Ch#120
Chapter 120"Both House Winblair and House Belington are currently unable to mobilize their knights due to issues erupting in their territories."
"Don't you find it suspicious? Of all times, both families dispatching their knights to their territories simultaneously."
The state religion of the empire, Askerism, forbade all fighting during the month of January, but conversely permitted aggressive responses to any conflicts occurring then as 'punishment for defying God's word.'
That was why no one dared move carelessly in January, yet incidents had broken out simultaneously in Winblair and Belington territories.
"You mean it's deliberate?"
"With knights in the capital, it'd be harder to maneuver, so they've sent them to the territories. They'll likely assemble near the capital by the time of the uprising."
It wasn't mere speculation.
With the Lancaster Duke family gone, the largest knight orders after the Imperial Knights Order belonged to Winblair Marquis and House Belington.
Thus, Dimarcus and Laslo had been closely monitoring their military movements.
"Moreover, dispatching 80% of their knights over mere peasant unrest or bandit sightings in the territories is highly unnatural. They know it looks suspicious, yet they're moving anyway—that means they're feeling the pressure too."
"Pressure...?"
"They're afraid His Majesty might strike first. After seeing what happened to Lancaster."
Even during the seemingly peaceful past year, the air of war had steadily thickened.
Dimarcus had devoted all efforts to curbing the overgrown power of the three great families, while they had fanned discontent by criticizing the emperor.
But the three great families couldn't attack Dimarcus recklessly—his national popularity was too high. His policies had righted long-dysfunctional systems and eased burdens on the populace.
"In the past, they'd have pressured the imperial family with funds or military might and acted as they pleased, but His Majesty now holds both firmly."
Dimarcus, once known only as the battle-mad crown prince, had actually gone to the battlefield to build his power.
Taking advantage of the four great families' diverted attention, he'd won over the princess of wealthy neighboring Maigar—the current empress—and married her immediately upon inheriting the throne five years ago after the late emperor's sudden death.
He'd also turned the Imperial Knights Order solidly loyal through shared warfare.
"I can just imagine the four great families stamping their feet in regret after His Majesty ascended. No need to witness it."
.
"Hiding his capabilities so thoroughly until claiming the throne—His Majesty is truly remarkable."
"He had no choice. If word got out he was capable, he'd have been assassinated before ascending."
In any case, as time passed and Dimarcus's reign continued, conditions worsened for the three great families.
Thus, they'd been lying in wait for a chance to sink their teeth into his neck.
"This time too. They probably planned to use the Edel issue as a spark. To claim justification and vilify His Majesty by any means."
"Having even that preempted must have them fuming."
"Naturally. But we must be extra cautious now. Enraged snakes are extremely dangerous."
Laslo handed the file he'd been holding back to Pete.
"Everyone, stay alert and prepare. War is not far off."
"Yes, sir!"
Pete replied sharply with military discipline, and Laslo patted his shoulder once before exiting the building.
Breathless, hectic days lay ahead.
By imperial law, the palace grounds required a small temple called Ides for the emperor, empress, and their direct descendants' worship.
Due to its purpose, access was limited to royals, and its prominent location made it well-known.
However, few knew of another Ides in the current palace.
"Everyone's probably forgotten this temple even exists."
Dimarcus murmured while surveying the Ides in the detached palace where his mother had ended her life by suicide.
The small temple, once covered in cobwebs and dust, had transformed into a fine ceremony hall in mere days.
"I apologize for altering a place bearing traces of the late empress."
"Apologize? I told you to use it."
As Laslo apologized once more, Dimarcus shrugged lightly.
An archaic imperial law stipulated: 'Only weddings conducted in a temple under a priest's auspices are recognized as formal noble marriages.'
But holding it in a capital temple would invite interference from the three great families, so they'd chosen this abandoned Ides.
After the palace owner's death, it had become a general temple, posing no issue for weddings.
"Sorry for the bride, but let's get it done as quickly as possible. Before they barge in."
"Thank you."
Laslo bowed briefly and surveyed the temple interior.
Being small and ultra-secret, guests were few.
Linia, Barbara, Dimarcus, Nathan, and from the mansion: Daisy, Celia, Laila—who were close to Edel—and finally Collette, mobilized for the bride's preparations. That was all.
Others couldn't come lest mansion absences arouse suspicion from watchers.
"Where's the priest?"
"Just arrived. A bit carsick from three carriage changes... but he'll manage the short prayers and vows."
Nathan, who'd fetched the priest, said nonchalantly.
"Then... let's begin."
Laslo nodded lightly and stepped outside the temple. Soon, as the priest ascended the altar and the pianist began the hymn on a small piano, he'd enter holding Edel's hand.
He asked Edel, who was getting final touches from Collette.
"Once it starts, there's no turning back. Are you truly alright?"
Standing before the temple doors, Edel was the sole radiant presence in this modest wedding.
The dress was a rushed alteration of ready-made, the bouquet unadorned.
Yet on her, everything seemed special and beautiful—to the point Laslo felt pangs of inferiority again.
"I'm more than fine—better than ever. Are you sure you won't regret it, Count?"
Despite cheeks chilled by January's cold air, Edel beamed softly like a spring goddess.
.
Marrying such a woman—regret was inconceivable.
"I don't start things I'll regret, and I don't regret things I've started."
Laslo placed her gloved hand on his forearm and spoke matter-of-factly.
"Dustin Canian called you someone with nowhere to lean in the world? From now on, that's me—so live freely, as you please."
'Live freely' rippled through Edel's heart.
To her, bound by noose-like conventions and living for others' eyes, this man—the freest in the world—was urging her to live as she wished.
And offering to be her support.
To her who'd endured lonely isolation, he vowed to be her sturdy fence—trust him.
'How does he always say exactly what I long to hear?'
Tears threatened.
She hadn't imagined, when paraded as spoils before all, such a future awaited.
'Trust divine providence and endure. Suffering is fleeting; the fruits of patience are sweet...' The scriptures held no falsehoods.
Edel resolved no more lamenting her life, abandoned even by birth parents. A radiant smile lit her face.
"I will. So lean on me too. A wife is her husband's haven."
Laslo hallucinated all the world's light pouring solely on Edel. 'Wife' echoed in his ears.
Edel... my wife.
This theatrical wedding suddenly thrilled him.
Feeling excitement for the first time, it took a moment to distinguish it from nausea.
Edel, vowing to be his haven, was so lovable and precious—he wanted to shower her with far better things.
"Sorry for such a wedding. Once things settle, I'll give you the grand one you deserve."
"No. I never want to endure that again. I love it just like this."
Edel gazed sincerely at apologetic Laslo.
Vast temple packed shoulder-to-shoulder, uncomfortable dress laden with jewels, exhausting procedures, grueling schedule without a sip of water...
Reliving that might make her faint on the spot.
'This is far better than then. Intimate, cozy... happy.'
Even this contract marriage with clear purpose felt more genuine.
At that moment, piano notes resounded from within.
Whatever Laslo felt, she'd vow 'to cherish her husband with love' without heartache or guilt.
"Edel."
"Yes."
"As you said earlier, for the duration of this marriage, you're my wife. No one can deny it. So from now on, call me by name."
Edel looked up at Laslo.
His clear brown eyes held not a trace of jest.
.
