Arc-3 Ch-05

The airship begins its descent, preparing to land. In stark contrast to the hurried footsteps of the crew bustling outside, the VIP cabin remains cloaked in silence. At last, it seems even my brother-in-law has resigned himself to his fate.

Though his face is still pale, he appears to have abandoned any thoughts of escape. We briefly debate whether to apply some makeup to mask his pallor or offer him a small amount of alcohol to settle his nerves, but ultimately decide against it.

Better not to provoke him and risk further trouble.

“Big bro, at this point, just steel yourself.”

“Alright, alright. I too am a noble, you know. I’ll put in the bare minimum effort.”

Even after we untie the ropes binding him, he stays calm. It seems he might not make a complete fool of himself at the marriage meeting after all.

“Let me make one thing clear: I’m just meeting her! There’s no guarantee it’ll work out! I don’t care what the Earl’s or Duke’s houses are scheming—if things fall apart, that’s on them, not me!”

“We get it, we get it. No one’s going to force you that far. But we do have our own obligations to consider.”

“Damn it… how did it come to this…?”

Still visibly pale, my brother-in-law is flanked by Leon and Father on either side, preventing any last-minute escape attempts. The three of them walking together look more like guards escorting a criminal than a marriage delegation. The airport in Roseblade territory carries a different atmosphere compared to the one in Bartfort lands.

Where Bartfort’s airport is built for heavy-duty, large airships transporting vast supplies for pioneering efforts, Roseblade’s caters to smaller airships, the kind typically used by adventurers. Yet, despite that, the number of docked airships is conspicuously low.

Given that the lord’s daughter is about to be wed, one would expect a well-maintained and active port. Instead, the emptiness feels less like orderly preparation and more like quiet desolation. As I ponder this vaguely, I descend the gangway and spot a red carpet stretched out ahead.

Standing midway along it is a lone woman in a formal gown. Her familiar presence stirs an irritation I struggle to suppress.

“Welcome, honored guests of the Bartfort family. Thank you for making the journey. I am Deidere Fou Roseblade, daughter of the Roseblade house. On behalf of my father, Earl Roseblade, I shall escort you to our estate.”

Her graceful bow is the textbook example of noble etiquette—precise, practiced, and elegant. Yet, what lies behind that polished façade is anyone’s guess. Deidere’s pride often borders on arrogance, a demeanor that has long alienated those around her.

The Deidere Fou Roseblade I know is exactly that kind of woman. Even as the Bartfort family members offer their greetings one by one, her eyes sweep over us with the haughty gaze of an aristocrat appraising unfamiliar stock.

But her attention isn’t fixed on my brother-in-law or father-in-law—it’s locked on Leon. Here we go again. I barely restrain the urge to click my tongue. It’s infuriating, but the Roseblade family currently holds the upper hand in status. We must tread carefully.

“Leon Fou Bartfort, Viscount. I’m here today as my brother’s escort.”

“Angelica Fou Bartfort. It’s a pleasure to see you in good health, Deidere-sama.”

Deidere’s shoulders tremble slightly with amusement.

It seems she finds it entertaining that I, once a duke’s daughter superior to her in status, now stand before her as the wife of a mere viscount—our positions reversed.

Among old acquaintances, I often face gazes laced with pity or quiet disdain.

At first, it enraged me.

But over time, the sting faded.

Now, I am the Viscountess Bartfort, wife of Leon Fou Bartfort—and that truth alone brings me pride.

“Then, the members of the Bartfort baronial household… shall proceed to that carriage,” Deidere announces.

My brother-in-law, father-in-law, mother-in-law, and Colin obediently board the carriage indicated.

Her deliberate emphasis on the word baronial is a subtle jab—petty, but calculated.

Some nobles treat guests differently depending on their titles, altering their tone or even the quality of the carriage they provide.

While the carriages seem uniform in style, separating the baronial family from us, the viscountal line, is a transparent act of snobbery.

“Deidere-senpai, may I ask a question?”

“There’s no need for such formality outside the academy, Angelica.”

“Then, Deidere—what exactly are you scheming?”

