The Red Thread of Fate (A Curse by Any Other Name)

 Chapter 37

Clothes, hair, makeup—all in place.

After one final check, I step out of the carriage and make my way briskly toward the venue. Tonight’s party is one of the rare events in the royal capital where an invitation isn’t required to attend.

Noble soirées are essentially showcases of wealth and status—an ongoing competition of ostentation. Invitations are extended not to close friends or family, but to anyone deemed useful for flaunting superiority. It's all a hollow display, masked with lavish cuisine, fine clothing, and practiced smiles.

Back during my academy days, I never had the chance to attend such gatherings. I was only permitted to enroll to obtain the bare minimum prestige expected of a baron family’s backup heir.

Even if that bastard Lutoart hadn’t been in the picture and I had been raised as the rightful heir to House Bartfort, no one would’ve invited some penniless baron’s son from the countryside to a gathering like this.

At the venue’s entrance, a few muscular guards stand watch—but they barely check anyone before waving them through.

This isn’t an exclusive affair for the nobility. Wealthy commoners—especially the sons and daughters of successful merchants—are allowed as well.

The only requirement? You must be unmarried, or a widower or widow. That’s it. Status doesn’t matter. Age doesn’t either.

Ever since the war with the duchy—no, even before that, after the previous conflict—these kinds of parties have become more and more common. Right now, the Holfort Kingdom is caught in the middle of a matchmaking boom.

So many men died in battle, or lost their noble status after defying the royal family, that the number of eligible noblemen plummeted.

The government tried to compensate by granting titles to war heroes, but naturally, those newly elevated nobles lacked the connections needed to integrate into aristocratic society.

Out of desperation, the kingdom began promoting marriage between low-ranking nobles and these freshly minted aristocrats.

Compared to my academy days, it was almost pitiful watching high-born noble girls flirt with lower nobles—or even commoners—from the regular classes.

But for noble ladies, remaining unmarried turns them into lifelong burdens to their families. If their siblings marry, they might be cast out of their homes. In the worst cases, they could be sold into brothels, forced to become mistresses, or used as disposable wives for lecherous old men.

Thankfully, my father and younger brothers aren’t the kind of scum who’d resort to that. Still, as the eldest son, it’s my duty to marry first. I sigh and glance sideways.

Originally, my younger brother too was supposed to attend tonight’s party too. I thought he’d struggle to find a bride, given his status as an upstart.

Now? He’s married to a duke’s daughter and already has two—no, three—children. We were born to the same parents, but the difference between us is overwhelming. It’s no longer jealousy I feel—it’s resignation.

I’ve always been just an accessory to my exceptional little brother. Such is the life of Nicks Fou Bartfort.

Leon was sharp, even as a child.

Things I struggled to learn, he mastered easily with just a few tips. The only things I had over him were my seniority and a slightly bigger build.

If we’d been twins, our disparity would’ve been even more apparent—and our relationship might’ve turned toxic. Despite my growing inferiority complex, I was the one allowed to attend the royal academy, solely because I was the second son of House Bartfort.

Of course, I was placed in the regular class. Our family couldn’t afford to send us both, so Leon was left behind.

I felt a fleeting sense of superiority over that—until a letter from home arrived: “Leon ran away.”

Apparently, Zola and the others tried to sell him to a noblewoman. He found out on his birthday and fled.

I hadn’t realized things had gotten so bad for him. Living my carefree academy life while he was driven to such a desperate choice made me sick with shame.

About six months later, another message arrived. Leon had been found—serving as a soldier in a distant region, far from Bartfort territory.

They discovered his whereabouts after he sent a letter saying, “Don’t worry,” along with a portion of his earnings—money he wanted to send back to support the family.

Knowing that part of my tuition was being paid for with the hard-earned wages my little brother shed blood for—it tore me apart.

