Chapter 6

2. Political Marriage (2)

Standing beneath the rose banner was a tall, broad-shouldered knight with black hair and blue eyes.

He stared straight ahead without a trace of expression, paying Mirane no attention whatsoever.

Mirane recognized him immediately.

Sir Straus.

The man known as the Grand Duke’s right hand.

Despite his rugged, bear-like physique, his title was the Rose Knight.

To Straus’s left, beneath the wolf banner, stood a blond knight.

The young man watched Mirane intently, wearing a warm, gentle smile.

His features were remarkably soft.

Yet that very smile made Mirane wary rather than reassured.

Showing kindness to someone you’re not supposed to welcome…

Usually means there’s another motive behind it.

The knight beneath the wolf banner.

Keeping that suspicion quietly to himself, Mirane shifted his gaze toward the final banner.

An eagle owl.

The knight standing beneath it drew his attention more than anyone else.

His face was exceptionally cold.

He stood perfectly straight, staring ahead as though looking into empty space.

Dark circles shadowed his sharp features.

…An eagle owl.

A hunter of the night.

Looking into those piercing gray eyes, Mirane couldn’t help thinking the emblem suited him perfectly.

The man wore a faint smile.

Yet his gray eyes glittered with unmistakable hostility.

No…

It wasn’t only him.

Every knight present wore their discomfort openly.

The cold stares.

The sharpened expressions.

The unmistakable hostility.

They needed no words.

Just as I thought…

This won’t be easy.

A faint, almost self-mocking smile appeared on Mirane’s lips.

At that moment—

Clatter.

The carriage came to a halt.

A gentle voice greeted him.

“Welcome.”

When Mirane stepped down from the carriage…

He was met with an unexpected sight.

…Hm?

Standing at the very front of the welcoming party…

Wasn’t a knight.

It was an elderly woman with white hair.

She was of average height with a graceful, slender figure.

Though age had covered her face with wrinkles, she carried herself with quiet dignity.

The retainers behind her stood respectfully in formation.

The elderly woman bowed.

“I am Laisa, the Head Housekeeper.”

Mirane blinked.

“…You’re the Head Housekeeper?”

“Yes.”

It was uncommon for a woman to hold such a position.

Momentarily surprised, Mirane quickly regained his composure.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

She reminded him of a kind grandmother.

His first impression wasn’t bad at all.

That impression lasted only a moment.

Because Laisa’s very next words made him frown.

“Now then…”

“Everyone except Lord Mirane is to return immediately to the capital.”

Shiiing!

The instant she finished speaking—

Blades slid from their scabbards.

The horses pulling the carriage neighed anxiously.

“What does this mean?!”

Cries of alarm erupted.

Mirane’s expression turned pale.

Behind Laisa stood armed knights.

Calmly, she looked at the frozen Mirane.

“What’s the meaning of this?”

“Protect the carriage immediately!”

The imperial knights hurriedly calmed the frightened horses and surrounded Mirane.

But they resembled an egg surrounded by stone.

More than a hundred soldiers carrying spears and swords had already encircled them.

Standing amid the sea of blades…

Mirane’s expression remained calm.

After a brief silence, he quietly asked,

“Is this the Grand Duke’s command?”

In every nation…

No matter how uncivilized…

It was customary to allow a bride or groom’s attendants to accompany them.

Taking away every servant and knight was a grave breach of etiquette.

Laisa answered without hesitation.

“Of course.”

Then she added,

“Valenstein Castle permits entry only to those whom His Grace has personally authorized.”

Mirane let out a quiet sigh.

“I came here…”

“As the Grand Duke’s spouse.”

For just a fleeting moment…

Weariness crossed his usually expressionless face.

Then it disappeared.

Laisa remained perfectly composed.

In the same gentle tone, she continued,

“If you send the knights back, there will be no problem.”

“His Grace has instructed us to treat Lord Mirane with the utmost care.”

After a brief pause…

Mirane nodded.

“Withdraw.”

The escort immediately protested.

“But, Commander—!”

“Enough.”

His voice left no room for argument.

They had no choice.

Surrounded by Wicker’s soldiers…

And seeing the unusual coldness on Mirane’s face…

The imperial knights reluctantly obeyed.

Thus…

On the very day he arrived in Wicker—

Mirane Laster sent every one of his attendants back to the capital.

