike intelligence.”
Despite the compliment, she didn’t feel any better. Holding her throbbing head, she lowered it briefly before raising it again.
“…Is there another way?”
“No. If you refuse, I can’t help you anymore. It was the only way to pull you away from those picky senators and that snake of an Emperor. And even that took me a week.”
“Ha…”
As she sighed, something he said struck her as strange.
“The only way… to pull me out?”
“…Let’s skip that. It’s not important.”
“No. It’s important to me. You said earlier too. That from the Empire’s perspective I should die, but from your perspective that would be a problem. What does that mean? Isn’t it related to what you just said?”
Pressed by her questioning, Ereve—uncharacteristically—looked flustered. His eyes shifted slightly before he avoided her gaze. Noticing this, Ferdia narrowed her eyes. His wandering gaze eventually returned, focusing on an innocent teacup instead.
“It’s a national project of the Empire.”
“No. I think you have another motive.”
“Why would you think that?”
“Are you underestimating a woman’s intuition?”
“That’s usually useless—”
“I think it’s perfectly accurate right now.”
Her eyes burned like a bear refusing to let go of its prey. Ereve looked fed up and turned his head before finally sighing.
“What answer do you want? Ask just one question. I’ll answer it.”
“What? What kind of—”
“I’m counting. Five. Four. Three…”
“What are you—”
“Two. One.”
As the numbers dropped quickly, Ferdia scratched her head before blurting out:
“Do you… need me?”
Her blunt question.
She seemed surprised by her own words and closed her mouth, but Ereve looked pleased. His counting expression disappeared, and the corners of his eyes softened.
His lips curved into a gentle smile, and his entire atmosphere became warm.
“…Huh?”
Was he always this handsome?
As Ferdia stared blankly, Ereve smiled brightly at her and spoke softly:
“I need you.”
Very much.
“What is that man thinking?”
At the rough voice, Marquis Halian turned his head. Looking at Count Passen, who kept grumbling beside him, he replied lazily:
“Watch your words. We’re still in the Imperial Palace.”
“And what if we are? Palace or collapsing shack, what difference does it make?”
“There are many ears listening.”
“Then we should just cut them all off.”
Count Passen smiled coldly as he looked around. The servants and maids passing nearby flinched and quickly fled. Once they were alone, Passen spoke again with dissatisfaction.
“What is Duke Grixia thinking, Marquis?”
“How would I know what that madman is thinking?”
“A madman, you say…”
Passen chuckled as he lifted a wine glass with his thick fingers—an oddly mismatched elegant gesture.
“Is he still as insane as ever?”
“It’s a curse of his bloodline. That’s why he usually stays shut inside his estate. Honestly, it was fortunate he joined this war. We avoided defeat, and he got to indulge in all the blood he’d been deprived of.”
“That’s why we won, isn’t it? Because of that greedy sword of his.”
“It’s true he took much of the credit, but we should still be grateful he saved us from disaster. And yet… with all that influence, he chooses to use it to make a prisoner who should have died into his bride. Ridiculous.”
“I agree. If it were me, I would have demanded land and elevation to a grand duchy. Foolish man. Spending over a week arguing obvious legal points… all just to get one woman. Absurd.”
Unlike Passen, the Marquis elegantly lifted his wine glass and inhaled its aroma. Watching the deep red liquid swirl, he looked satisfied before taking a sip.
“This is the finest wine from the latest shipment. A 40-year vintage. What do you think?”
Passen’s eyes sparkled as he tried to read the Marquis’s mood, clearly seeking favor. The Marquis glanced sideways and smiled.
“Tastes good.”
“I knew it! This wine is made from red grapes grown in a northern Imperial village called Narting. Since it lies within my territory, I personally oversee—”
The Marquis smirked as Passen eagerly listed the wine’s virtues, hoping for praise. Such behavior was typical in noble society.
The power of those who possessed wealth.
People always bowed before it. They tried to speak to him. Some traveled thousands of miles just to attend his birthday banquet and present expensive gifts.
A life he was completely used to.
Halian san Nedberg.
Though the Nedberg family held the rank of Marquis, their influence rivaled even ducal houses. The reason was simple:
The current Crown Princess was his daughter.
As the father of the future Empress, the future mistress of the Empire, he had gained wings of power. In the Senate, he always had first speaking rights. Even the Emperor sought his opinion.
But—
Duke Grixia…
That brat.
A mere 25-year-old upstart, as the Marquis saw him, who constantly ignored him. Even during Senate discussions, Duke Grixia would easily shake his head and refuse to support anything he disagreed with.
In a system ruled by majority vote, one opinion shouldn’t matter much.
Unfortunately, the Grixia ducal house held more power than the Nedberg family.
The reason was simple:
Founding merit.
Since the Empire’s founding, the Grixia family had remained firmly rooted as the Empire’s sword. Though they owned no private army, the law granted them command authority over all Imperial forces in times of crisis.
A clear indicator of just how powerful they truly were.
