Previously
Dolores approaches Dowager Marchioness Lindinis during her evening walk, abandoning shallow political flattery to bond with the grieving matriarch over human memories and grief.
This arrangement was not real.
Dolores had once trailed endlessly after his brother.
Yet in the end, she had chosen him simply to escape Adrian.
‘As a kind of tool.’
It was Dolores who had initiated a union devoid of a single shred of sincerity.
Such a woman would never change, so why did he feel compelled to do anything?
Like a ‘real husband’ making the first overture to patch things up?
“Insanity.”
He gritted his teeth against the abhorrent word.
Husband? Whose husband?
Dolores’s?
A sickening nausea churned his stomach, as if he had swallowed muddy water.
What did he know about a normal marriage?
Born to a woman whose utter naivety had ruined an entire empire…
and a monster who had deceived her, turning her into a laughingstock of an Empress.
“Ha.”
Resurreccion shuddered at the grotesque thought.
Still, even in a sham marriage, should one not give credit where credit was due?
Resurreccion summoned the butler waiting outside.
“Bertrand.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“Fetch me a jeweler. One who deals in diamonds.”
The following afternoon.
The jeweler, abruptly dragged to the Grand Ducal townhouse, blinked in utter bewilderment.
It was true that he handled more diamonds than anyone else in the capital.
Even so, he had never imagined he would be rounded up and hauled off like a common criminal.
…And brought straight before none other than Grand Duke Resurreccion, the talk of the entire city.
‘Good heavens, he looks terrifying.’
Was this not what people meant when they said a man’s body froze at the sight of a tiger?
Though the Grand Duke was undeniably handsome, the jeweler was merely a man, and chills of pure fright prickled his skin.
Still, summoning his professional composure, he mustered the best smile he could manage.
“Y-Your Highness. It is an honor to be summoned. What manner of piece might you be looking for…?”
“Something for the Grand Duchess.”
“Ah, of course!”
“Just bring out something decent.”
“Something… decent…?”
Was there any request in the world more difficult than that?
It meant presenting a diamond that was clean yet opulent, dazzlingly radiant without looking gaudy or cheap.
‘I’d rather he just kill me.’
Trembling, the jeweler carefully brought out a ring case.
‘H-how about this one…?’
The gem was of respectable size, cut with an elegance that would flatter any slender finger.
Yet Resurreccion’s glare alone posed the question:
‘What is this?’
What on earth was this piece of trash?
If he asked for something decent, it should at least be well above average. What was this rubbish?
…Understanding everything without a word being spoken, the jeweler offered a strained smile.
“Forgive me. I seem to have opened the wrong case by mistake.”
“I should hope so.”
“Yes, well, this one is the true—”
“…”
“…My apologies. It is the other one.”
Before prying open the third case with trembling fingers,
the jeweler cast a pleading gaze toward Bertrand, who had dragged him here.
‘Why did you bring me here! Spare me, please!’
Bertrand, however, merely returned an awkward smile with his eyes.
‘I am terribly sorry… You happen to be the most reputable jeweler in the city.’
‘Aaargh!’
‘Do your very best. You will be compensated handsomely above market price.’
The jeweler wept bitter tears inwardly.
‘Save me…’
He was nothing more than an unexpected casualty in the marital spat of the Grand Ducal couple.
By nightfall, the jeweler was on the verge of tears.
Thanks to his ordeal, however, Resurreccion managed to settle on a gift that was ‘careless, yet far from careless.’
It was a set featuring a rectangular-cut diamond necklace and matching earrings.
Fine jewelry suited for a formal evening banquet.
‘Well, she does carry that embarrassing moniker, the Diamond of the Empire, or whatever it was.’
Without a word of preamble, he thrust the case toward Dolores.
“Here.”
“…?”
Dolores accepted the case with a bewildered expression.
“What is this…?”
“A token of gratitude for this matter.”
“Pardon?”
“The succession is settled. Thanks to you getting along with the Dowager Marchioness.”
“Ah…”
It seemed things had worked out in the end, quite unintended.
Yet Dolores could not bring herself to open the case, merely turning it over in her hands.
Though offered with good intentions, her hands turned stone cold.
Her husband…
Adrian, that is, used to do things like this.
‘Inflicting a wound, then tossing over a gift as if granting a grand favor.’
Like when he returned from a holiday spent with Angelica.
Or after he forced Dolores to hold Alexis’s hand in public at formal state affairs.
