Chapter 13: Wedding Preparations (4)
The Duchess ordered a maid to investigate Aracila.
After all, there was no such thing as a person without a single speck of dirt.
Moreover, with her striking appearance that easily captured men’s attention, there had to have been at least one scandal in her past.
She waited eagerly for the results, expecting something scandalous.
However, all she received was a single sheet of paper.
And to make matters worse, the contents were far from what she had hoped for.
Instead of uncovering anything that could paint Aracila as a promiscuous temptress, the report only contained records of her beating up men.
“Is this truly all there is?”
“Yes, Duchess. Lady Hugo has always been a firm believer in remaining single. She has never been in a relationship with any man, and as a social outcast, she has never caused any notable incidents.”
The Duchess let out a heavy sigh.
This unsociable tendency, which had kept her from getting involved in scandals, was eerily similar to Damian’s.
Of all the traits she could share with him, it had to be this one.
Even worse, every instance where she had beaten up a man had been justified, making it difficult to use against her.
“Is there truly no man around her who could be linked to an inappropriate relationship?”
“The closest man she interacts with… would be His Highness, the Crown Prince.”
“Are you telling me to target a member of the imperial family?!”
The Duchess snapped, her voice rising in frustration.
No matter how desperate she was, pulling the Crown Prince into this mess could lead to disastrous consequences.
At her outburst, the maid shrank back and clamped her mouth shut.
The Duchess fell into deep thought.
“Should I create a scandal around Damian instead? No, that block of wood is just as clean when it comes to romance. I need to make Aracila Hugo give up on the marriage…”
Just then, another maid rushed in, her face flustered.
“Duke Vandermir has arrived!”
“What? Right now?”
“Yes, he’s waiting outside.”
The Duchess glared at the mahogany door before nodding.
At her signal, the maid opened it, and Damian strode in at a leisurely pace.
“What brings you here?”
“I came seeking advice regarding the marriage.”
“…Advice?”
The Duchess’s eyes swept over her stepson, filled with suspicion.
What was he plotting?
Damian walked forward with his hands clasped behind his back and tossed a document folder onto the table.
It was the list of dowry demands he had received from Aracila.
The Duchess frowned, glancing between the documents and Damian.
“When issues arise between two families due to a marriage, what do you think is the wisest way to resolve them?”
“Why are you asking me that? If this is about the dowry, then I absolutely—”
“The answer would be to seek out a respected elder who can mediate and swiftly persuade all parties involved.”
Damian cut her off coldly, his gaze piercing.
The dowry was merely the beginning.
The Vandermirs would undoubtedly continue to make unreasonable demands.
Before Aracila could become fed up and abandon their contract marriage, Damian had to act preemptively.
“That’s why I was considering consulting the greatest elder in the empire—His Majesty, the Emperor. What do you think, Duchess?”
“You…!”
The Duchess shot to her feet, pointing a trembling finger at him.
There was no greater humiliation than having a dispute over dowry reach the imperial family.
Not to mention, the Emperor was already aware of the arranged marriage between the two houses.
If he got involved, objecting would be nearly impossible.
“As it happens, I am scheduled for an audience with His Majesty soon.”
“Are you threatening me?”
“Of course not. I simply hope you will exercise restraint before our family’s affairs are dragged into public disgrace.”
Damian took a step closer, lowering his voice as he whispered near her ear.
“It wouldn’t look good if rumors spread that you were tormenting the bride of the son you barely even care for, would it?”
“Hah…!”
“I’ve already cut the dowry list in half. If you want more jewels or dresses, speak to my father about it.”
His lips curled slightly in a smirk.
The Duchess, whose features resembled her husband’s all too much, glared at him with an expression that could kill.
Damian slowly stepped back, his smirk fading as he returned to his usual impassive demeanor.
“The boy who could do nothing while you destroyed his precious things is gone. Now, no matter what it takes, I will protect what is mine.”
The Duchess faltered under the sheer menace emanating from his golden eyes.
Her legs trembled involuntarily.
Without another word, Damian gave a curt bow and exited.
