Chapter – 06
In addition, the Empire’s strongest knight had always been the head of the House of Grixia. For 500 years, their family had stood alongside the imperial family. Because of that, even among ducal houses, their authority was on a different level.
Their crest bore a silver eagle, proving their firm bond with the Empire, which used a golden eagle.
A ducal house no one else could dare challenge. Even the father of the future empress could not ignore his opinion. Whenever the Duke of Grixia cast a dissenting vote in the Senate, everyone became busy watching his reaction.
“Count Passen.”
“The wine is… yes?! Yes, Marquis. Please speak.”
“What do you think was the reason the Duke of Grixia made such a choice? Why do you think he abandoned so many options and chose a mere woman?”
“To call her mere… that woman once held our lives in her grasp—”
The Marquis narrowed his eyes.
Count Passen hurriedly corrected himself.
“Ah, yes, of course. I also didn’t understand why he chose such an insignificant woman. Why would he do that?”
Pathetic.
The Marquis wondered how someone like this had even entered the Senate, the core of imperial power. Was it because this man’s younger sister was one of the Emperor’s concubines? Thinking the Emperor had poor judgment, the Marquis spoke again.
“Ferdia. Without the Duke of Grixia’s intervention, she certainly had the ability to cut off our Empire’s lifeline. I acknowledge her ability. But now the kingdom has fallen, and her talents are useless. The people of this country won’t look kindly on her. If the Duke truly intends to take her as his wife, then the House of Grixia will surely face public criticism. They’ll say he married the mastermind who killed imperial citizens.”
“…That’s true.”
Marquis Halian let out a deep sigh.
Did this fool really think he was saying all this just to get agreement?
Pressing his brow, he continued:
“It also makes no sense to think he married her out of love. Even if he took her in, maybe as a concubine—but as his lawful wife? Ridiculous. Saying it’s for the Empire’s future and a peaceful absorption of the kingdom? He could have had someone else do it. But the Duke moved personally.”
The Count simply blinked with a dull expression. Feeling as if he were talking to a wall, the Marquis turned away.
He picked up his wine and drank it in one go, then stared at the Count’s foolish face before standing up.
Startled, the Count opened his mouth, but the Marquis shook his head as if he didn’t even want to hear his voice.
“I’m tired. I should be going.”
“M-Marquis?”
The Marquis stopped at the door, turned around, looked the Count up and down, and let out a faint laugh.
“You are truly an amazing person.”
“Really? Ah, is that so? Haha!”
Amazing enough to throw away the chance to have a private meeting with me like this.
The Marquis shook his head at the man’s foolish grin and left the room, thinking of the Duke’s face.
What are you thinking, Duke Grixia?
To surpass him. To become the real power in the imperial palace. To have his grandson—born from his daughter—become Emperor and restore his family’s glory. And to crush the House of Grixia that looked down on him.
That was his lifelong ambition.
*
While the Marquis was trying to decipher Duke Grixia’s intentions, Ereb and Ferdia had already ridden for three days and arrived at his territory.
“This is our family’s castle, Whiteflower.”
“……”
Ferdia stared at the massive castle before her with her mouth open.
The enormous outer walls surrounding the duchy were impressive, but the castle called Whiteflower itself was breathtaking.
“I-is all of that the castle?”
“Is it a bit big?”
It wasn’t just a bit big. It was almost the size of a fortress. Aside from the imperial palace, nothing could compare in scale. Mountains bordered its left side, and a vast plain stretched to its right. Even from far away, its size couldn’t be taken in at once.
At the same time she admired it—
“Did you paint those yourself?”
The white flowers painted across the castle façade were beautiful enough to draw admiration. Each section had flowers of different colors, seemingly symbolizing different areas of the castle.
“They say an ancestor painted them about 200 years ago. He left instructions never to erase the flowers, so we restore them every year.”
“You repaint them?”
“Carrying on traditions is important.”