Jenna, who enrolled at the academy later, didn’t seem bothered. But I couldn’t shake the feeling of being scum. By the time I reached my third year, scandal after scandal rocked the academy—and the kingdom.

Prince Julius’s broken engagement, noble students collaborating with sky pirates and criminals, and eventually, the declaration of war against the Fanoss Principality. Everything escalated until the academy was shut down indefinitely.

I accomplished nothing in those years—never found a fiancée, never made anything of myself. I simply wasted time.

When the war broke out and Zola’s faction fled, I returned home to help my father defend our territory. Meanwhile, Leon had been deployed to the frontlines—risking his life on the border.

Sometime after the war ended, a royal envoy arrived at House Bartfort, sending the whole household into chaos.

Leon had led his unit to take down one of the duchy’s top commanders, forcing the enemy into retreat—even though he was gravely wounded. As a reward, the kingdom granted him a noble title and a floating island.

The family was ecstatic. I, on the other hand, was left with the bitter clarity of just how far Leon had surpassed me. To make matters worse, he returned home in a broken state—battered and haunted.

We did everything we could to help him recover from the trauma, and those early days of pioneering the new territory were nothing short of hell.

Eventually, things began to look up. Leon got engaged to Angelica-san. Since I had attended the academy, I was well aware of the rumors surrounding her and Prince Julius’s broken engagement.

I kept my guard up when she came to our territory. Though we relied on her for her knowledge, I discreetly warned our parents about what I’d heard at school.

Even as I acknowledged her skills and contributions, I couldn’t shake the suspicion that she might be using Leon. I watched her with doubt clouding my eyes. But my fears proved unfounded. Slowly but surely, Leon recovered—and genuinely grew close to Angelica-san.

Pretending to be the proud older brother, all while harboring these ugly emotions—it made me feel like the worst kind of human being. Now, past the age of twenty, it’s time I start thinking seriously about marriage.

Sure, I get polite treatment at social events out here in the frontier. But I know the truth. They’re only nice to me because I’m “the elder brother of the hero, Leon Fou Bartfort."

None of the women are actually looking at me.

They only approach because they can’t have Leon—and see me as the fallback.

I’m sick of noblewomen.

I don’t care if she’s poor or plain—I just want a relationship like my parents had. Like Leon and Angelica-san’s. Honestly, I might be better off handing the title to Colin and living as a commoner.

With thoughts like these circling in my mind, I head off to yet another pointless matchmaking meeting, same as always.

※　※　※　※　※

“No way! Absolutely not! I’m not going out with that woman! Let me go home!!”

Even on the day of his arranged marriage meeting, my brother was still throwing a tantrum. It took the combined efforts of me, Dad, and Colin to force him onto the airship—and even then, he wouldn’t calm down.

Between the three of us—my wife, our parents, Colin, and myself—we had to keep constant watch over him. The moment he found an opening, he’d try to escape.

Big bro, who inherited Dad’s hefty build, easily overpowered me in a contest of brute strength.

I had to restrain his limbs with a joint lock, Dad held him down with sheer force, and Colin took the opportunity to tie him up with rope. Only then were we able to drag him aboard the airship. Was he some kind of wild beast?

“Calm down, Nicks. No one’s forcing you to date her. It’s just a meeting to see her face.”

“That’s a total lie! That woman is clearly coming to crush me with her family’s power! All because I once called her a ‘woman with nothing but looks and pedigree’!”

“I don’t think that’s it. She specifically requested to meet you, Big bro.”

“That’s exactly what’s suspicious! She’s targeting me—it’s a trap, I’m telling you! Cancel the meeting!”

“No chance. You already went to the trouble of dressing up. Don’t waste it.”

“Dressing up?! When I’m being marched into a political feud?!”

“Big bro, arranged marriages aren’t always a bad thing. Maybe she liked you and proposed the match herself.”

“Oh, shut up! Just because your own arranged marriage turned out well! Help your brother escape, you traitor! Angelica-san, can’t we cancel this?!”