‘I knew it. Dolly, you truly have the kindest heart in the world.’
Coaxing Dolores as she fought back tears in the corner, he would smoothly slide a gift into her lap.
‘Thank you, Dolly. When you are understanding like this, everyone is happy.’
Every time, she had thought the same thing.
Please, keep your gifts; could you simply refrain from hurting me in the first place?
‘Before you hack my heart to pieces and pretend to dab on an ointment.’
Could you not acknowledge that she, too, was a human being with feelings?
‘I can’t. If I force it open, I might vomit.’
As Dolores’s silence dragged on, Resurreccion tilted his head in mild discomfort.
Why wasn’t she opening it?
‘I need to know whether she even likes it.’
He hadn’t expected her to leap for joy.
He had imagined, at most, a pouting laugh followed by a playful scolding.
He certainly hadn’t expected her face to drain of all color, as if she were holding an explosive.
Before long, Dolores forced her lips into a smile.
“Thank… you. After the trouble I caused at the salon, you really didn't need to.”
“It worked out in the end. Even I know it was thanks to you.”
“Then I am glad.”
Dolores placed the case onto the side table with an amiable smile.
At the sight, Resurreccion’s brow twitched.
A dull, aching throb tightened in his chest.
And in equal measure, his pride took a brutal blow.
He had called it ‘decent,’ but he had taken genuine care to select pieces suited to her.
Could she not at least pretend she wanted to try them on?
‘Ha! What a fool I am.’
This was why it was a waste of effort.
‘What need is there for consideration in a sham marriage anyway?’
Dolores smiled, her usual composure fully restored.
“So, I truly managed to be of help to Your Highness this time, didn’t I?”
“…Well, we still have a long road ahead.”
“I intend to do my utmost for the duration of our contract. But there is a favor I would like to ask in return.”
“Hm? What is it?”
“It concerns my brother.”
Back when she was preparing for this marriage, she had recalled three events destined to erupt in the near future.
‘The imperial wedding, the unrest in Anglesey, and finally…’
‘The gaming house craze.’
It was the critical incident where her older brother, James, would squander their fortune in spectacular fashion.
And to make matters worse, he would put up her own inheritance, the Silberg Fief, as collateral.
‘Auctioned off through the Sub Rosa merchant guild and sold for pennies.’
An even more staggering truth had followed.
…A top-tier emerald mine was later discovered in the Silberg Fief.
James had writhed in bitter regret.
And Dolores had fainted upon discovering that her mother’s legacy had been pawned off for a pittance behind her back.
‘I will not stand by and watch that happen this time.’
Resurreccion raised an eyebrow.
“Why? Do you want to throw the Young Marquis in prison?”
“I would prefer something far milder than that, if possible. Ah!”
“…Changed your mind already?”
“No, it’s not that… We also ought to arrange a gathering with my family sometime.”
Custom dictated that after a marriage, the Grand Ducal couple should have shared tea at least once with the bride’s household.
They had skipped it simply because Dolores had practically cut ties with the marquisate.
Yet when debts were to be repaid, one had to watch from the closest possible vantage.
‘And Angelica.’
Having caused her so much trouble, shouldn’t she be trampled on by an equal measure?
“A certain young lady has been going around claiming you intend to discard me. Will you join me in proving her wrong?”
The luncheon between the Grand Ducal couple and the marquis’s family came together with astonishing speed.
For all the slander exchanged behind closed doors, ties between high nobility and the imperial family could not be severed so easily.
However, Resurreccion adamantly refused to let the Rochester family set foot inside his townhouse.
“I’ve already made my sacrifice once with that Quack-quack.”
“…”
Faced with his unyielding defense of his territory, Dolores cleanly conceded.
Furthermore, Marquis Rochester was equally reluctant to invite the Grand Ducal couple into his own residence.
In the end, that left Saint Blaise Restaurant in the capital.
It boasted sophisticated private dining rooms for nobles and a cellar holding over a thousand bottles of fine wine.
Yet looking up at the elegant red building, Resurreccion let out a quiet sigh.
“Even Purgatory has restaurants, it seems.”
“At least you didn’t call it Hell.”
“Hell would be dining alone with His Majesty the Emperor.”
“…”
Dolores offered no argument to that.
The Emperor’s excessive attention was beginning to grate on her nerves, especially as he kept sending medicinal herbs meant to aid conception.
‘It really is rather strange.’