Arc-3 Ch-04

I was convinced I would never fall in love.

No matter how elegantly they dress it up, men only ever see my appearance or my family name.

Even when I test them with unreasonable demands, they either force a strained smile to appease me or brandish their lineage like a weapon, as though a noble title alone entitles them to claim a woman.

Who in their right mind could fall for a whimpering mutt eager to please its master, or a pompous gorilla who equates strength with dominance?

All I’ve ever wanted is someone who sees me as an equal.

I’m not some delicate doll to be adorned in fine silks and displayed behind glass.

My appearance, personality, thoughts, emotions, body, soul, preferences—

I yearn for someone who understands all of it.

Even I can’t quite explain why I feel this way.

As a daughter of a noble house, I understand perfectly well the expectations placed upon me: a carefully arranged marriage, followed by the duty of producing heirs.

And yet, I’ve rejected every proposal that’s ever come my way.

When people ask if there’s someone I’m fond of, all I can say is that not a single man has ever stirred my heart.

It’s not that I’m devoid of feeling.

Joy, anger, sorrow, delight, fear, surprise—

All of these emotions live within me, and I understand them.

But the kind of love said to bloom between man and woman? That remains foreign to me.

The faces of those who try to woo me blur together, their voices no more than static in my ears.

I can’t understand the thrill my peers feel when they gossip about romance or swoon over some nobleman’s gaze.

That’s the kind of woman I am—Dorothea Fou Roseblade.

I truly believed I would live out my life with a quiet heart, untouched by longing or passion.

And yet… even I possess the faintest spark of a maiden’s heart that longs for love.

So I cast the dice, with a flicker of hope, telling myself:

Perhaps, one day, on some unexpected square… I’ll stumble upon a destined encounter.

※ ※ ※ ※ ※

In the drawing room, the ticking of the clock was the only sound.

No one spoke. All eyes were fixed on the door, awaiting the guest.

Seated in quiet anticipation were Count Roseblade, his family, and a few trusted retainers.

The Count sat composed in his chair. His wife and daughters occupied a sofa large enough to seat them without the need to sit so closely—yet there they were, huddled together.

And the reason sat at the very center: the young lady of the house.

A delicate flush colored her cheeks, one hand pressed to her chest as if steadying her breath. To the untrained eye, she might appear to be a frail noblewoman suffering from ill health.

In truth, she was perfectly fine.

She was merely afflicted with that incurable condition that had brought ruin to emperors, heroes, beauties, and sages throughout history—

Love.

The way she brushed her hand across her forehead or cheek, gasping softly—it was nearly sensual.

“...Maybe I really should change again.”

“Compose yourself, Dorothea. How many times has it been now?”

“This would be the fourth.”

The Count and Countess exchanged exhausted glances. Their daughter had changed her outfit four times since morning.

Rising before dawn, Dorothea had personally overseen the estate’s welcome preparations, checked the gardens twice, bathed, and put on the dress chosen for this special day.

Yet less than an hour later, she descended into a frenzy—pacing the garden like a ghost, obsessing over every detail of her appearance, changing clothes, redoing her hair and makeup again and again.

“This one—yes, this one is sure to please Lord Nicks!”

“No, wait. He spent years on the frontier, didn’t he? He might dislike gaudy women.”

“Maybe if I present myself with a mature charm, he’ll see me as a reliable partner.”

“No, no, that just makes me look like an aging woman desperate for attention. I should highlight my youth—it might leave a stronger impression!”

Each time, she tore through her wardrobe like a storm, dragging her maids into a whirlwind of preparations.

By now, they were nearing their breaking point—and the meeting hadn’t even begun.

“Sister, I understand you’re nervous, but please, calm down. Flighty women are always looked down upon. As daughters of House Roseblade, we must carry ourselves with poise and grace.”

“Deirdre, didn’t you attend the academy with Lord Nicks? Surely you know what he likes!”

“I’ve never even spoken to him, so I really don’t...”

“Aah, this is hopeless! I don’t know anything anymore!”

They say no force on earth can stop a woman in love—and no amount of advice will temper her emotions. That truth, it seemed, applied frighteningly well to Dorothea.

She was like a wild horse on the verge of throwing its rider, caught in a maelstrom of hope and anxiety.

“I can’t take it anymore! Just thinking about Lord Nicks is driving me mad! My body’s burning up, my chest hurts, and I’m getting dizzy!”

