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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 16
Chapter Title: Wedding Preparations (7)
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The second son, whom he found difficult to face, arrived around noon.
The Duke sat facing his son, a look of discomfort on his face. He had already heard that four of the mercenaries dispatched by the guild had returned in a vegetative state, and the remaining one had been taken by Aracilla.
His son, who resembled him in every way except for his eyes, which were uncannily like his mother's, crossed his legs, not losing his composure in front of him.
"You have no manners, Demian."
"Could I possibly compare to a father who sent an insolent 'gift' to his son's fiancée?"
"Gift? What gift are you talking about?"
The Duke feigned ignorance. Demian, looking unfazed, slightly curled the corner of his lips. His father was always the type to pretend not to know anything when it was inconvenient for him.
He was despicable, petty, and utterly narrow-minded.
He took out a neatly folded paper from inside his military jacket and handed it over. It was a sworn statement extracted from the mercenary through torture last night.
"Choose."
"Choose what?"
The Duke, having confirmed the contents of the statement, asked back without revealing his pale complexion. Demian spoke with an impassive face.
"Will you stay quiet until the wedding while I dispose of the captured mercenary by passing him off as a bandit, or will you elevate your son's image as a devoted man who even exposed his own father for the sake of his beloved?"
The Duke's hand, resting on the armrest, trembled slightly. Unable to contain his rage, he bellowed.
"You scoundrel! How dare you threaten your own father?!"
"I've heard enough of that from the Duchess, so spare me. All you need to do now, Father, is choose from the options I've given you."
His unfeeling gaze, impossible to believe belonged to a son addressing his father, bore down on the Duke, pressuring him. The Duke, clenching his teeth until his jawbone protruded, racked his brain.
If this matter became public, Demian would indeed suffer a blow. The Marquisate might even be enraged and oppose the marriage.
That's why Demian hadn't immediately reported his father, but had personally come to blackmail him.
"If it comes out that I did such a thing to Lady Hugo, do you think I'd be the only one to suffer?"
"We'd both suffer, yes. But who do you think would incur greater damage? Especially if His Majesty were to find out."
Against his father, who was momentarily speechless, Demian continued speaking in a flat tone.
"No matter what you do, Father, I will not give up on this marriage. And Lady Hugo feels the same way. Can't you tell, seeing as she personally handed the mercenary over to me?"
In truth, under normal circumstances, Aracilla would have dragged the mercenary to the authorities. But her current goal was the marriage, so she had brought him to Demian.
For him to use as a sword against his own family.
The Duke finally realized.
As long as Aracilla Hugo and Demian Vandermir were in agreement, the marriage could not be stopped.
The union of a 'freak' and a 'stubborn one' was so solid, it was difficult to break.
"Choose, now."
At his son's cold urging, the Duke reluctantly opened his mouth.
"...Since your fiancée was attacked by bandits, I don't know what condolences to offer."
"Don't worry. I anticipated that, and I've prepared everything."
Demian, smiling like a picture, pulled out another sheet of paper from his pocket.
It was none other than a written pledge agreeing to the marriage of Aracilla Hugo and Demian Vandermir.
"Hmph..."
"All you need to do, Father, is sign."
Demian handed the pen to the Duke, who wore an incredulous expression. A sarcastic remark about Demian's truly remarkable preparedness rose to the Duke's throat.
In the end, however, the Duke affixed his handwritten signature to the pledge. Demian, with a satisfied look, handed over the statement, collected the pledge, and departed.
After he disappeared, the Duchess came in and looked at her husband with a worried expression.
"Dear, are you alright? What on earth did Demian say?"
Instead of answering, the Duke flung the statement at her and slammed his fist down.
It was absurd that those fools couldn't even handle one young woman and caused such a mess.
'They said if the mission failed, they'd silence themselves through suicide! Useless wretches!'
Of course, Aracilla had bound them with magic before they had a chance, but the Duke, not thinking that far, fumed and lit a cigar.
He took a deep puff and exhaled, and it seemed to calm his seething insides a little.
Meanwhile, the Duchess, having read the statement, put a hand to her forehead, on the verge of collapsing.
"What are we going to do now, dear?"
The Duke, gesturing for his sobbing wife to be silent, fell into thought.
'I've messed up too many things.'
There had been several failed attempts to obstruct the marriage. Because of that, he had given them too much ammunition.
If he meddled further, he might only make a fool of himself and lose other things besides.
"It seems we'll have to let them marry as is."
The Duke spoke after a long silence. If he clung on any longer, it would trigger a backlash. He had to retreat.
"What? But dear, considering Father's will, we must stop it somehow..."
"It doesn't matter. As long as I'm alive, Demian can't take the ducal title, no matter if he marries Hugo's daughter."
The succession of the title didn't happen simultaneously with the marriage. It merely designated the grandson who married Hugo's granddaughter as the successor.
But even that would remain unknown if the Vandermir Ducal Family didn't announce it publicly.
The Emperor, while wishing to honor his friend's will, was a cunning old fox who didn't actively want to get involved in the ducal family's succession struggle.
"We'll just have to plan for the future."
"Even so..."
"Enough! If you had handled things properly from the start, it wouldn't have come to this!"
The Duke, blaming his wife for no reason, lost his temper. The Duchess flinched and apologized.
"I-I'm sorry."
"Ugh!"
The Duke, unable to control his temper, kicked the table and stormed out. Oscar approached the Duchess, who was left alone and dejected.
"Mother, are you alright?"
"My Oscar, you're the only one I have."
The Duchess spread her arms wide and hugged her son. Oscar patted her back briefly before pulling away.
What he was curious about wasn't his mother's mood, but Demian's marriage.
"So, Demian is really going through with the marriage?"
