Chapter 8

2. Political Marriage (4)

Despite the shock that still lingered in his heart…

The wedding ceremony proceeded flawlessly.

To the solemn sound of the pipe organ, the newlyweds stood shoulder to shoulder.

Though the ceremony itself was remarkably modest for the wedding of a Grand Duke, every sacred rite was performed without omission.

Throughout the entire service…

The Grand Duke never once looked at Mirane.

When the final hymn ended, the bishop raised the Holy Scriptures.

“Place your hand upon the Holy Bible and swear your vows.”

Turning his head toward the Grand Duke, Mirane quietly swallowed.

…Those rumors.

Sunlight filtering through the cathedral’s stained-glass windows scattered countless colors across the Grand Duke’s long black hair.

A gentle breeze stirred those silky strands.

Behind the silver mask…

Eyes as clear as ice shimmered softly.

For a brief moment…

Mirane felt lightheaded.

Only one thought remained.

…Those rumors.

Taking a slow breath, he placed his hand upon the Bible.

One vow followed another.

Then a magnificent hymn filled the cathedral.

“Where love dwells, there God abides.

The Father’s love has gathered us together.

Within His embrace we shall rejoice and sound the trumpet.

Where love dwells, there God abides.

A great purpose has brought us here.

Let us love one another in truth.

Where love dwells, we become one,

Lest one loaf become divided into two.

Drive away wicked quarrels; silence all strife.

Standing before Heaven’s gates beside the saints,

We offer glory unto You, Holy Father.

Grant us endless joy beyond compare,

Now and forevermore.

Amen.”

As the final notes faded…

Mirane slowly exhaled.

For some reason…

He felt utterly exhausted.

The ceremony was nearing its end.

“Present the rings.”

Though slightly nervous…

Mirane watched as the Grand Duke knelt before him without hesitation.

The hand that slipped the ring onto his finger moved slowly…

Yet with unwavering precision.

Silently staring at the ring now adorning his hand…

Mirane gradually calmed his restless heart.

The bishop continued.

“This covenant binds not merely your hands, but your very souls.”

“May these rings forever seal your promise of fidelity until the day you stand before God.”

“Grand Duke.”

“Grand Duchess.”

“Do you resolve to remain husband and spouse for all eternity?”

Mirane swallowed.

“…Yes.”

A brief silence followed.

Then the Grand Duke answered.

“…Yes.”

His hand gently covered Mirane’s.

Then…

With solemn reverence…

He kissed the back of Mirane’s hand.

“…Ah.”

A tiny gasp escaped Mirane before he hurriedly suppressed it.

Still holding his hand…

The Grand Duke slowly lifted his head.

Their eyes met.

For just one fleeting moment…

Reflected within those sea-blue eyes…

Mirane saw not an infamous monster—

But something resembling…

A lonely child.

Thus…

The wedding came to an end.

Afterward came the wedding banquet.

Mirane was introduced to the Grand Duke’s retainers.

One after another…

They knelt before him and swore their loyalty.

Whether northern people were simply sparing with emotion…

Or whether they still regarded Mirane as the son of a political enemy…

Nearly every knight wore the same expressionless face as they kissed the ring on his hand.

Among them…

The three knights he had first seen at the castle gates also approached.

Sir Straus came first.

Then Sir Rabe.

Finally…

Sir Edmund Linn.

The highest-ranking among them was Straus.

For the briefest instant…

Open hostility flashed across his face.

After curtly kissing Mirane’s ring, he bowed and stepped away.

Most of the remaining knights behaved much the same.

Only the knight bearing the wolf crest was different.

He smiled warmly.

“Allow me to sincerely welcome you to your rightful place.”

Mirane blinked.

“…Welcome?”

The blond knight chuckled.

“There are still many fools who complain.”

“But from today onward…”

“No one will dare look down on you.”

“Not even His Grace.”

Mirane answered calmly.

“No one has looked down on me so far.”

For some reason…

The knight burst into laughter.

“Edmund Linn.”

“A pleasure.”

After kissing Mirane’s ring, Edmund rose wearing the same gentle smile.

Though inwardly wary…

Mirane responded with his usual warmth.

Once the formal oaths concluded…

The true celebration began.

The people of the domain sang.

They danced.

Knights mingled with townsfolk.

Laughter echoed throughout the hall.

At the head table…

The Grand Duke spoke quietly with Sir Straus.

Meanwhile…

Mirane drank alone.

No one approached him.

Nor did he force himself into the crowd.