Silently, Mirane followed Laisa through the castle corridors.

A quiet sigh escaped him.

…They hate me.

The open hostility around him seemed to foretell the life awaiting him here.

Three vassal knights.

Fewer than twenty soldiers.

Roughly eighty servants.

He knew they were all watching him.

Yet he said nothing.

He simply followed behind Laisa.

Eventually, she stopped.

“This will be your room.”

Fortunately…

The room was neither a prison cell nor something unworthy of his status.

If anything—

It was far too luxurious.

…What awful taste.

His head immediately began to ache.

Mirane pressed a hand against his forehead, suppressing the complaint rising to his lips.

If he dared say,

“This room is far too gaudy for my tastes…”

There would undoubtedly be countless people accusing him of insulting Wicker.

At least…

It’s not a barn.

Having reluctantly convinced himself, he heard Laisa speak again.

“If there’s anything you require, please tell me.”

“I shall do everything in my power to provide it.”

Mirane didn’t answer.

Ordinarily, he would have thanked her politely.

But he was simply too exhausted.

Pretending not to notice his fatigue, Laisa bowed before quietly leaving.

Click.

The door closed.

Staring at it, Mirane’s emerald eyes darkened.

A warning.

“If you need anything, ask the housekeeper.”

He wasn’t foolish enough to miss the implication.

Don’t act on your own.

Removing his deep-blue knight’s uniform, he carefully hung it on a stand.

His weary body collapsed onto the sofa.

Looking up at the ceiling, he sighed deeply.

I’m going to lose my mind.

The ceiling was entirely decorated with gold leaf.

Across it stretched the recreation of a famous painting.

Ostentatious.

Gaudy.

He hated it.

No…

It was downright painful to look at.

Damn…

Mirane squeezed his eyes shut.

Even if Father expects me to spy…

I’ll have to get close to them first.

At the very least…

I need to ask for a different room.

Unfortunately…

That opportunity never came.

The Grand Duke avoided him completely.

Until the day before the wedding…

Mirane’s life resembled unofficial house arrest.

Laisa faithfully provided everything he requested—

Food.

Clothing.

Writing supplies.

Yet his movements remained strictly restricted.

He wasn’t even allowed to speak with the servants or maids.

He was treated as an outsider.

Someone unworthy of joining communal meals—

An old custom observed in Obert.

That was Mirane’s place within Wicker.

Yet…

He never complained.

Nor did he protest to the Grand Duke.

He quietly accepted every cold measure imposed upon him.

He caused no disturbances.

He obeyed.

It was the wisest response he could have chosen.

Gradually…

Laisa’s attitude softened.

Perhaps because of Mirane’s calm acceptance.

Though she remained loyal to her true master, she occasionally lingered to speak with him.

Through those conversations…

Mirane learned much about Wicker.

The nobles of Wicker were proud.

They refused to submit to the capital’s aristocracy.

Given the Grand Duke’s political position…

Personally welcoming Mirane would have provoked opposition among his own retainers.

Even so…

The Grand Duke had dispatched the three great houses serving House Valenstein—

House Straus.

House Lin.

House Rabe.

It had been his way of preserving Mirane’s dignity.

Hearing that…

Mirane’s uneasiness eased somewhat.

So…

He’s trying to be considerate in his own way?

If that were true…

He could understand.

Even so…

Keeping him confined like a rat trapped inside a cage was going a little too far.

Mirane sighed.

Without accomplishing anything…

The wedding is already approaching.

At last…

The wedding day drew near.

The Grand Duke had yet to show himself.

Not a glimpse of clothing.

Not a strand of silver hair.

Not even another rumor.

Would he truly appear for the ceremony?

Surely…

He couldn’t possibly fail to attend his own wedding.

…Could he?

The thought left Mirane wearing an awkward expression.

Would it be better…

If the Grand Duke appeared?

Or if he didn’t?

Mirane fell silent.

He still couldn’t answer.

More accurately…

He still couldn’t overcome his fear.

The rumors all painted the Grand Duke as a cruel man.

And despite everything…

Mirane couldn’t completely dismiss them.

A heavy sigh escaped his lips.

On the night before the wedding…

Unable to calm his restless heart…

Mirane sat alone upon the bed.

Awake.

Until dawn.