Chapter – 11
Although it seemed like a hastily made-up excuse, Ferdia nodded, thinking that Ereb must have had his reasons for behaving that way.
“Alright. I’ll step out for a moment.”
Rising from her seat, Ferdia tied her loose hair neatly into a single braid and left the room.
“There’s a raspberry pie baked for you. Would you care to have some, Milady?”
“…Where did you hear me being called ‘Milady’?”
As Ferdia left with a reluctant expression, Ereb let out a deep sigh. It was already taxing enough to focus on Ferdia, and he had no desire to entertain someone troublesome coming all the way here of their own volition. Still, to turn away a visitor who had already arrived would be improper.
And it was none other than the Nedberk family. Ereb licked his lips and slowly leaned back in his chair when the door opened again, revealing Marquis Halrian.
“Long time no see, Duke.”
“We had quite the conversation last week, didn’t we, Marquis?”
Though the age difference alone seemed like it could be twice as much, Ereb treated him with practiced skill and deference. The previously relaxed atmosphere stiffened as he turned his attention to the Marquis.
“What brings you here? This isn’t near your territory, and it’s hardly a suitable time for sightseeing given the aftermath of the war.”
“Is that so? I came merely to see you, Duke.”
Ereb received his words with a smile, though he could read his true intent. The Marquis moving straight to the point without small talk clearly indicated he had no desire for a casual conversation. Ereb, therefore, looked at him quietly and moved to conduct the dialogue quickly.
“Let’s skip unnecessary chatter. What is your purpose?”
“Purpose…? That sounds far too grand…”
“Did you come to argue against the points I raised in the Senate? If so, you’ve come to the wrong person. The final decision on that matter lies with His Imperial Majesty. I merely stated my position.”
“…It’s not about that.”
“Then let’s get to the point. There are many important matters to attend to.”
How many could treat the head of the Nedberk family this way? Even the Crown Prince would not be so curt. Yet Ereb cut the conversation short, showing he had no desire to prolong it.
The Marquis, however, retained a relaxed smile. Then, after a brief pause, his expression hardened as he spoke.
“What were you thinking, taking that woman as your wife?”
Ereb stared at the face in front of him, serious to the point of sternness, and then let out a small, derisive laugh. The sound broke the tense atmosphere, causing the Marquis to frown. Ereb ignored it, adjusting his posture and placing his clasped hands on the desk.
“That’s all you came here to say? I thought you had something important.”
“‘All’? It’s hardly ‘all.’”
“The fact that you even ask this of me—whether she’s a fallen noble from the Kingdom of Artia, or even a woman who bakes cheap bread—wouldn’t normally concern anyone in the Empire. But she is the devil incarnate who slaughtered a thousand imperial soldiers with her own hands. She is a creature of carnage, a criminal who deserves death under Imperial law. And yet you take such a woman as your wife? Are you in your right mind?”
“Of course I am.”
“Duke!”
The Marquis rose from his seat, approached Ereb, and placed a hand on the desk, narrowing his eyes.
“Do you realize what people will say when this becomes public? The honor of the Grixia family that you’ve built up will be ruined. Are you willing to accept that?”
“I don’t care.”
“…Tch.”
Seeing Ereb remain calm and composed, the Marquis let out a low groan. Ereb looked at him with his black eyes and spoke slowly.
“Why are you saying this to me? Aren’t you supposed to be opposing me, Marquis Halrian? If I were to fail, wouldn’t that be to your advantage?”
The struggle between the Nedberk and Grixia families had lasted over a century. It was no secret that the two families were bitter enemies. Ereb looked at the Marquis’s lined eyes and spoke gently.
“Are you uneasy?”
“…What do you mean?”
“You fear that I might do something you can’t comprehend and end up taking away something important, don’t you?”
Ereb stood up and met his gaze. Facing Ereb’s black eyes could be unsettling, and the Marquis instinctively avoided direct eye contact.
“Is that fear what drove your arrogant steps here? Hmm?”
“…Duke Grixia.”
By now, the decorum of noble conversation had long disappeared. Ereb looked at him intently, narrowing his eyes.
“Why does it matter to you whether I take Ferdia as my bride? Are you pretending to care, only to put her back on the pyre? Or do you plan to persuade her to bend the Imperial Army to your will? Or perhaps you think I have some grand plan to take her by force? Perhaps…”
His eyes followed the Marquis as he began to sweat nervously.
“Military rebellion, perhaps?”
Ereb’s words seemed to trigger a reflex as the Marquis instinctively recoiled and took a deep, low breath.