Eventually…

As the festivities settled into a comfortable rhythm…

Mirane quietly slipped away unnoticed.

Returning to his room…

He collapsed onto the bed.

Before he realized it…

Sleep overtook him.

He dreamed.

Mother…!

A small boy desperately reached upward.

Trying to catch the ankle of a beautiful woman soaring into the sky.

Her silver hair shimmered like spun moonlight.

Translucent wings carried her away.

The child reached toward her from the windowsill.

But he couldn’t catch her.

Only one delicate shoe remained in his hands.

Staring blankly at the beautiful bare foot slipping farther and farther away…

The boy despaired.

She’s leaving…

Again…

She’s leaving…

Gentle violet eyes looked back at him.

The young Mirane—

His face soaked with tears—

Cried out desperately.

Don’t go!

Please!

Don’t leave Father and me behind!

His scream echoed—

Then…

The grown Mirane opened his eyes.

“…Ah.”

Blinking away tears…

Mirane stared at the ceiling.

…That dream again.

A calm voice interrupted his thoughts.

“You’re crying.”

“…!”

Mirane sat upright.

Startled, words tumbled from his mouth.

“I’m sorry…”

“I must’ve fallen asleep…”

The answer was cold.

“There’s no need to cry like that.”

“I wasn’t planning to touch you.”

“Don’t make yourself look so pitiful, Mirane Laster.”

Silence filled the room.

Standing before him…

Was the Grand Duke.

Bathed in moonlight.

His piercing blue eyes shone beneath the silver mask.

Cold.

Steady.

As if carved from ancient stone.

Simply standing there…

The ruler of the North radiated overwhelming authority.

Mirane found it difficult to breathe.

A faint smile curved beneath the silver mask.

The Grand Duke spoke slowly.

“Tears.”

Before Mirane could answer…

The Grand Duke continued.

“What sort of rumors do they spread about me…”

“In the capital?”

Gathering himself, Mirane answered quietly.

“I judge people with my own eyes.”

“Not by rumors.”

He looked directly into the Grand Duke’s eyes.

The Grand Duke hesitated.

Mirane caught the brief disturbance in his expression.

“…Enough.”

His voice suddenly sharpened.

A murderous pressure filled the room.

“Your Grace…”

“I already know.”

“There’s no need for you to repeat them.”

Then…

His voice turned even colder.

“And I’ll tell you this beforehand.”

“Most of those rumors…”

“Are probably true.”

Mirane couldn’t respond.

The rumors… are true?

Looking up…

He saw something dark lurking beneath the silver mask.

The Grand Duke smiled.

Twisted.

Filled with contempt.

Hostility.

Mirane unconsciously trembled.

Then…

His gaze caught the cloth wrapped around the Grand Duke’s right hand.

No…

The dreadful rumors from the capital resurfaced.

He didn’t seem like that kind of man…

A hollow laugh nearly escaped him.

…I’m in trouble.

Without another word…

The Grand Duke reached toward him.

“Your father doesn’t love you.”

Mirane flinched.

Yet…

He didn’t move away.

Elegant fingers brushed through his soft brown curls.

The Grand Duke gently toyed with them.

Like a child absentmindedly playing with a treasured object.

Mirane’s face had gone pale.

Watching him…

A trace of mockery crossed the Grand Duke’s face.

Then vanished.

“Pathetic.”

Releasing his hair…

The Grand Duke spoke quietly.

“The choice is yours.”

“Mirane Laster.”

Those words made Mirane’s heart pound.

“If you wish…”

“I’ll leave this room.”

Startled…

Mirane instinctively glanced toward the bed.

His body stiffened.

Then…

Resolutely…

He answered.

“…No.”

A marriage unconsummated on the first night…

Could scarcely be called a true marriage.

Remembering the very purpose of this political union…

Mirane slowly raised his head.

He could have fled the capital.

He could have accepted Laisa’s offer.

He had chosen neither.

If so…

Shouldn’t he bear responsibility for that decision?

“…I…”

The Grand Duke watched him impassively.

Mirane gathered his courage.

“I came to Wicker…”

“To become your spouse.”

Finally steadying himself…

Mirane reached out.

His fingers gently grasped the Grand Duke’s robe.

Their eyes met.

Slowly…

Clearly…

Mirane spoke.

“I want…”

“To share this night with you.”

Taking one careful breath…

He lightly loosened the front of the Grand Duke’s robe.

A clean, refreshing fragrance drifted toward him.

His tense expression eased ever so slightly.

Then, in a quiet voice, Mirane asked—

“Will you allow me?”