I Married the Dragon I Killed
Chapter 110
The Arken Empire had to be superior to everything else.
Accordingly, the imperial carriage was half again as wide as any other, and its interior boasted a comfort akin to resting on clouds.
That carriage, which cost a village’s entire monthly operating budget just to move once, had set out on a long journey.
Its destination was a massive dome, shaped like a birdcage, situated in a remote location.
“We have arrived, Imperial Princess.”
The person who stepped out of the carriage was Olivia Arken.
She was a vision of beauty, truly the flower of the Empire.
Stepping inside, she found not the parched air of winter, but the lush vibrancy of spring.
“I will take your coat.”
“No. I’ll keep it on. It might be cold, after all.”
“This is the dress code established by the Grand Duke. I must ask for your cooperation.”
“…….”
Olivia removed her thick coat and followed the path.
She passed flower beds where rare blossoms from across the continent were meticulously tended, heading toward the artificial lake at the far end.
At the edge of the grounds sat a table overlooking the water.
“Oh, welcome, Imperial Princess.”
Contrasting with the brilliant blue of the spring garden, an old man with white hair and age spots greeted her, standing with a stiffly straight back.
It was Grand Duke Valdemar Golt, a high noble of the Arken Empire.
Olivia skillfully donned her mask and smiled.
“Greetings, Grand Duke Golt. As expected of the Empire’s most prestigious family, you enjoy your leisure in a truly magnificent place.”
“Ho ho, you flatter me. The scenery is good, and isn’t a place like this meant for enjoying the water and a few drinks? Come, please sit here.”
Valdemar pulled out a chair for her himself.
As Olivia sat, Valdemar’s hand brushed lightly against her shoulder.
“Cough, cough.”
Olivia coughed and leaned forward.
She chuckled softly and spoke playfully.
“Perhaps it is because of the long journey, but my throat is quite parched.”
“Oh dear, what were they doing inside, not even offering tea? Allow me to give you a drink.”
Valdemar moved toward the beverage stand himself.
“What kind of wine would you like?”
“Wine? That is a bit difficult……”
Olivia showed her reluctance with moist, shimmering eyes.
“I cannot handle alcohol very well……”
“Then why not take this opportunity to learn today?”
“I wonder. I am worried. They say a woman who enjoys wine is a temptress, do they not? I have no wish to become such a siren.”
“One should call her a wise woman who knows how to enjoy the arts with a gentleman.”
“I fear I shall never be a wise woman in my lifetime.”
Valdemar pushed persistently, but Olivia refused to the end.
Reluctantly, he offered her warm tea instead.
However, Olivia only made a show of sipping it; she did not actually drink.
She did not touch a single item of the food or drink Valdemar had prepared.
She was like a doll.
Though a smile graced her lips, her eyes never met Valdemar’s, and they held no spark of life.
Such a haughty attitude might have been offensive, but Valdemar’s eyes, curved like half-moons, stared at her intensely with delight.
His sticky lips parted as he exhaled an exclamation of admiration.
“Stella was exactly this age.”
She flinched.
Olivia’s face momentarily froze.
“She was truly beautiful then as well, but you, Imperial Princess, grow more beautiful by the day.”
Olivia hid her mouth behind her fan and smiled with her eyes.
“Ho ho, my mother was called a beauty capable of toppling nations. When golden blood and peerless beauty combine, is it not natural to be beautiful?”
“Ho ho! That is exactly right!”
The old Duke laughed heartily and reached out his hand slightly.
“They say you have reached marriageable age but have no man?”
Olivia gripped her teacup.
“Yes. It seems I have not found one yet.”
“Do not look too far. The person who will be your partner is closer than you think.”
“Oh, is that so?”
“What does age or appearance matter? If he is a man who cherishes you, a man with power, you must seize him by any means.”
“I shall take those words to heart. I will be sure to look.”
They were conversing, but the gears weren’t turning together.
Both Olivia and Valdemar were well aware of the situation.