“…Just speaking that word is a grave offense.”
“I know. But do you really think I would do that, Marquis?”
“Well… we’ll see.”
Ereb frowned.
“I can’t stand people who flaunt themselves as if they are the father of the future Empress. Someone might think you are the Emperor himself.”
The Marquis sat down, clearly exhausted, rubbing his fingers together as he looked up at Ereb.
“I’ll give you the answer you want.”
“What…?”
“Why I took Ferdia as my wife. Aren’t you curious?”
He smirked, and the Marquis opened his mouth in response.
“Because I like her.”
“…What?”
“Should I say I love her?”
“Duke, that’s absurd…”
“Why is it absurd? Does a man need a reason to love a woman? She’s beautiful, her personality is easygoing, we’re compatible—so I like her. Love can exist like that. Why is that unbelievable, Marquis?”
“Of course it’s absurd! You and Ferdia met as enemies. And now you say you like her? You claim to love her? And you are willing to risk everything you could lose to make her your wife? You expect me to believe that? Duke!!”
“Yes. Believe it.”
Ereb leaned back leisurely in his chair, looking down at him.
“And what if I don’t?”
“…You’re insane. Completely insane.”
Ereb scratched his head, irritated, and snapped at the Marquis.
“I said I’ll take Ferdia as my wife. Why all the fuss? Are you her father now? Her father-in-law? Mind your own business. What’s your problem?”
The Marquis’s eyes glinted sharply as he glared at Ereb, letting out a low groan.
“Moreover, I don’t know what choice Ferdia will make, so stop poking at things that are already sensitive. Listen carefully. She is not my wife yet. The decision is hers, and I will wait. Even if I marry Ferdia, there is no reason for me to discuss this with you, Marquis. So, cease these unnecessary words.”
“She is a creature of madness. She slaughtered soldiers without batting an eye. She can never lead a normal life as a woman or a wife. She thirsts for blood! Are you really willing to embrace such danger?”
“Watch your words, Marquis.”
Ereb’s gaze darkened.
“No matter how much of a head the Nedberk family you are, if you ever call Ferdia a creature of madness again in my house, prepare to lose that head. I might overlook insults elsewhere, but not here, where I stand.”
The Marquis glared at Ereb until he turned and stormed out of the room. Between them, notions of etiquette, noble rank, and precedence no longer existed. The Nedberk family openly despised the Grixia family.
Though Ereb could have reported the Marquis for improper behavior, such actions had been common for fifty years, so he did not escalate the matter. It was only unpleasant.
Ereb clicked his tongue, turning his gaze outside. Just hearing slander against Ferdia made his usually relaxed mood turn grim.
Ferdia sat dazed, staring at the sky, her eyes filled with complicated emotions. How should she describe what happened yesterday?
The crimson-black gaze that looked at her. The searing touch. The sharp hands that tore through her pants and the teeth that bit her shoulder, leaving marks still vivid on her skin.
She had never felt such a thrill, even on the battlefield. When she lost to Ereb in combat, he had not emitted such an aura.
Though his crimson-black eyes and prayers had been fearsome, they had never carried the hint of arousal—until now. This time, he had been wild, violent. Like a predator ready to tear at her neck given the chance.
In this chilling situation, she briefly wondered if she should run, but the way he looked at her and his gestures seemed to signal something inescapable.
A surge of heat boiled inside her.
“…Sexual frustration, maybe.”
For over thirty years, she had lived a life far removed from such matters. Before her possession, she had only casually interacted with one male friend at most and had grown up in a strict household, diligently attending all school rules as a female student.
Junior high, high school, university—she had never met a man seriously in her life. After being possessed and living another six years here, she had reached her thirties without ever encountering a man properly.
“…He’s handsome, though.”
He had been kind too. She had reservations about his motives, but his care in healing her and concern for her well-being seemed genuine. Compared to the vain knights she had seen, Ereb was shocking in the best way.
Moreover, he had saved her. Even though he came and went, he seemed harmless.
“…Yesterday too…”
His gaze on her, the way his hands touched her lips, his tongue approaching—Ferdia could not help but recall those feelings. She shook her head violently, thinking she wasn’t normally such a forward woman, yet the memory lingered.
It wasn’t her first kiss. She had once dated someone in her life, but it had been a complete disaster. A kiss after eating intestines? Her first kiss? She had been devastated, eventually breaking up bitterly.
After that, she thought she had developed a resistance to kisses, but yesterday’s kiss with him had been thrilling. Had she not resisted, she shivered to think how far it could have gone as his hands slid over her chest and along her waist to her hips.
