TINOT 14

Chapter: 14

“…So, another… no.”

Diarmuid, who had been quietly studying her face, hesitated as if he wanted to say something, carefully choosing his words several times before finally asking,

“Is the only thing your family would associate with you the Cullinan Mine?”

“…If something that has been used naturally until now can no longer be used, wouldn’t that inevitably make them think of me?”

Even the Cullinans used for research in Aster each year were worth far more than the annual revenue of a modest estate.

If someone had been using something like that freely and suddenly couldn’t, wouldn’t they, out of frustration or resentment, think of the person who made it unavailable?

Diarmuid silently rubbed his brow at Lisithea’s answer, letting out a wry smile.

“…I see. Then, let’s think of a way together.”

After being lost in thought for a while, Diarmuid finally lifted his head.

“You… you have a fiancé, right?”

Lisithea, immediately displeased at the mention, couldn’t help but frown sharply.

Seeing this, he reached out and gently stroked the back of her hand, as if soothing a sulking child.

“I heard that there’s some unpleasantness from the Spencer side, but could you tell me in more detail what’s going on?”

“Unpleasantness” — a word describing something unsightly or shameful. It was quite appropriate for Joel and Spencer’s behavior.

“My father sent a letter requesting annulment to Spencer. There’s been no response from them yet.”

“And your wish? Do you want to annul the engagement with Joel Spencer?”

“Of course. Sending the annulment request to Spencer was my own decision.”

Diarmuid nodded a few times as if confirming everything he needed to know, then said,

“I’ll help with that.”

“You, Your Highness?”

“I have someone in the temple connected to my mother. I think even the chief magistrate could be moved.”

If he could secure the support of the temple and the chief magistrate, the annulment could proceed without needing to negotiate with the Spencer family.

“…Why go that far?”

Lisithea muttered to herself.

Diarmuid’s goodwill was far beyond anything she could have imagined.

Perhaps the reason Duke Cassius rarely left the mansion was because his retainers feared his unusual temperament.

While Lisithea reached that hypothesis, his calm voice continued.

“What I’m about to say is only a proposal, so feel free to refuse.”

Lisithea had no idea what Diarmuid would propose, yet she felt no desire to refuse.

Even before hearing it, she was certain it was an offer she could never let slip away.

“As I said earlier, I cannot accept your offer. If we were to enter into a pact, the world would assume I am interested in the throne. The beginning of a pact was always for succession disputes.”

Pacts had originally been formed during fierce disputes over the throne, when nobles supporting the same claimant would unite and confirm mutual loyalty.

Thus, forming a pact itself was often interpreted as a declaration of participation in the succession struggle.

Though now almost forgotten, no one could predict how others might interpret it.

“Sometimes pacts were used to protect nobles under the crown’s or nation’s care, but that would effectively be impersonating the emperor.”

When nobles required protection due to exile or war, they could form pacts with the royal family — but only under imperial authorization.

“Then there’s no other way?”

A pact was Lisithea’s only method of transferring the Cullinan Mine to Diarmuid.

If he refused, no alternative existed.

At her question, he smiled awkwardly.

“No, we just need not be master and vassal.”

Not being master and vassal… what on earth did that mean?

Realization dawned on Lisithea, and she stared at him in shock.

“That’s right. I’m proposing to you. Will you marry me?”

It was a perfect, selfless disguise she could never have imagined — yet it couldn’t be more ideal.

In an era where individualist thinkers celebrated personal freedom, and madness in love and romance was glorified as romantic, this situation could be presented as a moving love story.

The Cullinan Mine Lisithea offered Diarmuid would become a token of a wife’s true love, given to a husband left alone.

Even after Lisithea’s death, if it became known that the pact was made to legitimize inheritance, no one would blame a man who lost his wife.

Public sympathy for a duke who must live tracing the memory of his beloved, now having lost another family, would silence most criticism.

It was clearly a solution satisfying both Diarmuid, who wished to avoid political burden, and Lisithea, who did not want to leave the Cullinan Mine in Aster.

But…

“…You’re willing to go as far as marriage to help me?”

To offer even himself to help a stranger.

This was far beyond simply listening to her story out of pity.

Such generosity, beyond comprehension, could even be terrifying.

Lisithea felt as though she had been handed a gift box whose contents she could not predict.

And Lisithea was always unlucky. Luck or goodwill was never meant for her.

People are untrustworthy. Emotions change.

She could not entrust herself entirely to kindness that could be withdrawn at any moment.

In response to her wary gaze, Diarmuid let out a hollow laugh.

“What are you saying? I know enough to calculate what’s advantageous. Otherwise, how would I have survived until today?”

“What advantage is this disguise to Your Highness? At first, you didn’t even want the Cullinan Mine.”

“Marriage itself is my goal.”

“…Marriage?”

“Yes. Our gracious emperor pities his nephew who has lost family. Concerned for my lonely situation, he wishes I stabilize through marriage… so I have to make it happen.”

Emperor Oswald had luckily ascended to the throne after the death of his older sister.

He was uneasy about the public perception that he both distrusted his sister’s surviving relatives and persecuted his nephew.

The emperor’s contradictions didn’t end there.

Though satisfied with his reclusive nephew’s conduct, he often displayed portraits of eligible young ladies to Diarmuid, worrying about his unmarried state.

“As you can see, it’s been quite a dilemma.”

He sighed, pointing to the scattered corpses as he continued.

“If His Majesty allows Princess Florence’s behavior, isn’t that his intent?”

“The emperor observes all, but does not interfere with the actions of subordinates. He believes that is the authority of the emperor.”

He shook his head at the suggestion that the emperor intended a marriage between Diarmuid and Princess Florence.

“He sets them on a test whose end is unknown, watching them mercifully. Of course, when they fail, they are pulled down.”

A sadistic pastime — worse given that lives were at stake.

Sensitive as he was, he was far more twisted than Lisithea had imagined.

It was easy to imagine what Diarmuid’s childhood must have been like under such a man.

“Florence believes she must defeat Elaine to become emperor.”

The Second Princess Elaine was the daughter of Empress Keisha, whom Oswald married after becoming emperor.

Oswald had already married Pamela as crown princess, but upon becoming emperor, he could take another empress due to Pamela’s bloodline.

Pamela, from a distant branch of the Spencer family, was already part of a declining noble line.

The crown prince’s humiliating marriage was due to Oswald’s notorious reputation as a reckless prince.

Rumors of potential princesses would prompt hurried marriages or sudden entrance into convents.

When nobles complained, the emperor left his son’s marriage to the Spencer family.

Thus, the Spencer family found Pamela as the prince’s bride.

Though Pamela’s bloodline was unremarkable at first, after Oswald’s accession, it became an issue.

Oswald eventually took the legitimate daughter of Duke Phaeton as empress, passing the law allowing imperial polygamy.

That daughter was the Second Princess Elaine.

Because Pamela became a crown princess but not an empress, Princess Florence’s legitimacy as the eldest daughter was constantly questioned.

“So that’s why you’re marrying the duke. The mother’s bloodline is Princess Florence’s weakness.”

Compared to Florence, Diarmuid was considered superior in terms of legitimacy.

“Yes. So it doesn’t matter to her who I am. To Florence, I am merely a means to compensate for her insufficient lineage.”

Lisithea, listening to Diarmuid, thought father and son were strikingly similar.

An emperor who married another noble due to his wife’s bloodline, or a princess sending assassins to kill a cousin — neither were sane.

And cousins marrying? It was an almost archaic relic of the past.

Princess Florence clearly would not be among the fast-moving faction of the changing times.