Previously
Aracella and Damian discuss the complexities of their contract marriage, including the Vandermeer family's excessive dowry demands and the necessity of living in the capital's ducal residence to maintain Damian's influence.
The Duchess ordered her maid to conduct a background check on Aracella. No one in this world was entirely free of secrets when someone started digging.
On top of that, Aracella possessed a striking appearance that drew men's attention, so she was bound to have run into trouble in her relationships at least once.
Yet after waiting eagerly for the results, all she received was a single sheet of paper. Worse still, what was written on it was not at all what the Duchess had hoped for.
She had asked them to dig up dirt she could use to frame Aracella as a seductress who toyed with men, but all they had found was information about her beating them up!
the Duchess asked in disbelief.
The Duchess sighed. Aracella’s reclusiveness and refusal to get entangled in scandals were entirely too much like Damian.
They shared far too many traits she found irritating.
Even the beatings had been provoked with good reason, making it difficult to level any accusations against her.
the Duchess shouted in fury. Even in the worst case, crossing the Crown Prince could bring about total ruin.
As the maid shrank back in fear, the Duchess fell into thought.
Just then, another maid came rushing in, crying out.
The Duchess stared at the mahogany door before giving a nod.
The maid opened the door, and Damian walked in with steady steps.
the Duchess asked with a sullen look.
The Duchess gave him a look that suggested she thought he had lost his mind, looking her stepson up and down as she tried to divine his motives.
Damian stepped forward, his hands behind his back, and tossed the envelope containing the list of gifts sent to Aracella onto the table.
The Duchess knitted her brows, glancing back and forth between the envelope and him.
Damian cut her off coldly, his eyes turning glacial.
The gift list was merely the beginning; there would surely be more unreasonable demands in the future.
Before Aracella broke down and fled from this contract marriage, Damian intended to act preemptively.
the Duchess shrieked, leaping to her feet and pointing a finger at him.
Nothing could be more humiliating than having a dispute over excessive demands brought before the Imperial Court.
Furthermore, the Emperor was well aware of the political marriage arrangement between their families, so if he intervened, it would be impossible to object.
Damian spoke in a quiet voice as he stepped closer to the Duchess, tilting his head toward her as though whispering.
A sly smile played across his lips while the Duchess glared at him, her face flushed with fury at the sight of features so closely resembling her husband's.
Damian stepped back slowly and wiped the smile away, his face turning entirely expressionless.
“The boy who could do nothing when you broke his favorite toy no longer exists. Now, I will do whatever it takes to protect what is mine.”
Caught in the sharp glint of his golden eyes, the Duchess felt her legs tremble with fear, nearly collapsing.
Damian gave her an indifferent look, bowed slightly, and left the room.
The Duchess sank onto the sofa with the maid’s assistance, gritting her teeth in burning anger.
She then barked a sharp command at the maid.
Frederick opened the letter that had arrived with the gifts.
It was the first letter he had received from Aracella since the banquet, as there had been no contact between them since then.
Out of nowhere, Aracella had decided to write to him.
<To Frederick,
I don’t know why you’re angry, but stop sulking over nothing. I don’t have many friends, and I don’t want to sever ties with you when I’m about to get married.
If I did something wrong (though frankly I don’t think I did… I think you’re just throwing a tantrum for no reason…), then I apologize.
Write back once you’re in a better mood.
— Aracella.>
As Frederick read the letter, a faint smile formed at Aracella’s characteristically playful tone, but it vanished the moment his eyes landed on the word ‘married.’
His expression hardened with irritation. He rose and walked out into the garden, the servants trailing warily behind him while keeping a respectful distance.
Despite the pleasant sunlight and the flowers lining the paths, the atmosphere surrounding the Crown Prince was heavy and suffocatingly bleak.
‘I just can't understand it. No matter how much I think about it, I can’t accept this.’
Frederick knit his brows, tormented by his thoughts.
It was hard to swallow. Even if Aracella was not the sort to mind other people and rarely spoke of her feelings, it was impossible to believe there had been no signs whatsoever.
‘Even Paula hadn’t heard about it.’
He recalled the conversation he had shared with Paula just yesterday. When he had asked whether she had known in advance about Aracella’s marriage, she had replied,
None of it made any sense.
Setting aside the Hugo family, he and Paula were the closest people to Aracella. How could neither of them have known?
Besides, Frederick had always kept a watchful eye on the men who approached Aracella, driving them away without hesitation if anyone dared come near.
How had Damian Vandermeer managed to slip past that vigilance and start a relationship with her?
He had spent seven years watching Aracella, and his instincts told him something was not right.
As he walked along scowling, he caught sight of a man emerging from the council chamber and stopped dead in his tracks.
Brilliant silver hair, sharp and refined features, and golden eyes shining brighter than gold itself, wearing a uniform embroidered with crimson patterns.
It was Damian Vandermeer.
Frederick watched Damian’s broad shoulders as he strode away with confident steps, then called to one of his servants in a low voice.
Frederick was utterly convinced that if Damian Vandermeer posed any threat to Aracella, his duty as her friend of many years was to step in and drive him away.
Aracella was an active member of the Magic Tower who had been taken in by Philip, the current Tower Master, who had held the post longer than any other in history.
He had met Aracella while giving a guest lecture at the academy, and upon discovering her talent during her second year, he had not hesitated to take her on as his disciple.
He had cultivated her gifts extensively, training her in magic until he became her staunchest ally within the Magic Tower.
Philip chuckled heartily, stroking his beard over tea with his favorite disciple.
The two were seated in the Tower Master’s chambers at the very top of the tower.
He laughed again, louder this time.
Aracella had made that declaration in her late teens because of the unwritten tradition barring married female mages from becoming Tower Master, or even working within the tower.
Aracella smiled, offering a casual shrug.
Though it remained a secret from everyone else, she had chosen to be honest with her master so she wouldn't be eliminated from contention for the Tower Master’s seat over a contract marriage.
Philip chuckled again, his eyes sharpening as he asked,
Aracella offered no answer, quietly taking a sip of her tea instead.
Philip asked lightly, his bright eyes watching her closely.
Aracella answered coldly,
It was entirely true. Everyone knew Aracella’s unyielding nature, and for that reason they feared confronting her directly, though they never hesitated to whisper behind her back.
She knew her sister's life could not be traded for anything in this world.
Even if her path to becoming Tower Master grew harder, she had no intention of abandoning this marriage.
Philip smiled slyly and asked,
Handsome and strong though he was, she didn't see Damian Vandermeer as the kind of man she wanted to spend her life with.
Philip laughed again at his disciple's sheer confidence.
Though he was advancing in years, he felt there was still time to choose his successor carefully.
He wished to pass his position to the most capable of his students. So long as Aracella kept her promise to divorce, there would be no issue.
‘All that matters is that Aracella doesn’t fall truly in love like the others did.’
Yet Philip, having lost disciples to love before, could not help feeling a prickle of unease.