Should they sedate her?

The Count found himself contemplating dangerous thoughts just to restore some order.

Dorothea had already insulted Nicks Fou Barfort several times in the past.

If she embarrassed herself today, it might be safest to confine her to her room to avoid scandal.

But if he did that, she might very well turn her wrath on the entire Roseblade family.

Looking closer, she was clenching her fists and trembling as if in the throes of a fever.

Could someone really fall this hard for a man they’d only spoken to once?

He’d always known Dorothea was eccentric—but to think love could unearth this side of her...

Suppressing yet another sigh—he’d lost count long ago—he silently cursed his past self for encouraging this match in the first place.

Truly, how had it come to this?

※ ※ ※ ※ ※

“It’s time you seriously considered getting engaged.”

It started a few months after the war ended. My parents began urging me to marry.

By the time I turned twenty, the number of proposals had grown.

I understand their concern. As a daughter of the Roseblade family, I’m nearing the end of what society calls my “prime,” and I still haven’t accepted a single suitor.

To them, I must seem like some strange creature—untouched by romance.

But the truth is, I’ve never been drawn to a single man who’s courted me.

I don’t think I even saw them as people.

No matter how much wealth they flaunt, how many accolades they boast, or how handsome they may be, I feel nothing.

It’s like listening to noble ladies gush about their pets. I can’t relate.

And as each proposal ends in rejection, the whispers around town grow sharper.

I can’t help but feel sorry for my parents, who must be at their wits’ end trying to understand their daughter's cold heart.

No matter what I did, it just never worked out.

I began attending social gatherings, clinging to a fragile hope—and to demonstrate, at the very least, that I was seriously considering marriage.

The tactless gossips ridiculed me, saying I was panicking over missed opportunities, but I didn’t care.

There were always men who approached me at these events, yet they were all the same—predators cloaked in fine clothing, barely concealing their lecherous intentions.

That evening’s ball was expected to follow the same dull script.

Two men approached—shameless upstarts who thought flaunting wealth and status would make any woman swoon.

The more I ignored them, the more persistent they became. I was at my limit.

And then he appeared.

His tall, well-proportioned figure was striking even beneath his clothes, and his features were handsome—not dazzling, but honest and clean.

He seemed to know at least the basic courtesies, so I assumed he must be from a modest noble house.

Out of politeness, I considered humoring him for the duration of the ball.

But to my surprise, he brushed past me as though I didn’t exist.

What...?

Unbelievable.

A surge of indignation overwhelmed me—not only had he ignored me, he hadn’t even looked at me.

When I called out to him, his tone turned sharp, every word more biting than the last.

I was confused by the unfamiliar sensation overtaking me—my heart pounded louder and faster, and an uncontrollable heat surged through my entire body.

 “Before you go around criticizing others, fix that twisted personality of yours, you wretched woman!”

“If you’re going to treat me like a dog, then you’re no better than a bitch!”

 “Don’t you dare bring up your parents’ titles, you idiot!”

“All you’ve got going for you are your looks and your family’s name! Go cry to your daddy!”

Before I knew it, I was running.

I jumped into a carriage and ordered the driver to take me straight to the Roseblade estate.

Tears of humiliation and fury brimmed in my eyes. My head throbbed as I desperately tried to erase the memory of what had just occurred—but the more I tried, the more vivid it became.

I didn’t understand this feeling. I had never experienced anything like it before.

No one had ever struck me, and to be so blatantly insulted? Unheard of.

People’s harsh words had always seemed like distant barking to me—but his words… they stuck. They echoed.

Forgetting them would’ve been easier, but the shock was the most intense I’d ever known. I couldn’t forget, even if I tried.

When the carriage arrived at the estate, I fled inside like something was chasing me.

Ignoring the startled servants waiting for my return, I locked my door and threw myself onto the bed, still wearing my gown.

I grabbed the nearest pillow and pounded it over and over.

Unforgivable! Absolutely unforgivable!

To think he could speak to me like that—and walk away, unscathed?

I’ll make sure he never forgets me. I’ll leave a scar—on his body, on his heart, one that will never fade!

I raged until I collapsed from exhaustion, eventually passing out in the chaos of my room.

Days passed, and while the searing anger faded, a restless unease remained.

I couldn’t stop thinking about him—the man who’d spoken to me with such venomous disdain.