I might be being blunt, but she gave me permission to drop the honorifics. Besides, I must protect the Bartfort family, still unfamiliar with the nuances of political maneuvering.

“Scheming? Whatever do you mean?”

“Don’t feign ignorance. Why separate the baronial and viscount households? What game are you playing?”

“My, my. Still as fiery as ever. Is that not the very temperament that earned you the royal family’s ire?”

Venomous, as always. Keeping my irritation in check around her is a constant battle.

“You two know each other?” Leon asks, glancing between us.

“We were acquainted in the capital. She was two years my senior at the academy.”

“I see.”

Whether Leon is being genuinely curious or simply trying to ease the tension, I can’t tell. Either way, his interjection draws my attention just enough to calm me down.

“Allow me to introduce myself again. Leon Fou Bartfort, Viscount.”

“Your exploits precede you—both the praise and the infamy,” Deidere says with a smile hidden behind her fan.

“Thanks for that,” Leon replies evenly.

Deidere continues to scrutinize him from behind her fan, her expression composed yet calculating.

“You appear to be quite accomplished. Inviting the Saintess to your domain for publicity—what a clever move. It seems Lord Bartfort possesses not only military prowess but also commercial savvy. I would love to learn from you someday.”

“I haven’t done anything special. It’s all thanks to Angie’s hard work.”

“How modest. But I’m certain it’s your diligence that deserves credit.”

Deidere drowns Leon in exaggerated praise.

No doubt she’s trying to take his measure.

Among the kingdom’s nobility, it’s become increasingly common for upstart lords to neglect estate affairs entirely, relying on their wives or in-laws while they pursue lives of indulgence.

Recently, some women have taken Leon for one of those libertine nobles—and made advances accordingly.

Few, however, are as forward about it as Deidere is today.

“Could this be Earl Roseblade’s doing?”

It wouldn’t be unusual. Among the nobility, it’s common practice for prominent houses to offer sisters or daughters as concubines or mistresses in political maneuvering.

“Attempting to seduce a married man in front of his wife? How very unbecoming. Has the Roseblade house truly fallen so low as to scavenge for scraps?”

“Still clinging to the habit of guarding your man like a dog with a bone? Such jealousy—doesn’t it only tarnish your husband’s reputation?”

“Are you trying to provoke me, Deidere?”

“Oh my, how frightening. Be careful—those frown lines are starting to ruin your pretty face.”

If she won’t yield, then neither will I.

The onlookers begin to retreat, sensing the sharp tension radiating between us.

“Deidere-san, please don’t tease Angie too much,” Leon interjects with a warm, cheerful smile. “She’s not known for holding back when she’s upset.”

Such verbal sparring is a customary dance in high society—thinly veiled hostility cloaked in civility and charm, a noble pastime. Praise and poison flow in equal measure, often exchanged with painted smiles and elegant gestures, while invisible daggers strike beneath the table.

“Oh, there’s no conflict here—just polite conversation,” Deidere says smoothly.

“My apologies,” Leon replies with mock innocence. “I’m just a country bumpkin, still new to these refined customs. It’s all a bit overwhelming.”

“Understandable,” she smirks. “Newly ennobled families often lack refinement. A shame the academy—meant to teach such things—was suspended.”

Her words land like a blade sheathed in silk. The implication is clear: “An uncultured upstart should return to school where he belongs.”

It’s a pointed jab at Leon, who, due to his family's poverty, was denied a proper noble’s education and never attended the academy.

I step forward, irritation flaring, but Leon gently halts me.

“Well,” he says with a calm smile, “I’m just a lowborn upstart who clawed his way up through farming and combat. I’d never dream of disturbing our ancestors’ rest the way some ‘noble’ families do.”

“Disturbing the ancestors’ rest” is a disparaging phrase—an allusion to dungeon delving or relic hunting.

In the Holfort Kingdom, founded by an adventurer, such pursuits are prestigious. But in other nations, adventurers are derided as looters and grave robbers.

Leon’s words are a clever jab at the Roseblade house, whose noble status was earned through generations of adventuring.