He smiled and took her hand as they entered. As the massive gates opened, a vast hall appeared.
“Welcome back, Your Grace.”
At the dignified voice greeting Ereb, they turned their heads.
An elderly man bowed in the center of the hall, with more than a hundred servants lined up on both sides. All of them bowed respectfully.
Overwhelmed by the unfamiliar scene, Ferdia looked flustered. Ereb interlaced his fingers with hers. She glanced at him.
“Why are you so stiff?”
His eyes shone like black obsidian.
“This is your home now, Fedi.”
Her gaze dropped to their clasped hands. Their fingers were tightly intertwined, as if already accustomed to each other.
Ferdia remembered their conversation from three days ago.
“I need you very much. I’ll explain why once we leave here and reach Whiteflower. I know you have many questions about this situation, but I can’t talk here. There are too many ears listening. So please understand for now.”
When she asked why, he smiled.
“Fedi, there are many reasons why you caught my eye. But one important thing is that you are very precious and important to me.”
Precious? Important? Why use those words?
“You’re very precious to me. Very important. So trust me. This is the only way to save you.”
She found it strange how earnestly he tried to persuade her. She should have been the one begging to live, yet this man was appealing to his emotions.
She didn’t understand, but she had no other choice.
Other than a marriage in name only with him.
“Fedi. Fedi!”
She raised her head at his voice. As she returned from her thoughts, Ereb looked at her with concern.
“You look tired. Should we skip it?”
“Skip?”
Confused, she looked around.
She was standing before the servants. Including retainers, more than 300 people were watching her respectfully.
She tilted her head at their gazes. Ereb leaned close and whispered:
“Greeting.”
“Greeting? Ah.”
She cleared her throat and spoke slowly.
“I am Ferdia Arde Poeheim.”
Her short introduction caused a brief murmur. It quickly settled, but unlike before, some now looked at her with displeasure.
As she frowned slightly, Ereb whispered again:
“We’ll fix that slowly later.”
She glanced up at him. As their eyes met, he smiled slightly and spoke aloud:
“I sincerely thank you for welcoming me back after such a long time on the battlefield. I have much to say, but there is much to do, so we will end here. Viscount Berjin.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
The elderly man stepped forward and bowed.
“Dismiss the servants and have them return to their duties. And prepare Ferdia’s room.”
“Shall we prepare it in the Black Rose section?”
“No. Whiteflower. Prepare her room here.”
“…Here, you say?”
A murmur spread again. Everyone seemed to understand the meaning, though Ferdia did not.
“Place it as close to my bedroom as possible.”
That statement caused an even bigger stir.
“Please handle it. I trust you understand what this means.”
“…Understood.”
The old man bowed deeply with a heavy expression.
Ereb then turned to Ferdia.
“Let’s go.”
“Where?”
“Where else?”
His expression looked unusually cheerful.
“To the training grounds.”
*
Why am I standing here holding a sword?
Ferdia looked down at herself in light training clothes, holding a practice sword.
Why? Why did he bring me here?
She watched the man casually stretching and swinging a wooden practice sword.
She couldn’t understand what he was thinking.
“…What are you plotting?”
“Plotting? Just warming up a bit.”
“…We rode in a carriage for three straight days and you want to warm up immediately? Are you insane?”
Her complaint was completely reasonable.
But Ereb ignored it, calmly swinging his sword diagonally.
“Did you train so poorly that your body would lose balance from something like that?”
“….”
He’s provoking me.
Since being transported into this novel, she had worked terribly hard to get used to this body. To bring out this body’s full performance, she trained daily—running the training grounds, swinging her sword, repeating practice endlessly.
For someone who used to live lazily, these had been the most passionate and hardworking days of her life.
“Raise your sword.”
His voice struck her ears.
Ferdia bit her lip and lowered her sword into position. Normally, one would hold the sword near the core to protect the upper body.
But her swordsmanship was different from others.
