Chapter 2: Chapter 1: The Strange Bride (1)

The House of Abalov is one of the most prestigious families in the Saxon Empire.

Furthermore, because the late Emperor’s sister married into the family, the current Marquis and the Emperor are first cousins, cementing a deep bond between them.

The heir to this illustrious house, twenty-four-year-old Erwin Fleethelm Abalov, stood alone in his imperial capital townhouse, hesitating.

—She’s probably still awake. ...It is the wedding night, after all.

Erwin leaned back in his office chair and ran a hand through his blond hair. His eyebrows, a shade darker than his hair, were bold and masculine; paired with his upturned grey-blue eyes, they gave him a cold impression.

He had married only half a day ago. Moreover, it was a marriage devoid of an engagement period or a public ceremony—a situation that was not merely unusual for a nobleman, but practically unheard of.

To make matters worse, his father, Rutger Abalov, who served as the nation’s Ambassador, was currently abroad and remained entirely unaware that his son had even married. In an aristocratic society where marriage is viewed as a union between houses, this was an unthinkable state of affairs.

Erwin clasped his hands behind his head, stretched out his long legs, and stared gloomily at the patterns on the ceiling.

The successor to a prestigious noble house, blessed with an appearance that could make anyone envious.

He was often described as such in social circles, but those words were woefully insufficient to capture the full picture.

He was the closest confidant to the Empire’s sole prince, and despite his low rank in the line of succession, he held a claim to the throne himself.

His maternal grandfather, who wielded immense influence in the House of Peers, doted on Erwin more than any of his other grandchildren; rumor had it that Erwin’s name sat at the very top of the man's will. On top of that, the income from the Abalov estates was astronomical, making him one of the three wealthiest men in the Empire.

As if that weren't enough, he possessed his father's imposing physique and the renowned beauty of his mother. His peers were beyond jealousy; they could only stare in admiration. Since the Crown Prince was still only fifteen, Erwin was undoubtedly the gentleman who drew the most attention and the most fervent gazes from the women of high society.

With a heavy sigh, Erwin slowly stood up.

The sprawling Abalov townhouse featured a separate wing for the heir. That was where Erwin currently was, and a bedroom for the young couple had been prepared a short distance from his office. Having made up his mind, he began to head toward it.

Young couple! Erwin felt a headache coming on and lightly rubbed the bridge of his nose with his well-formed fingers.

Come to think of it, things like "home" and "marriage" had always been his Achilles' heel.

His parents had divorced due to his father's infidelity, and his mother, Kathleen, had left the house, leaving a young Erwin behind. While that made his mother seem pitiful, it seemed the relationship between the two—who had been forced to marry for political balance—had been cold from the start.

Afterward, his mother, hailed as the most beautiful woman in the Empire, remarried and lived happily. Meanwhile, his father, the cause of the divorce, took his mistress of the time as a second wife and was blessed with fraternal twins. In other words, they were Erwin’s half-siblings.

Strangely, his parents, who should have been at each other's throats, were now on friendly terms, as if they had forgotten the past entirely. These days, they even exchanged seasonal gifts.

In such a domestic environment, Erwin had been raised as if he were a piece of fragile glassware.

His relationship with his father was strained, and his relationship with his stepmother went without saying. Perhaps because both felt a sense of guilt, their interactions were awkward, and his much younger siblings tended to keep their distance from their older brother.

To be honest, now that he was an adult, he could almost understand his father's feelings. Infidelity was not commendable, but since remarrying, his father had been devoted to his wife without a single stray rumor. His stepmother likely held the reins firmly.

The same went for his mother, who had remarried a childhood friend. Though they had no children, she was the picture of happiness, and they were reportedly still as passionate as newlyweds.

However, the sight of his parents had a profound impact on Erwin's view of marriage.

Of course, his parents weren't the only cause; his stunning looks and family lineage played a part as well.

Being unnaturally popular, Erwin was constantly the center of attention, praised and pursued by women. Once, when rumors of a match with a certain young lady spread—which turned out to be a baseless lie started by the lady herself—someone had even gone so far as to put a suspicious drug in his drink.

Fortunately, with a friend's help, he escaped unscathed. But upon investigation, he learned that the lady in question had plotted to create a fait accompli and had intended to lure him into a so-called "sex room" disguised as a lounge. The thought left him chilled to the bone.

The women who swarmed him at evening parties were much the same; he was simply exhausted by the coquetry displayed toward him without his consent.