“…How crude. Perhaps your wife should teach you some manners.”

“She might. I’m just the dull younger brother who can’t even remember my brother’s fiancée’s name. Was it… Rosehip?”

“It’s Roseblade… house.”

“Ah, right. Forgive me. As a newcomer, I tend to remember only those who’ve recently distinguished themselves. Please forgive the oversight.”

“…Tch.”

I can’t help but chuckle. During our court etiquette lessons, I learned that Leon has a surprisingly sharp tongue.

Perhaps enduring years of verbal battles with his domineering elder sister and cheeky younger sister trained him well—he’s more than capable of holding his own among seasoned nobles.

In warfare, those who can wound with words are just as valuable as those who wield swords. Leon’s wit is proving to be a formidable weapon.

Deidere, momentarily bested, trembles with rage and raises her voice.

We aren’t here to provoke conflict, but neither will we stand idly by when insulted.

What will the Roseblade house do next?

After a tense pause, Deidere narrows her eyes at me.

“Angelica.”

“What?”

“You have quite the interesting husband.”

“I assure you, he never fails to keep life interesting.”

“I find myself... rather intrigued. Would it be acceptable if I tried to win him over?”

“Not a chance. Leon is mine alone.”

Though I hesitate to admit it, I do possess the magnanimity to tolerate a mistress—if Leon were truly interested in one.

But such a woman must meet a single, non-negotiable requirement: she must genuinely love Leon from the bottom of her heart.

Deidere is undoubtedly beautiful and intelligent. But her motives are steeped in politics, not affection.

And I am not the kind of wife who would permit such a woman to stand beside my husband.

“What a shame. I’ve grown quite fond of Lord Bartfort.”

“Is that your own will—or Earl Roseblade’s?”

“Let’s discuss that, shall we?”

At her signal, another carriage pulls forward. It seems we won’t even reach the estate without a scuffle.

---

※ ※ ※ ※ ※

“So, the Roseblade house intends to align with the Redgrave house.”

“But they didn’t foresee my brother and Dorothea meeting first.”

Hearing the explanation, I finally begin to understand the larger picture.

At the same time, I can’t help but feel anxious—my brother-in-law’s engagement with Dorothea is unlikely to proceed smoothly.

“It’s not exactly a crisis, but the Roseblade house isn’t in an ideal position. The war drained much of our strength. For now, we must prioritize rebuilding our estates.”

“You don’t look like you’re struggling.”

Unlike the rural Bartfort lands, the Roseblade domain resembles a fortified city—stone-paved roads, solid architecture, and military order.

“I assumed, since your house breeds adventurers, it’d be a rough, lawless region.”

“You’re a kingdom noble and yet you disdain adventurers?”

“Completely. I was raised not much different from a commoner, so I’ve never dreamed of fame or fortune. Our family gained status through military merit, and I earned my title on the battlefield. That’s the Bartfort way.”

“…I simply don’t understand you. Angelica, why did you marry this man?”

I falter at the question.

In the Holfort Kingdom, most men idolize adventurers. Even the women revere their ancestors’ daring feats.

Leon is an outlier—he chose the plow over the blade, and turned to soldiering only when he had no choice.

Among nobles, his mindset is not just unconventional—it borders on heretical.

The irony is, Leon possesses both the brains and the brawn to have become a famed adventurer.

And yet, it’s because he defied expectations that I fell for him.

Had he been another man chasing glory, I might have used him—but I doubt I would’ve ever truly loved him.

Our marriage feels nothing short of divine providence.

“It’s hard to explain. There was something about him—something beyond his pedigree or accomplishments—that captured me. That’s all.”

“You look quite content. And yet, the rumors say you’ve become the plaything of a coarse frontier noble.”

“Rumors are just that—rumors. Some people simply can’t stand the idea of me being happy after my engagement to His Highness was annulled.”

Perhaps it’s time I begin addressing those rumors seriously. Not only do they damage my own standing, but they tarnish Leon’s name as well—and that reflects poorly on the Bartfort house.