She hoped he would grow weary and give up, but Valdemar was not an easy man to discourage.
Only after three hours of persistent courting and conversation did he finally release her.
“Shall we perhaps end our enjoyment here for today?”
“Thanks to you, I feel I am leaving after a very pleasant time.”
She didn’t even offer a polite lie about wanting to stay longer.
As she stood up to offer her farewells, Valdemar extended his hand.
Olivia looked down at the hand and tilted her head.
“What is it? Suddenly offering your hand.”
“Is it not a gesture for a handshake?”
There was no way she didn’t know.
“Oh, I see. Very well.”
Olivia moved to take his hand.
“Now, now. It is proper etiquette to touch bare skin when shaking hands.”
“A maiden of marriageable age finds it awkward and burdensome to hold a man’s hand.”
“You touched neither the food nor the wine I prepared, and you were half-hearted in your responses to my words. Surely you can grant me this one request of holding my hand?”
It was a threat.
A threat to grant his final request before he went to the Emperor to throw a fit about being offended.
Olivia felt the momentum was no longer in favor of refusal.
Reluctantly, she removed her glove and took his hand for a brief handshake.
No, it was a long handshake.
Whenever she tried to pull her hand away, he held on with surprising grip strength.
For a dying old man, his squeeze was incredibly powerful.
It felt as though she might scream from the pain in her hand.
“Will you not let go now?”
“Ho ho, I held on for too long. My apologies.”
Only then did Valdemar release her.
She gave a light nod and hurried out of the greenhouse.
Before heading outside, she caught a glimpse of a ceramic flowerpot.
The glaze made the surface so smooth it could serve as a mirror.
Grand Duke Valdemar Golt’s face was clearly visible.
His eyes were curved in a lewd smile, and he was greedily licking the hand that had just held hers.
Returning to the carriage, Olivia spoke to the escort knight who was about to close the door.
“Could you give me some perfume?”
“Yes.”
It was the rose perfume Olivia frequently used.
She opened the bottle and poured the entire contents over her right hand.
The slick oil ran down her hand and dripped onto the floor.
A thick scent of roses filled the carriage.
Despite the suffocating fragrance, she remained indifferent.
She wiped her hand repeatedly with a silk handkerchief embroidered with white thread.
Grand Duke Golt’s face floated in her mind.
That greedy face seemed to overlap with the Great Demon, Morax.
‘Filthy.’
Scrub, scrub.
‘Filthy, filthy.’
Scrub, scrub, scrub, scrub.
‘Filthy, filthy, filthy!!!’
She wiped and wiped again.
Eventually, her jade-white hand turned bright red and began to sting.
Could she not just peel this skin off?
She wanted to carve away every part that had touched Valdemar.
‘Grand Duke Golt…….’
The handkerchief in her hand crumpled.
Maintaining the mask had reached its limit.
Her porcelain mask shattered, twisting with rage.
‘How dare you mention that name?’
Stella Arken.
An older sister eight years her senior, she had been a woman kinder than anyone else.
Possessing both talent and beauty, she even had a wonderful fiancé she had chosen herself.
She had been Olivia’s role model when she was young.
But at some point, Stella changed.
It began on the day her engagement was broken.
It was because her fiancé had been arrested for treason and vanished like dew on the execution grounds.
From then on, the flower that was always bright and beautiful withered and grew haggard.
In Olivia’s final memory of her, Stella’s hair, once like golden silk, had been cut short.
—Olivia.
A cracked voice.
—Is the scenery of the Empire not truly beautiful?
Her body was precariously balanced on the terrace railing.
Olivia had spoken to her with a worried expression.
—Unnie, it’s dangerous to be in a place like that.
—Fufu, that is why you must step back from me, Olivia. Today, you must do so.
—Please come down, unnie.
—Stand there and listen to me well. Olivia is a good girl, right?
—Yes, unnie…….
She had smiled.
There was no warmth in it.
Olivia did not act spoiled.
—What is it that flows through our bodies?
