Chapter 5

2. Political Marriage (1)

“Do you swear before the Holy Cross to speak nothing but the truth, without a single lie?”

“I swear.”

The wedding ceremony concluded with the couple taking their vows barefoot.

It symbolized presenting oneself before God as a humble servant.

“I ask you, Mirane Laster. As husband and spouse, do you swear to trust your partner and always be truthful?”

“I swear.”

The first vow was one of faith.

“I ask you, Mirane Laster. As husband and spouse, do you swear to remain devoted to your partner and commit no adultery?”

“I swear.”

The second vow was one of fidelity.

“I ask you, Mirane Laster. As husband and spouse, do you swear to love your partner and cherish them as dearly as your own life?”

The final vow…

Was the vow of love.

The young man standing before the altar in his blue knight’s uniform hesitated for the briefest moment.

With soft light-brown hair and warm green eyes, he was a handsome young man whose beauty was elegant rather than dazzling. The insignia adorning his immaculate uniform testified to the rank he had once held with pride.

That young man was Mirane.

The man standing beside him turned his head slightly to look at him.

Feeling that gaze, Mirane came back to himself and quietly answered,

“I swear.”

The bishop gave a faint nod before turning toward the groom.

His gentle voice echoed throughout the cathedral.

“Do you swear before the Holy Cross to speak nothing but the truth, without a single lie?”

The answer came from the man standing beside Mirane.

“I swear.”

At that very moment…

An absurd thought crossed Mirane’s mind.

…He smells like ink.

The bishop continued.

“I ask you, Castel von Valenstein. As husband and spouse, do you swear to trust your partner and always be truthful?”

The Grand Duke slowly parted his lips.

“I swear.”

The Obert Empire occupied the northernmost reaches of the continent.

And Wicker lay at the Empire’s northern frontier.

Its territory alone accounted for nearly one-third of the Empire’s total land.

Yet most of that land was barren and impossible to cultivate.

Monsters constantly descended from the Kyrgis Mountains, leaving only a handful of regions fit for human habitation.

Winter… in the northernmost land of the north.

Clatter. Clatter.

The carriage rolled steadily across the frozen plains.

A violet carriage drawn by four white horses advanced alongside its escort.

Inside, a brown-haired young man whose hair brushed lightly against the nape of his neck gazed silently out the window.

His features were undeniably handsome—not in an overwhelmingly striking way, but with the kind of warmth that naturally drew people’s affection.

His emerald-green eyes rested upon the endless expanse stretching beyond the horizon.

There were no walls.

No buildings.

Nothing to block his view, unlike the capital.

Those gentle eyes shimmered beautifully beneath the winter sky.

Former Commander of the Empire’s Third Knight Order—

Mirane Laster.

The future consort of Grand Duke Valenstein.

And now…

A solitary knight caught somewhere between his past and his future.

His thoughts drifted back.

A spy…

A shadow crossed Mirane’s face.

He remembered the final words Count Laster had spoken before sending him away.

“I trust you’ll perform your duties just as faithfully as you did in the capital, Mirane.”

“Father?”

Surprised, Mirane had looked up.

The Count answered with chilling indifference.

“Keep a close watch on the Grand Duke.”

“Mirane Laster.”

“Never forget this.”

“Even if your surname becomes Valenstein…”

“You are still my son.”

Even at the very end…

Those had been the words his father chose to leave him with.

That was the bond of blood between Count Laster and Mirane.

Silence lingered.

Mirane stared quietly through the carriage window.

The dawn sky glowed a deep violet, sharply divided from the frozen plains below.

As streams of blue light gradually spread across the heavens…

His eyes widened.

“…What is that?”

The sky itself seemed to be flowing.

Countless stars merged into luminous rivers.

Curtains of white light rippled overhead like heavenly flames.

As that shimmering veil spread across the night and wrapped around him…

An overwhelming sense of awe filled Mirane’s chest.

He could only stare.

One of the escorting knights rode closer to the carriage.

“It’s an aurora.”

Starlight glittered across his vision.

