Chapter 7
Episode 7
At the hour when Edel had fallen into a deep sleep, an oil lamp still burned in Laslo's bedroom.
*What a headache.*
His chest was exposed through the loosely draped robe, but immersed in thoughts of the burdensome prisoner suddenly thrust upon him, he didn't even feel the chill.
"Edel Lancaster..."
The first time he saw her—the daughter of the Canian Count, whose reputation wasn't great, and who was said to soon become the Lancaster Duke's much-younger second wife—was two years ago.
Laslo still remembered that day clearly.
*Spoils of war*
*Duchess*
"What do you think, Crisus Count? Doesn't this make the imperial banquet quite the spectacle?"
The victory banquet celebrating the end of the final conquest war and the confirmation of the empire's borders.
That day, the grand banquet hall of the imperial palace was dazzling to the point of eye strain and teeming with so much hustle and bustle that it made one's head spin.
And in such a place, Emperor Dimarcus had deliberately made him the center of attention, teasingly calling him 'Crisus Count' as if mocking him.
*Written by ruly lemon frog*
"Well."
Laslo suppressed a sigh that threatened to escape and responded indifferently.
To him, the starry fields overhead, like a carpet of stars, seemed far more beautiful than the glittering, noisy imperial palace.
Moreover, the people here weren't particularly friendly toward him.
"That's the mercenary who just became a count?"
"So it seems. Just thinking about that scum trying to equate himself with us already turns my stomach."
"What in the world is His Majesty thinking?"
2
.
The people scorned him without much effort to hide it. However, Laslo scorned them in return.
*The remarriage partner for the Lancaster Duke? She's much younger than I expected. I know the marriage market formula in this world well enough, but...*
*These people are as vulgar as ever!*
The lady of the Canian Count who was to become the wife of the over-sixty Lancaster Duke looked no older than her early twenties, no matter how one saw it.
He couldn't tell if the nausea churning in his gut was due to the mingled scents of various perfumes or the nobles' malice.
Fine, the Canian Count was a vulgarian obsessed with forming a marriage alliance with one of the Four Great Houses. But for the Lancaster Duke—representative of the old nobility, with grown children and a long-time mistress—to accept such a marriage was worthy of condemnation.
And Dimarcus had predicted this situation perfectly yet remained brazen.
No matter how much one prefers youth and beauty, taking a woman young enough to be his daughter as a wife? Has he gone senile already?
"It's not hard to endure, is it? They're not particularly important people to you anyway."
"Nothing here is important to me."
On one hand, it seemed like birds of a feather. If she hated marrying an old man, she could have run away, but smiling there now meant she, like her father, had traded her beauty and youth for power.
"Hmm, we'll have to wait and see about that."
Her appearance aside, it was surprising that she was widely praised as the perfect material for a noble lady in terms of personality and accomplishments, but upon reflection, it was probably just rumors spread by her father.
He had no desire whatsoever to become a noble, but the cunning and shrewd Emperor Dimarcus had persuaded him in a way that made refusal impossible and seized him.
*That docile, refined face is probably the result of meticulous calculation too. Well, with a father like Dustin Canian, there's no way the daughter is any different.*
He shouldn't have contracted with such a shady character in the first place.
But it was hard to deny that she was beautiful.
*If only he hadn't been so greedy for money...*
Pure blonde hair without any mixed shades, smooth white skin, and deep green eyes reminiscent of a lush forest.
She was the typical flower of high society, but there was something subtly captivating about her that made the 'typical' descriptor feel insufficient.
Of course, even that greed for money wasn't for Laslo himself.
It was all just to marry his sister Lynia off to a good place, to be her solid support.
Others envied Laslo for suddenly becoming a great noble and immensely wealthy, but he didn't welcome it. He knew exactly how a noble from commoner mercenary origins would be treated without seeing it.
*The complete opposite of me.*
And he knew all too well how his sister would be treated in the nobles' marriage market.
He couldn't immediately pinpoint what made her the opposite, but in that moment, she just seemed that way.
"...?"
*Well, we'll probably never exchange even a word in the future.*
Thinking about it only irritated him.
Laslo deliberately clicked his tongue loudly enough for Dimarcus to hear, then sharply scanned the surroundings to fulfill his duty as the emperor's guard knight.
So he needed to turn his gaze away. But strangely, he couldn't detach his eyes glued to her.
What tales were being exchanged behind those frantically fluttering fans? The guards were all at their posts, those guys have suspicious eyes...
Whether because of the Canian Count and Lancaster Duke standing beside her, or the faint air of sadness he sensed.
Such thoughts rapidly flitted through his mind, and as his gaze swept one corner of the banquet hall, it suddenly stopped unwittingly.
"............Laslo."
What was that woman's name again?
"Hmm. Unexpected."
Not as notorious as him, the 'lightning noble,' but she was a woman who'd been quite the topic recently.
Laslo, still staring at her, belatedly realized Dimarcus was calling him.
.