"It seems there's no other way. But don't worry too much. The Vandermir Ducal Family is yours."
The Duchess gripped her son's hand tightly. No matter what, she would make it so.
Facing his determined mother, Oscar, quite irrelevantly, was thinking of Aracilla. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, too precious to give to his half-brother.
'Couldn't I just seduce her and stop the marriage myself?'
Oscar's lips twitched into a smirk, thinking thoughts that would make his parents faint if they knew. Playing with women like toys and then discarding them was his specialty.
There were already numerous victims within the Vandermir Duchy.
'No woman I've ever tried to seduce has failed to fall for me!'
The Duchess herself possessed a rather fine appearance, and Oscar, having inherited it, was considered a handsome man by others. Though he might not compare to Demian, didn't he have the position of the eldest son, supported by the family?
If he used those advantages to entice Aracilla, she would surely fall head over heels, just like all the other women.
* * *
The day before the wedding, the prenuptial agreement was finalized.
Demian and Aracilla visited the temple, using the excuse of submitting their marriage registration. Their main purpose was to notarize the agreement, but this way, no one would find their presence at the temple unusual.
"I'd prefer it if you could inherit the ducal title within five years, Sir. I'd like to get divorced quickly."
"The feeling is mutual. Don't worry, I'll dedicate my every effort."
Walking through the temple corridor, the two conversed quietly. From a distance, they looked quite amicable.
Since they had announced it as a love match, they had to maintain an amiable appearance in public.
In the temple's reception room, while waiting for the priest who would notarize the document, Aracilla reviewed the agreement again.
During the past month of wedding preparations, the prenuptial agreement was what they had put the most effort into. They had fiercely annotated and drafted clauses, each trying to minimize their own loss.
She fixed her gaze on the final clause of the agreement.
"During the contract period, neither party shall, under any circumstances, fall in love with the other."
As if by prearrangement, this phrase had popped out of both their mouths simultaneously when setting the final clause.
Neither Demian nor Aracilla wanted to face the messy situation of the other falling in love and clinging to them.
"Sir, just in case, I'll warn you again."
"......?"
Aracilla, wearing a lavender-colored dress that matched her hair, looked Demian straight in the eyes and said.
"No matter how charming I am, you mustn't fall for me. My work is more important than love."
"...As if I wouldn't know."
Demian replied with a somewhat incredulous expression. For him, revenge was just as important as love.
"Lady, your confidence is always excessive."
"Wouldn't anyone be, if they looked like this? Besides, since I was little, there have been many men who pretended to dislike me or be uninterested, only to confess their feelings later."
There were quite a few men who, despite being interested in Aracilla, would needlessly torment her out of bruised pride because she was indifferent to them.
Then, they would confess their feelings much later, which Aracilla found utterly absurd and unpleasant.
"Among them, some were so extreme they tormented me. Of course, I kicked those guys until they exploded."
"...Exploded what?"
"Would you like me to elaborate?"
Demian, feeling a dizzying sensation from her angelic smile, waved his hand.
"No, thank you."
Just then, the high priest who would perform the notarization entered the reception room. He was a trustworthy man, known for his long career and integrity.
"Welcome. I am Priest Taylor. What is it you two wish for me to notarize?"
"This prenuptial agreement."
The priest, appearing to be between middle and old age, calmly examined the agreement Aracilla presented.
Even though he knew the marriage that had stirred up society was a sham, he remained perfectly calm and unperturbed.
"All matters related to this agreement must be known only to the three of us present here."
At Demian's stern demand, the priest nodded. By temple regulations, a priest performing notarization was strictly forbidden from disclosing any related information externally.
"As a servant of the god Stenia, who protects the Cetron Empire, I swear. All conversations we have had and all documents exchanged will be kept strictly confidential."
"Thank you, Priest."
The two had the priest notarize the agreement, left a copy with him, then took their own copies and exited.
"Well then, I'll see you at the wedding tomorrow."
"Yes, see you tomorrow."
Demian and Aracilla, exchanging farewells as if they were attending someone else's wedding, turned and went their separate ways.
It was the last day the two would depart in opposite directions.
* * *
"They met with the notarizing priest?"
Frederick, listening to the report from the subordinate he had assigned to watch Aracilla, raised an eyebrow. They said they went to the temple to submit their marriage registration, but why a notarizing priest?
'It's not like there was no one to notarize their marriage.'
Aracilla was on good terms with her family, and Demian had the Red Hawk Knights. There was no particular reason to ask a priest to notarize their marriage.
"Did you find out what they had notarized?"
"My apologies, Your Highness. I couldn't ascertain that much."
Frederick tapped the desk. Aracilla, who had boldly claimed to have been secretly meeting with Demian, came to mind.
'Why would you go see Sir Vandermir and a notarizing priest, Aracilla?'
Unless you made some kind of deal, there's no reason for you to meet a notarizing priest.
The suspicion in his crimson eyes deepened. He took out the documents he had received from his subordinate a few days ago. It was a summary of the results of Demian's background investigation.
It contained information that a political marriage had been arranged between the Vandermir Ducal Family and the Hugo Marquisate.
'As expected, it's not a marriage born of love, is it?'
A quiet chuckle escaped Frederick's lips. He didn't yet know what was at stake in that marriage, but this much was enough to draw a conclusion.
Aracilla wasn't marrying because she genuinely liked Demian Vandermir. She was doing it out of unavoidable circumstances.
'Poor Aracilla. Don't worry, I'll save you.'
Frederick's smile deepened. It was always the prince's job to save the princess captured by the enemy.
"Dig up what those two had notarized from that priest. I don't care if you threaten him or persuade him."
He commanded his subordinate with a fresh, pleasant expression. The sunset blush shyly tinted his pale face.