“I’m sorry, brother-in-law. This proposal was facilitated by the ducal house. Rejecting it would cause complications with several influential parties.”

“Damn it! Why does this have to happen to me?!”

Being called a traitor by my gentle-hearted older brother was a bit of a shock. As soon as he saw the picture of the arranged partner, he had screamed and barricaded himself in his room. Eventually, we managed to drag him out and get him talking. Apparently, something had happened between him and this woman back in the capital. Ever since, he’s been dead set against the meeting.

“Angie, do you think this really is a trap?”

“I can’t discern the Roseblade family’s true intentions. If this is just harassment, it seems far too elaborate and with no tangible gain. Using the Redgrave house as an intermediary to set this up would risk alienating even the duke’s faction. The Earl wouldn’t risk such a bold move without reason.”

The Roseblade family. A name every noble in the kingdom knows. They descend from a legendary adventurer who earned their title through valor, and since then, the house has produced generations of elite adventurers. Among noble families, they’re one of the most celebrated.

Their history is long and storied—unlike our Bartfort family, which barely clings to nobility through obscure skirmishes and sky pirate hunts. They were one of the few houses that faithfully defended the kingdom during the war with the Principality.

An arranged marriage between the eldest son of a destitute baron and the daughter of such a prestigious earl? The difference in status is laughable. Normally, noble marriages occur between houses of similar standing—typically within a rank or two. A baron might marry into a viscount, fellow baron, or quasi-baronial house at most.

The ducal houses are virtually royalty. Marquesses and earls come next, symbolizing the pinnacle of high nobility. It’s only natural to suspect something fishy when a house like that goes out of its way to name my brother as a potential match.

I glance at Angie, sitting silently beside me, lost in thought.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

Right. The gap between Angie and me was even more extreme. A high-ranking lady with royal blood marrying a newly minted viscount from the sticks? What kind of punishment is that? Now that I know the duke was behind it all, I’ve matured enough to at least vaguely understand how underhanded noble dealings work.

But still—why is Big bro so completely opposed to this meeting? It’s not like he’s ever had to deal with an arranged marriage partner obviously just chasing status or money, like I did.

“Why are you so against it? I get that it’s a hassle, but you’ve been doing matchmaking all this time. Is she really that bad?”

“She’s got a nasty reputation. She’d already graduated by the time I entered the academy, but even back then, she was infamous in high society.”

“What, like a man-chaser, or reckless spender, or someone who bullies commoners?”

That’s the extent of what I imagine when I hear “problematic noblewoman.”

Angie shakes her head. Apparently, this one’s in a league of her own.

“In any case, we should decline the match. With her beauty alone, Dorothea had no shortage of suitors. If she wanted, she could become the king’s concubine with ease.”

“So it doesn’t have to be Big bro, then?”

“Even now, in her mid-twenties, she likely has no trouble attracting suitors.”

“Maybe the ducal house pressured her into it?”

“My father may have sparked the idea, but the Roseblade family’s eagerness is what worries me. Ordinarily, they’d reject any suitor beneath their standing. If it were someone like you—with notable accomplishments—it would make sense. But…”

“Big bro was my adjutant in the war, though. He handled all the noble negotiations, since I was hopeless at that.”

“Even so, it’s a flimsy justification. It’s more reasonable to assume the issue lies with brother-in-law himself.”

Despite our best efforts to calm him, Big bro remains deeply unsettled. At this rate, we’re headed for a major problem.

“Hey, Big bro—what exactly happened?”

“I didn’t do anything! She’s the one who started it!”

“Brother-in-law, please tell us the truth. If this continues, it won’t just affect you. It could become a crisis for the entire Bartfort family.”

When Angie speaks in that serene, commanding voice of hers, my brother finally begins to calm. In moments like these, her presence is truly remarkable. Eventually, Big bro begins to speak, albeit hesitantly, about how everything started.