I knew it was strange, bordering on madness, to constantly think of the man who humiliated me. And yet, day and night, he haunted my mind.

Whenever I closed my eyes and replayed that moment, anger surged—then dissipated, replaced by something else.

A heat still lingered in my chest. My heart raced.

My appetite dwindled. My sleep grew shallow. I sighed without end.

My family grew worried, but I had no answers for them.

Life itself became wearisome, and my days drifted by in a haze.

When I consulted the family physician, he offered no explanation for my condition. Worthless man—I should dismiss him.

But instead of fading, my thoughts of him only intensified.

Had he cursed me in secret?

Amid this turmoil, my father approached me with yet another marriage proposal.

He showed me a photograph of the prospective groom while my mother listed his credentials, but none of it registered.

No matter how much they praised him, he appeared dull and lifeless to me.

"What do you think? He’s quite eager and would not bring shame to the Roseblade name.”

 “Haa…”

 “Shall we proceed with the engagement, then?”

In that moment, something within me snapped awake.

An engagement? Me?

All the motions I’d been going through suddenly felt grotesque, revolting. My entire body trembled.

 “No! Absolutely not!”

“Dorothea, what’s gotten into you? Calm down!”

“I won’t get engaged! Don’t ever speak of this again!”

"What’s the matter with you? You’ve always been composed about such things!”

“Big sister, please don’t cause a scene. You’re worrying everyone!”

“I’ve fallen in love!!”

The words burst from my lips, as though they belonged to someone else.

As I sat there, stunned by my own outburst, I realized the truth.

So this is love.

At last, in the middle of my twenties, I had experienced my first love.

With that realization came the torment of longing.

“Who is he?” they asked—but I had no answer.

I didn’t know his name, his house, where he lived—nothing.

All I remembered were faint clues: his demeanor suggested proper noble upbringing, and his attire implied he wasn't especially wealthy.

How foolish I had been to flee that night without even asking his name!

Desperate, I pleaded with my father to look into the guest list from that ball, hoping someone might recognize him—but to no avail.

Oh, my beloved…

Who are you? Where are you?

Please, grant me just one more chance to see you again.

With each passing day, the yearning devours me.

When I recall your words—so cruel, so electric—they jolt through me like lightning, leaving me trembling.

No… I mustn't behave improperly.

Surely you detest brazen women.

I would give you everything—my body, my heart, even my soul—but where are you?

To think that longing for you could be this painful…

What a cruel, sinful man you are.

Then, nearly two weeks later, my father summoned me and Deidere.

With an uncharacteristically grave expression, he laid a thick booklet on his desk.

“We have a serious matter to discuss. A marriage proposal has arrived—from the Redgrave family.”

“Father, I’ve already made it clear. I have no intention of accepting any proposal…”

 “I understand. But we can’t ignore this. The ducal family’s influence now rivals the royal household. If we don’t respond, the Roseblade name may soon fade into irrelevance.”

“We can't afford to sit idly and decay. Even if we don’t submit, we must at least appear cooperative.”

“Exactly. So long as we follow protocol, the ducal family can't pressure us too heavily. For now, simply meeting them will suffice.”

"Who is the suitor? If he’s not of equal rank, we can reject him outright.”

 “...He holds a baron’s title.”

“Then there’s no issue. The Roseblade family has no reason to accept such a match.”

“The suitor is the brother of Leon Fou Bartfort—the ducal family’s son-in-law. Refusing this will be more complicated than usual.”

“That upstart…”

“They’re clearly trying to strengthen ties with us. A refusal would be delicate.”

“Then which of us is to meet him—me or my sister?”

 “You two can decide. After all, we’ve yet to find the man Dorothea’s fallen for.”

Even in love, a noblewoman’s fate is to marry for her family’s sake.

I never understood why heroines in tragic romances wept so bitterly—until now.

To be told to lie with another man while harboring these feelings… it’s unbearable.

Yet this suitor is not easily dismissed.

And I’m not so heartless as to sacrifice my sister for the sake of my own heart.

Resigned, I reached for the booklet and opened it.

The moment I saw the photograph, my world ignited.

Those eyes. That nose. Those lips. That hair.

How could I ever forget?

It’s him!

I finally found him!

My beloved!

A cry of joy echoed through the estate—and then, overwhelmed by emotion, I fainted.

※ ※ ※ ※ ※

“Wait… is my dear sister’s first love really the man she’s to meet for this arranged marriage? Isn’t that just a bit too convenient to be coincidence?”

