Chapter 3
Even Eliana, who had never once set foot in high society, had occasionally overheard people at the monastery whispering about Duke Tristan Carlisle—the infamous “creepy Duke of Carlisle.”
The Carlisle family had been one of the Empire’s founding noble houses.
Though little remained of its former political influence, its prestigious title endured.
Its current lord was a young duke.
He was said to be the secret child of the previous duke, who had supposedly died without an heir before suddenly meeting an unexpected and mysterious death.
Like the dukes before him, Tristan had almost no interest in politics or social gatherings.
Instead, he was obsessed with hunting monsters.
People claimed he spent every day drenched in the blood of magical beasts.
“The duke’s family wishes to proceed as quickly as possible.”
“I certainly didn’t expect them to send a completed marriage contract in advance.”
Still leaning against the window, Marquis Crowde continued speaking without turning around.
“I know this is sudden, but you would have needed to marry someday anyway.”
“It’s a ducal house, so they certainly won’t treat you poorly.”
“As for the wedding—”
“F-Father… please wait.”
Eliana shot to her feet and interrupted him.
The marquis hated being interrupted.
His brows twitched as he finally turned away from the window to look at her.
Normally, his intimidating presence alone would have robbed her of the courage to speak.
But now, his cold expression barely registered.
“So… you’re saying…”
“I’m going to marry Duke Carlisle?”
“To be precise,” he replied flatly, “I’m telling you that you are getting married.”
“I’ve already made the decision.”
“I called you here to inform you of it.”
“I’ve never even met him.”
“I have.”
His cold, authoritative answer left her speechless.
“He attended the Founding Festival this year.”
“A rare occurrence.”
“We had more than enough opportunity to discuss the matter.”
“As I was saying before you interrupted me, we’ve agreed to forgo a wedding ceremony.”
“It was the duke’s suggestion.”
“And frankly, with this year’s severe drought in the southern territories, it isn’t an appropriate time to hold a lavish celebration for the nobility.”
His words continued one after another.
Eliana could only stare in confusion.
She was already well past the age when noble daughters entered society.
Yet she had barely left the estate except to volunteer at the monastery.
How could someone like her possibly receive a marriage proposal?
Just then, through the open window, she heard a woman complaining in a shrill voice that mud had splashed onto her dress.
Something suddenly clicked in her mind.
A ducal house with an illustrious history but plagued by unsettling rumors about its current lord.
A marquisate blessed with vast lands and overflowing wealth, yet one that had never formed ties with the Carlisle family.
Only one explanation made sense.
“…Is it because of Cecilia?”
She thought of Lady Cecilia—
The cherished daughter of the house.
Someone who lived in an entirely different world from herself.
Anyone seeking a marriage alliance with the Crowdes would naturally choose Cecilia.
Ever since childhood, her father had forbidden Eliana from appearing in public.
Most people didn’t even know she existed.
And even if they did…
Why would anyone choose a supposedly illegitimate adopted daughter over the marquis’s precious biological child?
No matter how frightening Duke Carlisle’s reputation might be…
There was no way he would choose her over Cecilia.
“What did you just ask?”
“Cecilia… instead of you?”
The marquis narrowed his eyes in disbelief.
“So you think I’m selling you off in Cecilia’s place?”
“So I can bring a duke into the family?”
Faced with such a blunt question, Eliana bit her lip.
If that’s not it… then what is?
She wanted to ask.
But, as always, no words came.
Only her trembling hands betrayed her emotions.
The marquis stared at her before finally speaking.
“Believe it or not, the proposal was made for you from the very beginning.”
“Every noble house needs an heir.”
“The House of Carlisle is no exception.”
“And as I said before, you’re already old enough to marry.”
“So tell me.”
“What reason is there to refuse this proposal?”
Eliana felt all the strength drain from her body.
The phrase “old enough to marry” sounded strangely foreign.
Since being adopted into the Crowde family…
Not once had she received affection or concern from the man she called father.
Marriage?
It would have made far more sense if he’d simply said:
“I can’t keep you here anymore, so I’m sending you away to whichever family offers the best arrangement.”
“That should answer all your questions.”
“You may leave.”
“Sign the contract and give it to Gilbert.”
“You’d also better begin packing.”
“The duke said he’ll arrive sometime next week.”
Without waiting for a response, the marquis sat behind his desk and resumed reading his reports.
Eliana could feel her vision blur with tears.
She hurried out of the study before they overflowed.
Trying desperately to make it back to her room unnoticed, she rounded a corner—
—and collided hard with someone.
It was the owner of the shrill voice she’d heard moments earlier.
Cecilia Crowde.
“Watch where you’re going.”
“You almost knocked me over.”
Twisting a lock of her luxurious crimson hair around one finger, Cecilia glared at her.