It began back in the capital—on the night I was summoned to the ducal house and had that ridiculous encounter with those four fools on the way back.

※ ※ ※ ※ ※

The ballroom glitters under the light of chandeliers, bustling with energy. Noble ladies in dazzling gowns and ornate accessories decorate the room like blossoms in full bloom. I used to think noble balls were a world completely detached from mine.

Even now, as a barely-recognized country baron, I can’t help feeling like an outsider. Grabbing a drink, I take a slow lap around the venue, surveying the attendees.

There are a few familiar faces—like that young lady who had her engagement annulled around the same time as Angelica-san. A junior, probably around Leon’s age.

With the kingdom in its current state, it’s not uncommon for people to miss their opportunity to marry. Many bounce between balls and social functions, searching for a match. I’m one of them—but honestly, my heart’s not in it.

I’m well aware that hardly any lady would seriously consider someone from a bottom-tier noble family like mine. I’ve seen the desperation of noble men back at the academy. Even Leon was looked down on as a mere upstart.

And listening to my sisters—who are nearing the end of their marriageable years but still refuse to face reality—has completely shattered whatever illusion I once had of noblewomen.

Like those academy guys who eventually settled for partners based on character rather than appearance or heritage, I just want to marry someone who would accept the Bartfort name without reservations. I finish my lap and linger near the wall with my second drink in hand.

At every party, there are always those who stand out as the center of attention—and others, like me, who quietly fade into the edges. My survival strategy is to approach the latter. That’s how I made connections and kept things smooth back when I was Leon’s adjutant—by handling the nobles who felt sidelined or neglected.

I take a seat, sipping quietly—

—and that’s when I notice two men cornering a woman by the wall.

Though they meet the dress code, something feels off about them. Judging by their posture and attitude, they’re likely upstarts—men who gained rank through war or business. Their gaudy clothing doesn’t match their standing, and the way they’re pressing the woman feels more like tavern flirting than noble courtesy.

No matter how polished your appearance, if you don’t conduct yourself properly, you'll quickly fall out of favor at a noble gathering. Still, this particular ball is meant to be a rare space where people of all ranks can mingle freely. If things get too out of hand, the organizers will intervene. But for now, the tension hasn't yet escalated into a full-blown incident.

Most guests are keeping their distance, unwilling to get involved. That’s when I noticed her—the woman handling those unruly men with surprising composure. She looked familiar. I couldn’t recall her name, but I was fairly certain she had been a senior at the academy when I first enrolled. I hadn’t seen her since she graduated, but it seems she, too, is attending this event.

Noblewomen over the age of twenty often face mounting pressure from their families to marry. I sympathize—my own sister is in the same situation. Sipping my third drink, I watched the scene unfold like a sideshow. Gradually, the voices rose enough for me to catch bits of the conversation.

As beautiful as she was, her pride matched her appearance. She didn’t hold back—mocking the men outright, countering each of their complaints with two or three razor-sharp retorts. A woman with such strength of will—what a waste. Her stunning looks were utterly overshadowed by that biting attitude.

The surrounding guests were clearly pretending not to notice, wanting no part in the mess. This could become trouble if it continues. If memory serves, she hails from a well-regarded family. Should this escalate into a scuffle, her relatives may get involved, potentially putting future events like this at risk—which would only make my search for a wife more difficult. Looks like I have no choice. Since I vaguely know her, I might as well step in.

“Hey there, mind if I interrupt for a moment?”

I approached with a deliberately friendly tone. All three of them turned to look at me.

“This is becoming a bit of a distraction for the other guests. I’d appreciate it if we could tone things down a little.”

“Who the hell are you?” one of the men snapped.

Their eyes narrowed with open hostility. Nouveau riche, no doubt—men who let their wealth do the talking. In cases like this, it’s best to take a humble stance to defuse the tension.

“I’m just saying… this kind of disruption doesn’t reflect well on anyone. Could we perhaps ease things up a bit?”