Stella asked.
—Golden blood. I heard our blood flows golden.
—Fufu, innocent Olivia. I wish you could keep that innocence forever, but…… you must wake up from the dream now.
Stella’s body tilted.
—Please, see it clearly with those two eyes.
She threw herself off.
Young Olivia thought wings would suddenly sprout from her sister’s back and she would become an angel.
But there was no angel.
Instead, only her sister’s corpse, fallen on the ground, filled her vision.
It was like a single flower blooming.
Short-cropped yellow hair was the center of the flower. Red petals blooming outward.
Finally obtaining freedom…….
She watched the bloom until a servant rushed over to cover young Olivia’s eyes.
Stella was the worst sister.
She showed her young sibling a cruelty that should never have been seen.
But it was also her final kindness, revealing the truth and the cruel fate of the Arken bloodline.
And through Stella’s favored servant, she even learned the secret behind that death.
The cause of that death was Grand Duke Golt.
He had long ago coveted the young Stella and wanted to possess her.
In his obsession, he had framed Stella’s fiancé and had him brutally executed.
Then he sent a message.
That to obtain her, he would destroy everything she loved.
The one who cooperated with him was the Emperor.
Even the 1st and 2nd Princes, blinded by power, had tried to sell their own sister to gain immense authority.
That was the fate of those called the flowers of the Empire.
Innocence was a luxury an Imperial Princess could not afford.
‘My sister, who died because of you.’
With that filthy mouth, how dare he.
How dare he!
She swallowed back the urge to scream and throw a fit of hysterics.
Even if there were no eyes watching now, there were ears listening.
What lay behind this mask of innocence must never be discovered by anyone.
‘This is the only weapon I have.’
She would go about wearing the mask every man liked.
And by wearing that mask, she would use them as her hands and feet.
‘But that wasn’t enough.’
Using men meant she could never truly escape from them.
She wanted to spread her wings and be free in the truest sense.
The breakthrough she found for that purpose was only one.
‘A Saintess.’
Becoming a devout follower of Alte and seizing a status equal to the Pope.
That was the only way to resist this cursed destiny of blood.
The reason she could even harbor such a possibility was because Olivia possessed holy power.
Publicly, it was known that she gained enlightenment and was graced with divinity while understanding the doctrines of Alte.
But as is always the case, history is often packaged; Olivia’s actual awakening began with a tragedy.
On the day she witnessed Stella’s death, Olivia felt something rotating deep within her chest.
She was too innocent to know then, but as she grew older, she was able to conceptualize it.
A Red Circle was spinning inside her body.
‘To reach the status of a Saintess, at least the fifth enlightenment is required.’
In mage terms, it was only possible upon reaching the 5th Circle.
Olivia was currently at the stage of the third enlightenment.
She was at the level of a traveling village preacher, capable of simple healing and light magic.
Since she couldn’t gain enlightenment alone, she needed help.
The assistance of the High Priest was out of the question.
That man was still in league with the Emperor.
Therefore, she needed the help of the Holy Emperor of the Holy Kingdom, Odograsa.
He was a true saint who broke her prejudice that all men were the same.
Olivia had sought his advice, and his answer was this:
—To be graced by God does not mean merely staying inside a cathedral. You must feel and accept that He is always watching you and is behind your back.
Hearing those words, Olivia thought:
There are a carriage-load of such bastards around me; were they gods?
Well, in a way.
Useless bastards.
Because such cynical thoughts came first, it was even harder to accept the existence of a god.
So she carefully requested further guidance.
Then the Holy Emperor replied:
—It is difficult because you feel you must simply believe in God. Try to love God, Imperial Princess. Then, the calling of God will surely reach you.
He said that love comes from keeping the commandments.
She had even completed her vow of revenge against her kin and moved according to the commandments of Alte for several years, but her mana circuit remained motionless.
The calling of God did not come.
It was only natural.
Because that could not be called love.
‘Love…….’
What is love?
They say it comes if you love, but she didn’t know the emotion of love.