Normally, Eliana would have apologized immediately.
But now…
She couldn’t force a single word past her lips.
Despair and anger twisted her expression beyond recognition.
Even so, she couldn’t summon the courage to meet Cecilia’s eyes.
“Hah.”
“Look at that face.”
“Aren’t you going to apologize?”
As Cecilia stepped closer, raising a hand as she always did whenever she intended to strike Eliana—
Something bumped against her foot.
“What’s this?”
“A marriage contract?”
The bundle of documents they had dropped during the collision lay at her feet.
Cecilia picked it up and casually flipped through the pages.
“So it’s true.”
“I heard that lunatic duke proposed to you.”
“You really are getting married.”
She laughed mockingly as she turned each page.
“Pfft.”
“What are you going to do now?”
“They say that duke is obsessed with slaughtering monsters.”
Eliana lowered her head without saying a word.
Only her trembling lips moved.
“Well…”
“I suppose he’s the perfect husband for someone like you.”
“You can hide away in the frozen north, spending the rest of your life cleaning up monster corpses.”
“How fitting.”
“Just like the gloomy little thing you are.”
Those mocking words shattered what little composure Eliana had left.
So…
Cecilia already knew about the proposal.
“W-Was it…”
“Did you tell Father to do this?”
Her voice shook pitifully.
She hated how weak she sounded.
Cecilia frowned.
“What are you talking about?”
“Tell him what?”
“Your marriage?”
Yes.
If Father sends me away instead of you…
Then he can finally get rid of me.
You can torment me until the day I die.
The words rotted inside Eliana’s chest.
She couldn’t say them aloud.
She was terrified of the slap that would inevitably follow.
Perhaps guessing what Eliana had swallowed back, Cecilia’s lips curled into a cruel smile.
The sheer malice on her face made Eliana instinctively shrink back.
But a moment later, Cecilia’s expression softened into a pleasant smile.
“You’ve got the wrong idea.”
“I’m actually a little disappointed.”
“Once you’re married and leave this house…”
“I won’t be able to watch you suffer anymore.”
“And Eliana…”
She stepped close enough to whisper directly into her ear.
“It makes absolutely no difference whether someone like you stays in this house or not.”
“Not to me.”
“Not to anyone.”
With a cold sneer, Cecilia shoved Eliana’s shoulder aside and disappeared down the hallway.
The strength left Eliana’s legs.
She collapsed onto the floor, finally letting the tears she’d been holding back spill freely.
She cried quietly in the corridor for a long time.
Not a single person in the mansion came to her.
That night, the candle in Eliana’s room burned until dawn.
The next morning, she asked a young messenger boy, who had only recently begun working at the estate, to deliver a letter.
“Please take this to Helio Monastery.”
“I’d be grateful if you could deliver it as quickly as possible.”
The boy, still too new to know why the adults avoided speaking to the “Crowde family’s adopted daughter,” accepted the elegant box of expensive sweets she offered with shining eyes.
Then he set off for the monastery with the letter.
“You’re going to the monastery again today?”
Marchioness Crowde asked while arranging flowers for the vase in the drawing room.
“Yes, Mother.”
“They’re short on hands because they’re preparing for the autumn harvest.”
“I couldn’t go last week, and it’s been bothering me.”
Standing before the marchioness, who never once looked at her, Eliana clasped her hands tightly to hide their trembling.
She was normally permitted to volunteer at the monastery only once or twice a month.
Fearing it would seem suspicious if she went twice in succession, she had deliberately skipped the previous week by pretending to be ill.
“Do as you like.”
“It’ll be your last time anyway.”
“Once you leave for Carlisle, there won’t be any more monastery visits.”
“I’ll tell the coachman to prepare.”
“Thank you, Mother.”
“Even when we’re alone, you still insist on calling me ‘Mother.'”
“You’re remarkably stubborn.”
The sudden insult caused Eliana’s eyes to waver for only a moment.
She bowed politely, thanked her once more, and quietly left the drawing room.
Returning quickly to her bedroom, she shut the door and took a deep breath.
Opening her wardrobe, she looked over its contents.
None of the dresses befitted the daughter of a marquis.
She chose the plainest one she owned—a dark green dress without any embroidery.
Over it, she draped a thick hooded cloak.
Then she retrieved a small box hidden beneath her bed.
Inside was a lavish bundle that looked valuable even at first glance.
She secured it tightly inside the inner pocket of her cloak.
It was Cecilia’s emergency savings.
The pouch was surprisingly heavy.
Finally, she tied back her long, pale golden hair, faintly tinted with silver, into a single ponytail.
“…Whew.”
Taking one last deep breath before the mirror, Eliana quickly headed for the back gate of the estate.