As a nobleman, he was prepared to accept an arranged marriage, but he did not wish to follow in his parents' footsteps.

He hoped for someone he could at least find agreeable, but everyone around him was merely a high-society lady breathing down his neck with hunger. Lately, he felt nothing but disgust; the mere scent of heavy perfume gave him hives on his stomach and arms. His prospects looked incredibly bleak.

The image of a lady claiming to be a distant relative of Kathleen suddenly crossed his mind, and Erwin instinctively grimaced. He remembered her audacity and her suffocating perfume.

That saccharine voice and a scent so strong it made him want to pinch his nose. He had made the mistake of offering a polite social invitation to visit after she was introduced as a relative of his biological mother. According to the steward's reports, she visited the Marquis's estate frequently and behaved as if she owned the place. Of course, Erwin was too busy to be home most of the time, so it was primarily his stepmother who suffered.

—If it becomes too much, I'll have to put her in her place. I'll need to speak with my stepmother about it first.

They were mother and son in name only. He felt hesitant to cast doubt on the capabilities of his stepmother, who managed the household.

More trouble. Erwin let out a great sigh, taking advantage of the fact that no one was around. He had resigned himself to the idea that he would never find a woman he liked and that, since he had a brother who carried the Abalov blood, a carefree life as a lifelong bachelor wouldn't be so bad. Then, suddenly, he had been plunged into newlywed life. And his partner was no ordinary noble daughter.

—Because of His Highness, I've ended up married to someone utterly unexpected.

He couldn't even bring himself to sigh.

The reason Erwin had married without even obtaining his parents' permission was simple: his master, the Crown Prince of the Saxon Empire, had desired it.

Imperial law mandated an engagement period of at least six months for noble marriages. It was Crown Prince Clark who had bypassed this, signing the "Special Marriage License" that allowed for an immediate wedding.

And so, this irregular marriage had come to pass, and here he was, standing before the couple's bedroom.

Erwin stifled a groan, swallowed a hundred different words of resentment, and finally knocked on the bedroom door.

There was no answer in the silent hallway. Hoping that she might be asleep, he gently opened the door.

As the oak door swung open, a band of light spilled into the corridor.

Numerous lamps were lit in the space leading from the anteroom to the bedroom. Compared to the dim hallway, it was dazzling. Erwin closed the door behind him, shutting the darkness out of the room.

In the back of the brightly lit room, in front of a painting on the wall, stood a slender, white figure.

"...Do you like that painting?"

The figure jumped, shoulders shaking, and turned around. Upon recognizing Erwin, she immediately bowed her head. Her nightgown was not as thin as he had feared; Erwin felt inwardly relieved as he observed the woman before him.

Her beautiful, thick chestnut curls were brushed out, reflecting the light of the lamps.

Her shoulders were slight and delicate, and she was likely more than a head shorter than Erwin, who stood at 186 centimeters. She was perhaps average height for a woman, or slightly above.

She was Lady Letiana Knowles of the Grand Duchy of Lindor—the woman who, from today, would be known as Letiana Abalov, his wife.

"Please, lift your head. ...There is no need to be excessively humble toward your husband."

—Husband! I can't believe I just said that.

As Erwin blushed at his own words and bit the inside of his cheek, Letiana slowly raised her head.

Instantly, Erwin regained his composure. She was wearing thick glasses, just as she had when they first met, and her long bangs obscured much of her face.

—I recall she looked like this when she signed the marriage certificate. She doesn't really seem like a noble lady... Did the head housekeeper fail to help her dress? ...No, the housekeeper was so excited about the bride's arrival; there's no way she neglected her.

The head housekeeper had practically danced with joy upon hearing they were welcoming a bride. She must have scrubbed the girl from head to toe in the name of "preparation." Erwin had actually been worried that he would be set up for a wedding night with some provocative lace lingerie. If this was the result, he had to assume her own wishes had been respected.

The woman before him was far from seductive, her hands folded neatly in front of her. Regardless of the hairstyle and glasses, her posture possessed a certain grace; he admired that she was indeed a lady from the culturally sophisticated Grand Duchy of Lindor.

—Or rather, the "Former Grand Duchy of Lindor" now.

The Grand Duchy of Lindor, having lost the war against the allied forces of the Kingdom of Ultima and the Saxon Empire, had already vanished from the map of the continent. In other words, Erwin's wife was a noblewoman of a fallen nation.