---

“So it’s true—the Roseblade house seeks an alliance with the Redgraves?”

“That has always been our intention. Regardless of the outcome of my elder sister’s engagement, our goal is alignment with the ducal house.”

“Won’t that raise concerns of disloyalty to the royal family?”

“If the Crown views this as a mere engagement between a baronial and an earldom house, then they’re incompetent. If they’re aware the ducal house is manipulating events and choose to ignore it, then it shows just how weakened the royal family has become. Either way, the Roseblade house has no intention of serving impotent rulers.”

While the royal family rarely intervenes in the marriages of lower nobles, high-ranking noble unions are strictly monitored to prevent alliances that could breed rebellion.

Is the Holfort royal family now too feeble to enforce that balance?

Or are they willingly turning a blind eye in favor of national recovery?

That’s something we’ll need to investigate.

“As for our family,” Deidere continues, “the bride doesn’t have to be my sister. Lord Bartfort, would you object to taking me as a concubine?”

“Deidere-san, are you sure about that?”

“Love is a rarity in noble marriages. I’m not asking to be your legal wife, nor to have my children named heirs. I’m simply intrigued by you.”

She speaks with a smile, stealing occasional glances at me—provocation, pure and simple.

And while I see through it, I can’t always maintain composure—especially not now. Pregnancy has made it harder to keep my emotions in check.

“I’ll pass. Angie is the only wife I need.”

“But isn’t a man’s greatness measured by the number of wives he has?”

“For someone like me, multiple wives would be more trouble than it’s worth. I’d rather love one woman properly than fail to love several equally. That’s more my speed.”

Sitting beside me, Leon pulls me close and wraps an arm gently around my shoulders.

When I glance up, his usual bold smirk has softened into something warmer—a gentle smile I can’t meet without blushing.

“How romantic. Very well,” Deidere concedes, “I’ll withdraw—for now.”

But as she herself implied, her interest hasn’t ended.

It’ll last only so long as the current situation holds—and in a kingdom as unstable as Holfort, peace never lasts forever.

Upon arriving at the mansion, we were courteously guided through its meticulously maintained corridors.

The Roseblade residence is so grand it could easily be mistaken for a castle. During the two wars with the Fanoss Principality, it served as a formidable stronghold—never falling, enduring until the bitter end.

The family’s deep respect for their adventurer ancestry and emphasis on martial strength is evident in the very layout and fortification of their territory.

In stark contrast, the Bartfort household resides in a mansion scarcely different from that of a prosperous merchant or well-off farmer. It lacks modern armor, defensive walls, or any semblance of military preparedness. The disparity in might between our two houses is painfully clear.

Even if Leon were granted an earldom, such a gap couldn’t be bridged.

It wouldn’t be surprising if a single misstep from my brother-in-law toward Dorothea, the earl’s daughter, led to a one-sided slaughter.

In the guest room where we were escorted, the four who arrived ahead of us were already waiting.

My brother-in-law’s face had grown even paler, while my father-in-law appeared visibly tense.

Colin, however, was enthusiastically inspecting the room’s furnishings, and my mother-in-law was casually nibbling at the provided tea snacks.

“How’s Brother doing?”

“He’s nervous. Father is too.”

“Well, considering he’s about to meet a noble lady from a house like this, it’s no wonder they’re both on edge.”

“I like this place better than the duke’s mansion in the capital. It’s exciting!”

“The duke’s residence was designed to intimidate. But if you admire adventurers or heroes, the grandeur of the Roseblade mansion certainly holds more appeal—and I agree.”

“I’m content with our own home.”

Leon, contentedly munching on tea snacks beside my mother-in-law and showing no sign of envy toward this lavish setting, remains an anomaly among the kingdom’s nobles.

Titles, grand estates, and cutting-edge armor hold little allure for him.

He would likely be perfectly content with just enough to live quietly—farming the land, surrounded by loved ones.

The Bartforts, and Leon in particular, were never meant to be entangled in politics and power struggles.

It’s because of me—and the Redgrave ducal house behind me—that the Bartforts have been drawn into all of this.