All eyes turned to Dorothea, now the very picture of serenity.

Her hands were clasped before her chest, eyes lifted toward the heavens like a devout follower witnessing a miracle.

 “Oh, divine providence… I give thanks for this blessed encounter. Surely this is a reward for living virtuously. Yes, every failed proposal was merely fate’s way of guiding me to Lord Nicks. My heart is so full, I may simply ascend to the heavens!”

“…Is she serious?”

Everyone in the room silently thought, “Pure and righteous?”

At the same time, they couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sympathy for the unfortunate soul who had captured the affections of this young lady.

Oblivious to—or perhaps willfully ignoring—the stares surrounding her, Dorothea continued her prayers of gratitude with serene devotion.

The watching family sank into quiet despair, realizing how slim the chances were for this marriage arrangement to succeed.

Most distressed among them was Earl Roseblade, the household’s patriarch, whose heart tightened with dread. He envisioned a bleak future where his daughter’s fleeting joy might collapse into ruin—potentially igniting a political feud that could entangle viscount, earl, and even duke houses.

If only the prospective groom’s younger brother wasn’t Leon Fou Bartfort, the situation might not have been so dire.

That young man had become a living symbol of disruption within the Kingdom of Holfort.

All the present troubles could be traced back to him.

The catalyst was the war with the Principality of Fanoss—a brutal, destabilizing conflict that shattered the kingdom’s long-standing ideals.

In Holfort, a nation that revered adventurers, their social standing was unusually high compared to other countries. Nobles who carved out achievements through adventuring, whose descendants then carried on their legacy, embodied the kingdom’s ideal.

The Roseblade family was a quintessential example of such noble lineage.

Driven by this ethos, nobles pursued dungeon challenges with unrelenting fervor—often neglecting their domains, entrusting governance to subordinates, and treating their subjects with indifference. Yet, they faced little to no criticism for their actions.

In stark contrast, nobles who ascended through military accomplishments or commercial success were viewed with contempt. Derision was particularly harsh for those who gained title through minor border skirmishes or the defeat of mere sky pirates.

But the war with Fanoss turned this hierarchy on its head.

Despite Holfort’s nobility boasting superior martial prowess, their strength did not guarantee success on the battlefield. When Fanoss launched its surprise invasion, many nobles were thrown into disarray, lacking the composure or strategy to respond. Some even abandoned their territories and fled in disgrace.

Amid the chaos, one girl changed everything: Olivia—a commoner who defeated Fanoss’s supreme commander, Hertrude Sera Fanoss, and earned the title of Saint.

While the noble class exposed its cowardice, a commoner rallied allies and salvaged the kingdom.

Complicating matters further, in a different region, a young man from a minor noble house led a unit, sustained serious injuries, and defeated another enemy commander—forcing a temporary retreat of their forces.

This youth, barely in his mid-teens, had dropped out of noble society altogether. Born to a low-ranking family and raised nearly as a commoner, he lacked even the qualifications to attend the academy and instead enlisted in the military.

Yet he accomplished what seasoned nobles and famed adventurers could not.

So what did nobility truly mean?

Boasting about lineage, indulging in luxury, neglecting their domains, and fleeing with treasure when danger approached—such people were hardly distinguishable from rogues.

His family, impoverished and living on the kingdom’s frontier, had earned their meager title over generations of military service.

It was now abundantly clear who was more deserving of loyalty to the crown.

Academy elites who failed to distinguish themselves in the war were now ridiculed—compared unfavorably to second sons of frontier nobles and even commoners.

At the same time, adventuring achievements—once the gold standard of nobility—were now seen as irrelevant in times of national crisis.

This shift posed a grave threat to the Roseblade family, whose status rested on a legacy of adventuring excellence.

To their credit, the Roseblade family had managed their domain responsibly and repelled enemy forces during the conflict.

Yet that defense paled in comparison to the slaying of enemy commanders—especially when such feats were performed by those of humble origin, barely recognized by the high nobility.

When the war with Fanoss ended in a stalemate, the upper nobility moved swiftly.

They began arranging marriages—sending daughters and sisters to those who had earned military honors, hoping to bind such rising talents to their own houses and bolster their future influence.

Foremost among those targets was Leon Fou Bartfort.

Though minimally educated, he displayed masterful command of tactics.