They say you can feel it in a gaze, but the eyes directed at her always passed through her chest.
The man who was the High Priest of the Alte Religion was the same.
However, because of that gaze, she was a bit confused whether the saying that love is done with the heart meant they loved her breasts.
‘Love is just a mass of tumors made of lust.’
Every man had one of those tumors.
Since all that accumulated was loathing, she thought she would never know what love was.
But recently, even that thought had been challenged.
‘Ferda Valdrova.’
His image suddenly came to mind.
His tall stature, gray hair, and deep lake-blue eyes.
His seemingly cynical expression and his resolute actions.
‘Part of it is because he has power backing him, but…….’
He has the power of execution, and the people around him are outstanding and virtuous.
As the perception grew that the Far East was somewhat safe, there were even young people within the Empire leaving to work there.
Those are not phenomena that can be achieved simply by relying on prestige.
‘Above all…….’
His eyes had never once shown lust.
At first, she was curious.
How long could he keep that up?
She had done things that would have shaken even married men or knights faithful to their vows, but his heart was immovable.
So it was annoying.
It made her feel like a fool for thinking all men were the same.
No, she was a fool.
Ferda was currently working hard to make the Far East a second capital.
Wasn’t she the only one failing to keep the promise of becoming a Saintess and being of help?
‘At this rate, how am I any different from those noble ladies whose heads are filled with flowers?’
It was unacceptable to Olivia.
She was just standing in place, contributing nothing to him.
She was supposed to be an ally standing on equal footing, yet he was the one pulling ahead.
‘Indeed, all men are the same.’
In the sense that they somehow managed to irritate her, they were consistent.
The irritation inside her felt like it was poking at her brain.
She looked out the window to change her mood.
The blue sky and the parched earth of winter.
While nothing caught her eye clearly, a single dot suddenly snagged her vision.
“Stop.”
The carriage stopped at her instruction.
Just in case, she stepped out to check again.
Perhaps she was mistaken.
But looking closely, she realized it was no mistake.
‘That man is…….’
It was Ferda Valdrova.
And the person beside him must be Valdrova’s maid.
‘Why is he in a place like this?’
Searching the map in her head, the Rosnova family estate was nearby.
Had he stopped by his family home for a moment and sat there?
She took a step toward him, intending to offer a greeting.
But her feet wouldn’t move any further.
The sight of Ferda she saw again was too heavy.
He was powerless, unlike the man who at least kept his back straight and wore a cold expression.
‘A weak appearance…….’
Olivia loathed such sights.
To her, someone revealing their wounds was the same as showing a weakness.
In the noble world, a weakness is like a piece of meat smelling of blood.
Piranha-like nobles would bite into that wound instantly.
A person who could not withstand the weight of nobility was of no use to her.
“……How pitiful.”
Olivia was startled by the words she had uttered herself.
Did she just say he was pitiful?
That she was truly sympathizing with that man?
She thought she might be mistaken.
But instead of a sigh of patheticness, her heart began to ache.
‘Why?’
Olivia chewed over the meaning of this unfamiliar emotion.
What am I hoping for from that man?
It frightened even Olivia herself, but she did not let go of that sensation.
Unconsciously, she placed both hands over her chest, overlapping them.
Olivia’s gaze held him, and she let her emotions lead.
Licking the tears he might shed, she savored the sorrow.
That feeling swelled more and more, and eventually, the two hands on her chest pressed together.
As if offering a prayer.
‘If I.’
Olivia felt it for the first time then.
‘If I could become a support for that man…….’
Not contempt for helplessness, but compassion.
That was when it happened.
“Ah.”
She began to feel a strange sensation within her body.
The biggest reason she couldn’t become a Saintess,
The thing that wouldn’t move no matter how much she deceived herself into being a devout believer,
It was moving.
This was undoubtedly the love for God that the Holy Emperor had spoken of.
She finally realized.
‘Ferda…….’
That he was the god she should harbor in her heart.