Had Leon not married me, he would’ve been free of these endless complications.

He might have lived out his days peacefully in that remote corner of the realm, far from the reach of influence and interference.

Each time Leon accomplishes something remarkable, more people gather around him. And every time that happens, I can’t help but feel that my place in his life is slowly shrinking.

What do you say, Bartfort-dono? Would you object to taking me as a concubine?

What if Leon had accepted Deirdre’s proposal?

The very thought sends a chill down my spine.

I force myself to refocus and glance at the time.

Two hours remain until the meeting. In this unfamiliar territory, we should depart soon to reach our destination on time.

“Leon, it’s about time.”

“Right. I’ll head out now.”

I know we should remain here as a couple.

But what awaits us isn’t just a marriage alliance between a baronial and an earldom house—it’s something far more complex.

Though I feel guilty about leaving the Bartforts behind, if this matter goes poorly, the Bartfort territory could collapse before the marriage meeting even concludes.

“You’re really going? How cold.”

“I’ve explained it countless times—this is a major client. If it goes well, the Bartfort domain could see considerable growth.”

“They traveled all the way from the capital to match our schedule. Being late could ruin everything.”

“Leave it to me.”

“I’m counting on you, Colin. Father and Mother aren’t exactly reliable.”

We exited the guest room and requested a carriage from a Roseblade servant.

The servant’s skeptical glance stung.

Leaving just before a marriage meeting undoubtedly leaves a poor impression.

But even if it earns us disdain, this must be done.

Because I’m the only one who can do it.

※ ※ ※ ※ ※

I checked the location on a map I had prepared in advance.

Our destination was a luxury inn located in a corner of the Roseblade territory.

Renowned for its adventurer roots, the Roseblade domain is bustling with establishments catering to that very crowd: melee weapon shops, firearm dealers, armor smiths, tool shops, appraisal centers, guilds, gambling dens, brothels, and inns.

Adventurers gear up here, challenge dungeons, and spend their earnings—all of which fuels the local economy.

The Roseblade family built their history through personal merit and by sustaining this cycle.

But keeping that cycle alive places immense strain on the territory—and that, more than anything, is likely the real reason behind this marriage meeting.

In times of war, fewer adventurers risk dungeon dives.

Yes, there’s less competition—but there are also fewer allies.

When it comes to unexplored or dangerous dungeons, going alone is nearly suicidal.

Even if an adventurer returns home safely, they risk being caught up in skirmishes or mistaken for scouts. The existence of adventurers hinges on national stability.

Now that the war has ended, the continued shortage of dungeon-diving adventurers poses an existential threat to the Roseblade territory.

“They might have proposed this marriage even without the ducal house’s involvement,” I mutter.

“What do you mean?” Leon asks as we walk toward the inn after being dropped off nearby.

Though he’s never held much admiration for adventurers, Leon seems captivated by the town’s vibrant streets. He stops frequently, his gaze drawn to various wares like a child at a festival.

His innocent curiosity brings a smile to my lips.

Since the birth of Lionel and Ariel, moments like this—just the two of us—have become increasingly rare.

I have no regrets about becoming a mother. Yet, I realize now I didn’t shed the identity of a woman as easily as I thought I would.

Whenever Leon showers affection on the children, a strange loneliness washes over me. I never knew I was capable of feeling this way.

“What do you think of the town?” I ask.

“It’s more developed than I expected. I thought it’d be crawling with rough-and-tumble adventurer types.”

“You’re not wrong. Plenty here toe the line between adventurer and criminal. The Roseblades didn’t build all this success through strength alone.”

“Then how did they manage it?”

“They enacted local ordinances, expanded their security force, and cracked down on illicit activities like money laundering. In exchange for taxes, they granted merchants a measure of autonomy.”

“Isn’t that just common sense?”

“It’s different in Bartfort territory, where the population is still sparse and crime nearly nonexistent. As a region grows, so do disputes. If you clamp down too hard, resentment builds. A wise lord knows how to walk the line between regulation and freedom.”

“So how do I rank?” he asks.