“She’s the one who kept mocking us!” one of them retorted.

“Even so, if this turns into a scene, it could lead to consequences—being blacklisted from future gatherings, losing favor in high society… that’s not a risk worth taking, is it?”

“What did you just say!?”

One of them lost his temper and grabbed me by the collar. Perfect. Now I had just cause for self-defense. I seized his wrist firmly. I’m not as strong as my father, but years of farm work have given me solid strength. In raw power, I could even match someone like Leon. The man’s face went pale at my unexpected resistance.

“Let’s all take a breather. Maybe a glass of water to cool off? No point in ruining a perfectly good evening.”

“Y-Yeah…”

The men, looking visibly rattled, backed off. Good. Crisis averted. I exhaled a sigh of relief and turned to leave. After all, my real objective tonight was to find a prospective wife.

“Wait.”

I heard someone call out, though I wasn’t sure it was meant for me.

“Wait!”

Turning around, I saw her—the woman I’d helped—glaring at me coldly.

“What’s your deal?” she asked.

“…Huh?”

“I could’ve handled those men myself. Why did you interfere?”

“Uh…”

“I’m asking you a question. Why did you step in?”

Why was I the one getting scolded when I’d just helped defuse a situation? Looking at her more closely, I was struck again by her beauty. She exuded an elegance that was both mature and alluring—refined, never crass. The kind of woman who seemed born to the word noble. Her personality, however, left much to be desired. Still, with her looks, it was no surprise that men constantly pursued her.

“Did you think you could chase off those fools and earn some favor from me?”

“No, not at all. It just seemed like you were in trouble. If I was mistaken, I apologize.”

“I’ve dealt with plenty of men pretending to help, all while plotting with their friends. Are you one of them?”

“It was an act of goodwill, nothing more. In any case, I’ll take my leave.”

She was clearly more trouble than she was worth. Best to distance myself before things got worse.

“Perfect timing,” she said. “You can be my guard.”

“…What?”

“For the remainder of this ball, you’ll stay by my side and fend off any men who try to approach me.”

What on earth was this woman saying? If she hated being approached, why attend a matchmaking ball in the first place?

“My insufferable father forced me to come here. I’ve had enough of being harassed by worthless men. You’ll do. Play the role of my dog.”

“I’ll pass. I may be of low rank, but I’m still a noble. I won’t let anyone treat me like some pet.”

Is this woman out of her mind? Sure, some high-born nobles look down on commoners and lesser nobles. But those types are the worst—obsequious to their superiors and cowardly when war breaks out, running at the first sign of danger. Even after the royal family issued formal warnings about such behavior post-war, there are still those clinging to outdated ideals like her.

“I said I’d put a collar on you and make you my pet. You should be honored.”

“What’s honorable about being mocked?”

“What? Let me guess—you come from some minor family with no notable lineage, right?”

“Shut your damn mouth, you arrogant woman!”

Something in me snapped. My voice rang through the hall, silencing nearby chatter. She stood there, stunned, clearly not expecting such a reaction. Ah, I’ve done it now. As my anger ebbed, cold regret set in. I was probably about to get thrown out of this ball—maybe even blacklisted from all future noble functions. The very warnings I’d given those men had come full circle. But I couldn’t back down now. If I did, I wouldn’t be able to face my family.

“Insult me all you like, but I won’t stand by while someone disgraces my family! Before you go judging others, fix that twisted personality of yours, you wretched woman!”

“Wha—what did you just say!?”

“You call me a dog? Then you’re a bitch yourself! Stop hiding behind your beauty and title—try developing some basic human decency!”

“Do you even know who I am?! How dare you speak to me like that!?”

“I don’t give a damn who you are! This ball was meant to level the playing field—status doesn’t matter tonight! So don’t go waving your family name around like a badge of honor, you idiot! You’ve got nothing but your looks and your pedigree! Go home and cry to your daddy!”