As a teenager, he led troops into battle, demonstrating both martial skill and bold leadership.

Despite serious injuries, he defeated an enemy general with a small force—an act that placed him beyond the reach of conventional metrics.

A rare gem amidst the rubble, his potential seemed limitless if refined by proper tutelage and noble connections.

Naturally, more astute nobles began scheming to secure him through marriage. The Roseblade family was among them.

They hoped to wed one of their unmarried daughters—Dorothea or Deidere—to Leon, thereby reinforcing their military strength and reclaiming their honor.

Efforts were made for quiet negotiations, but these proved unsuccessful.

The kingdom’s upper nobility was rife with suspicion, and by that time, Lord Leon had retired from public affairs, citing injuries from the war.

Moreover, the territory granted to him was a barren floating island. Any family seeking alliance through marriage would be saddled with the costs of its development.

At one point, a marriage proposal from a low-ranking noble—ignorant of the true cost and implications—was brought forth, but ultimately fell apart.

To marry into a newly elevated house burdened by mental and physical wounds, only to be weighed down further by the expenses of a failing domain, was a path to mutual ruin.

In this landscape of hesitation, the Redgrave Dukedom acted first.

Being second only to the royal family in authority, no one dared openly oppose their decision.

Many mocked their move as reckless, if not foolish.

But the results spoke for themselves: a convalescent facility was soon established in Bartfort territory, development progressed steadily, and Lord Leon earned renewed praise for saving countless lives during the war’s resurgence.

There’s no denying it now—the brilliance of Leon Fou Bartfort and the immense power of the Redgrave Dukedom backing him.

The kingdom’s future will revolve around the dukedom. Forming ties with the Bartfort family, their son-in-law, would naturally lead to closer relations with the Redgraves.

Fortunately, the Bartfort barony is blessed with many children, including an unmarried brother and sister.

If they could secure a marriage with one of them, they might avoid immediate crises.

The marriage proposal from the dukedom was a stroke of luck.

This marriage must succeed, even if it means prioritizing it over the daughters’ feelings.

It’s said that the Bartfort family’s eldest son, Nicks, is quite an exceptional man.

Compared to Lord Leon, he may seem somewhat inferior, but that’s an unfair standard.

According to documents obtained from the academy and other sources, he is a man of integrity and sincerity.

During wartime, he served as an aide to his younger brother, mediating between subordinates and other nobles’ armies.

He may not be as exceptional as his brother, but as a son-in-law, he’s rather likable.

For daughters with somewhat—or rather, considerably—intense personalities, a man like him might be just right.

This is a good match. It must succeed at all costs.

Having finished reviewing the documents, Earl Roseblade promptly summoned his daughters.

“Phew…”

The earl let out a long sigh, his face grim.

He never imagined things would turn out like this.

To think that the man Dorothea fell for was her arranged marriage partner.

Dorothea had suddenly screamed and fainted, and they hurriedly carried her to her room for a doctor’s examination.

Upon questioning, it turned out that the man she had been searching for was none other than Nicks Fou Bartfort.

Coincidences are terrifying, but seeing this as an opportunity, he quickly sent a messenger to the dukedom to confirm acceptance of the marriage proposal.

When he returned to the room, his wife and Deidere were pale.

Dorothea, on the other hand, was flushed, staring intently at the marriage proposal photo.

When he asked his wife what was wrong, she explained that she had learned more details about Dorothea and Nicks’ encounter.

After hearing the full story, it was the earl who collapsed in despair.

To think that Dorothea had enraged Nicks—he hadn’t anticipated this.

He had assumed she might have made a few snide remarks, as in past marriage talks, but this time she had gone too far.

There was no way the marriage with the Bartforts could proceed under these circumstances.

Could it be that the duke already knew about this?

The thought sent a chill down his spine.

Currently, the Roseblade family was not at odds with the Redgraves, but that was merely a temporary state.

In noble society, those who aren’t enemies are not necessarily allies—just not enemies for the moment.

If they might become enemies in the future, it’s standard practice to either crush them preemptively or win them over amicably.

Was this a trap set by the dukedom?

Once the thought crossed his mind, it was all he could think about.

This wasn’t an attempt to win them over—it was a threat. History is littered with examples of wars sparked by childish quarrels.

Conflicts can arise from reasons others might find absurd.

The last thing he wanted was to be the final head of the Roseblade family.

