Previously
Isaac Wind delivers a letter from Aracella Hugo to Damian Vandermeer, which contains a blunt marriage proposal that Damian dismisses and burns. Three days later, Aracella arrives at the training grounds in person, insulting Damian's punctuality before being invited to his office.
Before the marriage proposal could turn into a duel.
Audrey, who had been anxiously watching from behind, hastily intervened and held Aracella back.
Audrey was desperate to protect her mistress's reputation and future.
Damian raised an eyebrow when he saw the maid clinging around Aracella's slender waist.
Touching her mistress without permission and speaking with such familiarity—the two seemed far closer than a typical maid and young noblewoman.
Firing a sharp barb at Damian, Aracella barely brought her temper under control and glared at him.
Damian replied coldly, then rose and opened the door. It was an unmistakable cue that she should leave at once.
Aracella let out a furious laugh and marched straight toward him. Looking him dead in the eye, she spoke.
Damian knit his brows at the unwavering confidence in her clear blue eyes.
Her next words, however, made his eyes widen.
Aracella threw him a haughty look and strode out the door.
Audrey caught his stunned gaze before hurrying after her mistress.
Unable to entirely believe or dismiss her words, Damian frowned as he watched her retreating back.
It was her elder sister and younger brother who greeted Aracella when she returned home.
Iris gently rolled her eyes and gestured toward their little brother.
Aracella looked at her younger brother, whose cheeks were quite flushed.
Clutching a sheaf of papers, Adrian stepped up to Aracella.
Aracella patted her brother's head as she took the papers from him.
Adrian flinched and looked down at the floor.
She quietly read what was written in neat handwriting, which clearly tried to appear grown-up.
—1. The other party is ugly.
—2. The other party is short.
—3. He is weaker than my sister, so he won't be able to protect her.
Although she had never faced Damian directly, Aracella firmly believed she would win.
Her opponent was an arrogant knight, and she was a proud mage.
—4. My sister's ideal type is a man with immense magic, but he might not have any.
That was actually a lie Aracella had once told to motivate Adrian to study magic.
The reasons Adrian listed after that were utterly nonsensical.
Yet there was one final reason that tugged at Aracella’s heartstrings.
—When Sister leaves, I will miss her too much. —I might cry.—
Adrian was the youngest of the three, eleven years younger than Iris and ten years younger than Aracella.
She felt a pang of pity for her little brother, knowing he had been all alone at home while both of his older sisters were away together at the academy.
Aracella called her brother's name softly.
Adrian’s face, which had briefly brimmed with anticipation, paled with disappointment.
His little shoulders slumped.
Aracella tenderly stroked the head of her younger brother, whose hair was the same pale purple as hers.
Iris spoke up, consoling their younger brother.
Adrian looked back and forth between his sisters, fidgeting with his fingers.
You’ll have to do the same when you grow up and get married.”
Hearing that he would have to live apart from his family if he married, Adrian shook his head vigorously.
The reason their parents had accepted Aracella's declaration of remaining unwed was largely that she was neither the heir nor the eldest child.
Marquis Hugo’s successor was Adrian, and the eldest child was Iris.
As the second child, Aracella was in a position where she had their full support to pursue whichever path she chose.
Aracella gently pinched her brother’s soft cheek without hurting him.
If Damian refused her proposal, the only remaining option was Oscar Vandermeer, whose path led to a bloodbath.
She wondered if her life would truly be safe married to a man who might already be plotting treason.
‘Though if he marries me, I’ll beat him senseless before I let him commit treason.’
A gentle hand rested on Aracella’s shoulder as she made up her mind.
Iris offered a serene, mature smile.
She had always been this way, shouldering the burdens and leaving the finest things for her younger siblings.
Even when Aracella announced she would remain single and become the Master of the Magic Tower, Iris had supported her without a single word of complaint; and whenever Adrian fled in exhaustion from his next set of lessons, she would willingly hide him in her room.
It was impossible not to love and follow such an elder sister.
From her composed voice, one could feel the deep sense of duty she carried as Marquis Hugo's eldest daughter.
Perhaps in the precognitive dream, Iris had married with that very same mindset, only to be unjustly executed for her husband's rebellion.
Those eyes from the dream, dry and hollow as kindling, overlapped with the vibrant eyes looking at her now.
A wave of emotion surged through Aracella.
There was no way she would ever let her sister die.
No matter what happened, she had to marry a Vandermeer.
Aracella rashly dismissed half the truth.
It was the only way to lift the weight of the arranged marriage from her sister’s shoulders.
Iris, who knew her little sister better than anyone, narrowed her eyes suspiciously.
Had Aracella been that simple, the family would never have found themselves in so much trouble over her antics in the past.
“…No? It’s not. The truth is, I’m smitten with Lord Vandermeer’s face.”
Aracella shook her head vehemently, terrified that admitting the truth would lead Iris to step forward and insist on taking her place.
Though they rarely kept secrets from each other, she could never reveal her precognitive dreams, leaving her no choice but to tell a white lie.
Wasn’t this the very sister so confident in her own beauty that she never spared another person's appearance a second glance?
Iris could not easily set aside her doubts.
Covering Adrian’s ears, Aracella shamelessly rattled off further reasons.
Iris’s eyes flickered slightly.
Aracella spoke with complete conviction, trying her best to persuade her.
Iris pressed a hand to her forehead in utter bewilderment.
She, too, had heard the rumors about Damian Vandermeer’s renowned good looks.
Even so, she had never imagined her little sister would be the type to fall for a handsome knight.
Aracella paused to think.
A marriage of love—wouldn't that make it much easier to overcome any opposition?
Making a swift decision, she gave a slow nod.
Aracella took back her words in her mind without a shred of hesitation.
‘Well, if I can’t marry the Lord, I’ll be in a bit of trouble…’
Aracella remained certain that he would need her.
Her certainty had only grown after seeing the wavering expression on his face before she left.
Soon enough, Damian Vandermeer would realize that neither of them had any better choice than each other.
With that thought in mind, Aracella took her little brother and elder sister by the hand and went inside.
Through his assistant, Colin, Damian looked into the arranged marriage between Duke Vandermeer and Marquis Hugo.
The findings were shocking.
Just as Aracella had claimed, the late Duke had left a will bequeathing his estate and title to whichever grandson fulfilled the arranged marriage sworn before the Emperor.
Naturally, Damian’s father, the current Duke, held the primary authority to name his successor, but everything changed if the one who held and verified the grandfather's will was the Emperor himself.
No matter how powerful a duke might be, he could never defy the Emperor’s decree.
Which meant the Emperor now held the true power to determine who would inherit the ducal seat.
During his lifetime, the late Duke had been the only person in the entire duchy on Damian’s side. He surely had not left such a will to his grandson out of malice.
What mattered was that the current ducal family had kept this truth entirely hidden from him.
Their intent was crystal clear.
Then, Damian’s long-sought desire for vengeance would finally be fulfilled.
In the shadows, Damian’s eyes gleamed like a predator’s.
He pulled a sheet of stationery and a pen from the drawer.
—To Aracella Hugo.
He began writing his belated reply.