“Tch!”

Her face flushed red as she stormed out of the venue. I stood frozen, watching her retreating figure, only to realize that every pair of eyes in the room was fixed on me in stunned silence.

I’d done it.

If word of this incident spreads, any hopes of finding a wife in the capital are as good as dead. All I wanted was to find a bride quickly to put my parents at ease—but now, that plan’s in shambles. I hastily left the venue and climbed into my carriage.

Back aboard our family’s airship, I yanked off my formalwear and threw myself onto the bed. Maybe I went too far… but the anger in my chest still hadn’t settled. Either way, I’m heading back to Bartfort territory tomorrow.

I’m done with noblewomen. I’ll marry a commoner girl from my hometown and live a quiet life in the countryside. With that resolution in mind, I drained the bottle I’d left out earlier and sulked myself to sleep.

※　※　※　※　※

“You really screwed up, Nicks.”

“You messed up bad, big brother.”

“Completely hopeless.”

“Come on! At least pretend to be on my side!”

Brother’s shout echoed through the room. What am I even supposed to do now? Sure, the other side wasn’t blameless—but we weren’t exactly saints, either. Dorothea-san should’ve at least offered a word of gratitude, but Brother didn’t need to lose his temper and start hurling insults.

“Think this’ll turn into a feud, Angie?”

“Highly unlikely. That’s precisely what’s bothering me—I can’t figure out what the earl or Father are planning.”

“Maybe they’re just trying to make amends?”

“If that were the case, a formal apology would suffice. The duke’s house could mediate, and we’d discuss terms. Arranging a marriage meeting feels… out of place.”

“Could be damage control. Since so many people witnessed it, maybe they’re trying to squash the rumors.”

“With the Roseblade family’s influence, they could silence gossip easily. A marriage meeting seems excessive.”

“Then maybe it’s punishment—forcing her to meet a man she despises?”

“That would fit Dorothea’s situation. She’s turned down dozens of proposals. But still, there are better ways.”

“What if she… fell for Brother?”

“Dorothea? The same woman who rejected even royal proposals? Falling for a frontier baron? Don’t be absurd.”

“Didn’t a duke’s daughter marry a viscount for love?”

“I-I didn’t choose Leon because of his title or territory!”

Flustered, my Angie looked so adorable I almost kissed her on the spot.

“Hey! You two, cut out the flirting!”

Just as a sweet mood started to build between me and Angie, Brother’s sour voice cut in.

What a killjoy.

“But this won’t escalate into a full-on feud, right? Why not just apologize and move on?”

“It’s not that simple, Colin. Nobility is… complicated.”

“Why? If both sides are at fault, just say sorry.”

“The higher your status, the harder it becomes to apologize to someone beneath you. Nobles are expected to be flawless, wise, and just. Admitting fault is seen as weakness.”

Father explained seriously, addressing Colin’s naive but fair point. Honestly, I find all this noble protocol exhausting. But as a upstart, I don’t yet have the strength or influence to ignore them.

“I refuse to apologize! I’d rather fight and die than grovel before that woman!”

“Calm down. We’re your family. We’ll find a way through this.”

It looked like negotiations were going to be anything but smooth. I had important matters to attend to today beyond my brother’s marriage mess, but with this storm brewing, everything felt impossible. Brother, pale and miserable, looked like a condemned man being dragged to the gallows.

“There’s no god out there saving the honest and weak! The world’s broken!!”

His shout rang through the room and faded into the clear sky beyond the airship’s windows.

※　※　※　※　※

Sunlight streamed through the window, warming the room. In a floating island like this, sunlight held far greater significance than it did on the surface. Temperature, plant growth, airflow—everything depended on it. That’s why noble estates had much larger windows than commoners’ homes: to soak in as much light as possible.