To avoid the crisis of being stripped of their title, he might need to offer not only Dorothea but also Deidere.

For a noble, the survival of the house is the top priority.

He had already subtly instructed Deidere to assess Lord Leon.

Using both daughters as tools for political marriage weighed on him.

But the die had already been cast.

He glanced at his daughters.

He wanted them to have happy marriages, but the cold calculations of a noble clashed with a father’s love.

They needed to talk.

First, he would offer a sincere apology to Nicks, then to Leon.

Titles didn’t matter. The dukedom backing the Bartforts was already surpassing the royal family’s power, so humbling himself was no issue.

He could only pray that Nicks would forgive Dorothea.

If luck was on their side, perhaps he’d agree to spend even a little time with her.

He didn’t expect marriage—just that Dorothea wouldn’t take her own life from the shock of her first heartbreak.

If it worked out, the Roseblade family would never forget the favor.

They would comply with any request from the Bartforts.

That was the final compromise he could make as both a father and a head of the house.

With grim resolve, Earl Roseblade worried for his family’s future...

※ ※ ※ ※ ※

Trying to calm her nerves, she paced restlessly in her room.

Less than three hours remained until the scheduled meeting.

It was too late to change preparations for welcoming Lord Nicks. All that was left was to do her best.

She removed a framed picture from the wall.

It wasn’t a painting but an enlarged photograph of Lord Nicks.

She lovingly stroked the frame before pressing her lips to the man’s mouth in the photo.

The act alone nearly made her faint from overwhelming joy.

With each tick of the clock, Lord Nicks was getting closer. The thought drove her nearly mad.

What would happen if she heard his voice?

If the engagement was finalized? If the marriage was set? If she was embraced by Lord Nicks?

Her body trembled as her imagination ran wild, and she felt she might lose consciousness just waiting.

A fire burned in her chest, unextinguished.

Oh, this must be love.

Until now, I wasn’t truly living.

I was merely breathing, eating, and sleeping—not living in the true sense.

How beautiful the world is.

Everything in existence seems to be blessing me.

Opening the window, she gazed at the sun shining in the sky.

Under this sky, that man is drawing closer to meet me.

That thought alone filled her with enough happiness to be kind to everyone.

“I’m waiting for you, Lord Nicks ♥ I’m captivated by you! ♥”

She let her words of love carry toward Nicks’ ears.

“No way! Absolutely not! I’m not getting involved with that woman! Let me go home already!!”

“Calm down, Nicks. No one’s saying you have to date her. It’s just a meeting for now.”

“That’s a lie! She’s targeting me because I called her a ‘shallow woman with nothing but looks and status’! She’s coming to crush me with her family’s power!”

“I don’t think that’s true. They specifically requested you, Nicks.”

“Requesting me instead of Leon is already suspicious! It’s obviously a trap! Cancel this meeting!”

“No way, Nicks. You’re all dressed up; don’t ruin it.”

“We’re about to start a feud with their house, and you’re worried about my outfit?!”

“Brother, a meeting isn’t such a bad idea. Maybe they took a liking to you and proposed the marriage.”

“You’re too naive just because your own arranged marriage worked out! If you respect your brother, help me escape, you traitor! Can’t we cancel this, Angelica?!”

“I’m sorry, dear brother-in-law. The dukedom arranged this match. Canceling it would cause some complications.”

“Damn it! Why is this happening to me?!”

At that moment, aboard an airship heading to the Roseblade territory, Nicks Fou Bartfort was desperately plotting to escape the arranged meeting, only to be restrained by his family.

“There’s no god out there helping weak, honest guys like me!! The world is all wrong!!”

His anguished cries never reached Dorothea.

┳⁠━━━━⁠━⁠⁠━⁠━⁠━━━⁠┳

Authors Note

┻━⁠━━━━⁠━━⁠━━━⁠┻

Dorothea & Count Roseblade's episode.

The amount of text ended up being more than expected, so the Leon & Angelica part will be postponed to the next installment. (Regrettably…)

By the way, in the original work, the heroines and candidates who became close to Leon had the possibility of having formal marriage interviews with him after the previous war ended (excluding those like Hertrude, who died, or Noelle and Luise, whom he hadn't met yet).

Dorothea is a much more over-the-top character in the original, but she's more reserved this time. I plan to write about her more eccentric side later.

I’d love to hear your thoughts and impressions—they would be a great encouragement for my future work!