Regardless, he couldn't imagine being seduced by a woman in thick cotton flannel pajamas and glasses. Feeling somewhat more relaxed, Erwin reached out his hand.

"...?"

Letiana stared at her husband's hand with a puzzled expression. After holding the pose for a moment, an uncontrollable sigh escaped Erwin's lips.

"...Sit down. I wish to speak with you."

He thought he saw her blink, but since her glasses were as thick as bottle bottoms, he couldn't be sure. When he stared intently to read her expression, she discreetly averted her gaze.

Feeling awkward, wondering if he had been impolite, Erwin realized that Letiana had finally understood his gesture was an escort. As she softly placed her hand in his, a relieved Erwin gave a small cough and guided his wife to sit on the edge of the bed.

"Are you tired?"

He sat beside her on the edge of the bed and asked. Letiana shook her head, slightly turning her face away.

"No."

"Really? If you've been in a carriage this whole time, I imagine it was a grueling journey for a lady of your standing."

As he leaned in slightly, Letiana visibly stiffened.

Suspicious of the reaction, Erwin suddenly realized the situation they were in—a man and woman, practically strangers, in their nightwear, sitting alone on a bed in the middle of the night.

Moreover, it was their wedding night. She probably thought he was about to make a move.

Glancing at the window, he saw the reflection of a couple prepared for bed, and only then did he fully realize his position.

"That's not it!"

A sudden burst of sweat broke out across his body.

"I absolutely did not intend—I only wanted to ask if you were anxious, having been brought to a foreign land almost as if you were kidnapped."

His baritone voice cracked. Even the usually calm Erwin panicked at the thought of being misunderstood as the kind of man who would assault a woman without her consent.

"We married due to the Crown Prince's reckless orders, but I believe I should properly confirm your intentions. You and your wet nurse were the only ones left at the Knowles estate, were you not? Did you truly wish to come to Saxon yourself?"

The more words he piled on in rapid succession, the more they sounded fake, even to his own ears, as if he were trying to cover something up.

How could he clear up the misunderstanding? While he was desperately racking his brain, drenched in sweat, Letiana's slender shoulders began to tremble slightly.

"...Ugh... pff..."

She covered her mouth with her hand and looked down, turning her back to Erwin.

—No way... is she crying?

Erwin wanted to tear his hair out.

Whenever something happened, women would immediately cry and use it as a weapon. That was how he knew women. He had been wooed with tears and begged for love countless times. And whenever he refused, he was somehow turned into the villain.

This is the worst. Give me a break. Just as he was about to look up at the heavens in despair, unbelievably, Letiana burst out laughing.

After laughing for a while in front of the stunned Erwin, Letiana slid an index finger under her glasses to wipe away tears.

"...I apologize most sincerely. It is quite alright; I have no such misunderstanding. There is no way a man as beautiful as Your Excellency would suddenly attack me."

She spoke while still caught in fits of laughter, sounding almost like hiccups.

"I am truly sorry. I have no experience with men, so I was a bit nervous."

"...It seems your nerves have settled."

"Yes, indeed."

With a glance at the sullen Erwin, Letiana continued to smile.

"The answer to your questions is no, no, no, and yes, Your Excellency. I am not tired, and the journey was a delight, as everything I saw and heard was novel. It was not the 'grueling journey' you suggested."

The corners of her lips curled up playfully. Setting aside the upper half of her face, the shape of her small chin—which looked as if it could fit in the palm of Erwin's hand—was beautiful, and her skin seemed to glow white.

"Furthermore, I do not feel I was kidnapped. I came to the Saxon Empire of my own free will."

Pearl-like teeth peeked through her plump lips. Watching her, Erwin felt her gaze and straightened his back.

"But... your family..."

Realizing the cause of his hesitation, Letiana slowly looked down.

"As you know, I was hiding in the estate with my wet nurse. This was because my brother helped my mother, who was weakened by shock, to flee into exile after my father... Earl Knowles, passed away."

Her fluffy chestnut curls slid off the shoulder of her plain nightgown. Looking down, Letiana interlaced her fingers on her lap.

"Why didn't the three of you flee together?"

"My father worried for the people until the very end. Even though most of the nobility fled early on, and we repeatedly urged him to go into exile, he said he could not flee alone..."

Unlike nobles who held cash or convertible bonds, tenant farmers had no assets; if they fled, they would have no means of survival.

"My father lost his life trying to protect the people from the mercenaries of the Allied Forces."