But for the master of this room, the sunlight pouring from the cloudless sky brought no comfort. Their heart was a storm of cumulonimbus clouds—torrential rain, thunderous anxiety. Sighing for what felt like the hundredth time that morning, Earl Roseblade glanced at the clock.

Only a few hours remained until the dreaded appointment—a judgment day masquerading as a marriage meeting.

*Knock knock*

A soft knock at the door made them flinch. Composing themselves, they straightened up and called out:

“…Enter.”

“Pardon the intrusion.”

A beautiful blonde woman with blue eyes stepped in. Though she bore a resemblance to Dorothea, her meticulously curled hair distinguished her immediately. Relieved that it was his daughter, the earl let out a soft breath.

“How is Dorothea?”

“As restless as ever. She’s redecorating her room again—causing quite the fuss.”

“If she starts another scene, call me. We don’t have time for delays.”

“Understood.”

“…Wait, Deirdre.”

The earl called out just as his daughter turned to leave. Refined and dignified, Deirdre embodied a noble’s grace. Her pride could be seen as a flaw, but it was within tolerable limits.

“Do you think Dorothea’s marriage meeting will go well?”

“…May I speak candidly?”

“Please do.”

“Honestly, I think it’s impossible. Regardless of Dorothea’s feelings, I doubt the man will return them.”

“I see…”

“Poor Dorothea. To discover her first love, only to be rejected in the same breath.”

“Still, we can’t back down now. We’ve already asked the Redgrave family to mediate. If this were simply a failed marriage meeting, it wouldn’t be a problem. But with the public insults exchanged, who knows how the Bartfort family might respond?”

“Isn’t that overthinking it? Even if his brother is Leon Fou Bartfort, would they really dare challenge the Roseblade family head-on?”

“Deirdre, could you forgive a man who humiliated Dorothea in public?”

“…”

“Exactly. It’s not far-fetched to assume Viscount Bartfort feels the same.”

“You’re not suggesting the Roseblades would lose to the Bartforts, are you?”

“Not in a direct feud. But remember, his wife is Angelica—once a duke’s daughter. The Redgrave family would intervene. And if that happens, we’d be the ones to fall.”

A heavy silence settled over the room. In noble society, marriage is politics. And politics is a substitute for war. The earl had already accepted this marriage meeting as the opening move of a political skirmish.

“Deirdre.”

“Yes, Father?”

“If I ordered you to marry Nicks Fou Bartfort instead, would you accept? Given your age and temperament, you’d be a better match than Dorothea.”

She hesitated. In many ways, she was more suitable. She could hardly recall if they’d even spoken before—but that was common in noble marriages.

“…If it’s your command, I’ll obey. However…”

“Yes?”

“I don’t want to make Dorothea cry.”

“…I see.”

As his daughter left the room, the earl leaned back in his chair, deep in thought. The world is changing. And if that man stands at the center of this shift, then bowing one’s head may be a small price to place a daughter by his side. If Dorothea, so unfamiliar with love, had finally fallen for someone—it was a father’s duty to secure her happiness at any cost. With steeled resolve, Earl Roseblade rose to go to his daughter.

“God… don’t forsake us.”

And so, with both parties carrying misunderstandings and approaching the meeting like convicts awaiting judgment, a strange and fateful encounter was set into motion. Meanwhile, in that same land, those who would decide the destiny of the Holfort Kingdom were beginning to gather.

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Authors Note

┻━⁠━━━━⁠━━⁠━━━⁠┻

Another chapter featuring Big bro Nicks.

And introducing Young Lady Deirdre. It’s an Anjash-like situation where both sides overestimate each other. For nobles, pride is everything. You can’t let someone who disrespects you off the hook. Nicks achieves perfect communication with Dorothea while Leon and the duke’s house aren’t even involved. You two really are perfect for each other. In the original, Dorothea marries Nicks and gets pregnant, but in this story, as Angie’s sister-in-law, she’ll have a decent role.

I’d love to hear your thoughts and feedback to keep me motivated for future chapters!