“Barely passing, I’d say. You still have too many soft spots.”

“Tch.”

He clicks his tongue, clearly offended.

No matter. I’ll soothe that bruised ego later—privately.

“That’s just for now. No one knows what Bartfort territory will look like in ten or twenty years.”

“I’m doing everything I can to make sure it prospers,” he says firmly.

“The Roseblade territory could decline, and ours might rise. I wouldn’t rule out a future where we’re the ones lending them aid.”

“…Is that why they proposed this marriage?”

“Look closely. There are more shops than customers. If competition drives prices too high—or too low—it could cause economic collapse. Expanding their territory might grow the tax base, but if it backfires, the consequences could be fatal.”

“It doesn’t seem that desperate.”

“That’s because they’ve built up a long-standing legacy. But even the mightiest noble house can fall overnight if it stumbles.”

“Even after war ends, the problems don’t,” Leon sighs.

The greatest source of unrest in the Holfort Kingdom right now is the Redgrave house.

Whether we want it or not, the Bartforts are being dragged into that whirlwind.

And when it comes to solving the kingdom’s troubles, I’m utterly powerless.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?” he asks.

“I’m always pulling you into these messes, Leon. This marriage meeting has even entangled your brother. There’s no telling when the ducal house might drag in the rest of the Bartfort family—or even our children.”

“I know better than anyone how hard you work behind the scenes, Angie.”

“I keep thinking I can handle everything on my own, only to fail. I’m terrified that one day, it’ll all come crashing down.”

“I accepted that risk the day I married a duke’s daughter.”

“That may be fine for you, but what about the others?”

“My family knew what they were getting into when I rose in rank. We all just need to be ready for what comes.”

Each time I apologize, Leon responds with such unwavering kindness.

Yet the more I rely on it, the more I feel like a wretched woman clinging to his mercy.

“That’s why I’m here with you today. That’s why I insisted on coming,” he says.

“Honestly, I didn’t want you involved.”

“I appreciate the concern, but it’s a little insulting to be that protected by my wife.”

“Half of it is not wanting to drag you into a mess. The other half is worrying about your fidelity.”

“What brought that on?”

“You seemed awfully cozy with Deidere earlier.”

“That was just polite small talk!”

“We’ll see what you say after meeting the person we’re about to see.”

“What kind of lunatic tries to seduce a married woman? I’m not that much of a fool.”

Talking with Leon feels like a slow cleansing of the emotional residue built up inside me.

To passersby, our playful exchange might look like nothing more than a happy couple enjoying their day.

But just as we spot the signboard of our destination, my steps falter.

Why is he here?

That silhouette—I’d recognize it anywhere.

I thought I’d never see him again.

Something inside me shatters.

Fear. Anger. Sorrow. Revulsion. Jealousy. Resentment.

A flood of emotions surges through me, threatening to crush my chest.

The clock inside me rewinds, dragging me back to a moment I never wanted to relive.

The present me overlaps with the me of the past.

Leon’s voice grows faint.

The fleeting happiness vanishes like a dream at dawn.

'Someone, please… love me.'

┳⁠━━━━⁠━⁠⁠━⁠━⁠━━━⁠┳

Authors Note

┻━⁠━━━━⁠━━⁠━━━⁠┻

 Deidere is central to the conversation. In the book version, she seems proactive about potentially becoming Leon’s concubine. 

It’s challenging to adapt Leon’s crude taunts from the original into the indirect, aristocratic sarcasm of the nobles. 

Look forward to Leon’s provocative battlefield antics, which are planned for later. 

Addendum:

Per the client’s request, illustrations were commissioned from banshii-sama, chiri-sama, aro-sama, and amepa-sama. Thank you very much.  

- banshii-sama: Pixiv  

- chiri-sama: Pixiv  

- aro-sama: Pixiv  

- amepa-sama:   

Additionally, per the client’s request, an illustration was commissioned from MOB-sama. Thank you very much.  

- MOB-sama: https://skeb.jp/@MOB_illust/works/4  

I’d greatly appreciate any feedback or impressions to motivate future work.