The beautiful lights decorating the winter night blazed magnificently overhead.

Unable to tear his eyes away, Mirane breathed out softly.

…The land of Wicker.

Above him stretched a magnificent violet sky.

The wandering stars.

The heavenly curtain.

Completely captivated by nature’s grandeur, Mirane watched until his cheeks flushed with the cold and wonder alike.

Even after the procession halted for the night before reaching Wicker Castle…

He remained awake, quietly gazing at the heavens.

As though…

Wicker itself were welcoming him.

Nearly an entire month after departing the capital…

The procession finally arrived at the Grand Duke’s residence.

Throughout the journey, Mirane had wrestled endlessly with his father’s final command.

A spy.

The very idea was laughable.

Anyone in the capital would have laughed aloud if they heard it.

Mirane knew nothing of deceit.

Schemes.

Political intrigue.

Those filthy games belonged to a world completely foreign to him.

Yet…

He also knew his father.

He knew the absolute authority behind those commands.

And he knew how merciless Count Laster could be.

After spending more than twenty years beneath an authoritarian father…

Obedience had become instinct.

Not loyalty.

Submission.

Something bordering on resignation.

Unable to either obey completely…

Or reject the order outright…

Mirane spent the entire journey wrapped in silent turmoil.

The carriage finally approached Wicker Castle.

More precisely—

It was crossing the great bridge leading to it.

So…

This is Valenstein Castle.

A trace of surprise flickered in his pale-green eyes.

Looking beyond the window at Wicker’s soaring towers and the massive bridge connecting the fortress walls, Mirane couldn’t hide his astonishment.

He had expected architecture similar to the capital’s.

Or perhaps something even older.

After all…

Wicker was famous for valuing tradition.

He had imagined outdated, austere buildings.

Instead—

The castle before him exceeded every expectation.

It wasn’t extravagantly decorated.

Nor was it crude or weathered.

Its towering black walls and elegant spires blended seamlessly with the dark northern sky.

There was something solemn…

Majestic…

About the fortress.

Ancient.

Yet remarkably refined.

It suited Wicker perfectly.

Mirane found himself staring in genuine admiration.

Then—

As the carriage reached the middle of the bridge…

His eyes suddenly widened.

Knights?

Outside the castle gates stood rows of waiting figures.

At first they appeared as distant silhouettes.

As the carriage drew nearer, he distinguished armor glinting beneath the pale sunlight.

They were the castle’s servants.

Its soldiers.

The welcoming party.

Just over a hundred people altogether.

…Is the Grand Duke among them?

Mirane searched carefully.

Then his brow slowly furrowed.

The Grand Duke wasn’t there.

Nor could he find the standard of House Valenstein.

The banners fluttering in the wind belonged only to what appeared to be subordinate houses.

An owl.

A rose.

A wolf.

Then…

A strange look entered Mirane’s eyes.

Too few vassals.

“Hm…”

His expression hardened.

Wicker bordered the Kyrgis Mountains, where monsters constantly emerged.

For generations, its rulers had served as the Empire’s Northern Wall.

Naturally…

They possessed one of the continent’s greatest military forces.

The Grand Duke of Wicker stood as the Empire’s shield against the monsters descending from the mountains.

His authority rivaled that of the Emperor himself.

Only three banners?

Impossible.

Even House Laster—a noble family based in the capital with relatively few retainers—commanded more than ten knightly houses.

There was no way Wicker…

One of the Empire’s greatest noble houses…

Would have so few.

Only three banners.

Barely twenty knights accompanying them.

The implication was unmistakable.

Just as I expected…

The Grand Duke has no intention of welcoming me.

For a brief moment, disappointment crossed Mirane’s face.

Then…

He composed himself.

The carriage reached the end of the bridge.

I knew this would happen.

…It’s just a little disappointing.

Calming his heart, Mirane immediately began studying the assembled knights.

When entering hostile territory…

Information was everything.

Since the man who should have welcomed him was nowhere to be seen…

He would have to identify those who appeared to hold the highest authority.

His gaze settled upon…

Three knights.