Left behind, the Duchess clenched her teeth as she accepted the support of a maid and sank onto the sofa.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Damian Vandermir! Do you think I’ll yield just because of your pathetic threats?!”
She then turned sharply to the maid.
“Send a letter to Aracila Hugo immediately!”
Frederick Read the Letter That Arrived Along With a Gift.
After the ball, there had been no contact between them, and now, out of nowhere, Aracila had sent him a letter.
To Frederick.
I don’t know why you’re mad, but get over it. I don’t have many friends as it is, and I don’t want to lose you right before my wedding.
If I did something wrong (though honestly, I don’t think I did… it just seems like you’re sulking for no reason…), then I’ll apologize.
Write back when you feel better.
– Aracila.
The letter was so typical of Aracila that Frederick let out a small chuckle.
But the moment his eyes landed on the word “wedding,” his expression darkened.
With a shadowed face, he rose from his seat and stepped out into the garden.
The attendants, noticing his mood, hesitated before cautiously following him from a distance.
The warm sunlight and vibrant flowers decorated the path he walked, yet the atmosphere around the Crown Prince was nothing but gloomy.
“No matter how much I think about it, I just don’t understand. I’ve gone over it hundreds of times, and I still can’t accept it.”
Frederick furrowed his brows, as if in pain.
When had Aracila fallen in love with a knight, let alone decided to marry him?
She was never one to concern herself with others, nor did she openly share her thoughts.
Even so, it made no sense that there had been no signs—none at all.
“Even Paula didn’t know.”
He recalled the conversation he had with Paula just the day before.
When he asked if she had known about Aracila’s engagement in advance, she had replied—
“I had no idea Aracila was seeing Sir Vandermir. She only told me after the wedding was decided. When I asked her about it, she said she fell for his face. It’s an unusual reason for her, right? And considering they haven’t been together long, it’s strange that they’re getting married so soon.”
It was absolutely ridiculous.
Aside from the Hugo family, the people closest to Aracila were Paula and himself.
And yet, neither of them had known?
Frederick, in particular, had always kept a close watch on the men around Aracila.
He had mercilessly driven away those foolish enough to dare pursue her.
So how had Damian Vandermir slipped past his radar and managed to date Aracila?
“Something’s off. There’s definitely something going on.”
After watching Aracila closely for seven years, his instincts screamed at him that something was amiss.
Frowning, Frederick absentmindedly turned his head—only to freeze when he spotted a man emerging from the audience chamber.
Silver hair gleaming under the sun, sharp yet refined features, golden eyes that outshone pure gold, and the crimson hawk emblem embroidered on his uniform.
Damian Vandermir.
Frederick silently observed him as he strode forward with squared shoulders and an unwavering gait.
Then, in a low voice, he called to his attendant.
“Jackson, investigate Sir Damian Vandermir from head to toe. Assign someone to track Aracila as well and report her whereabouts.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
If Damian Vandermir was a dangerous man for Aracila, then it was only right for Frederick to intervene and remove him from the picture.
He firmly believed that after all the years he had spent as Aracila’s friend, he had the right—and the duty—to do so.
Philip Was the One Who Recruited Aracila to the Mage Tower.
As the current Master of the Mage Tower, he was the longest-serving tower master in history.
During a special lecture at the academy, he had recognized the talent of a second-year student named Aracila and swiftly took her in as his disciple.
And after thoroughly overworking her while teaching her magic, he now stood as her strongest ally within the tower.
“Hohoho. At first, I thought you had gone senile, Aracila. Even though I’m the one who should be losing my mind at this age.”
Philip stroked his beard as he enjoyed tea with his prized disciple.
They were seated in the tower master’s chamber on the top floor of the Mage Tower.
“It feels like just yesterday when you barged into my lab, boldly declaring that you would never marry and demanding that I hand over the tower master’s position. And now, you’re getting married? Hohoho.”
There was an unspoken rule that married female mages could neither become tower master nor continue working at the Mage Tower.
Because of this, a teenage Aracila had made such a declaration to her master.
Finding his peculiar laughter as strange as ever, Aracila shrugged and responded.
“It’s not a real marriage. We each have something we want, so we’re getting married to achieve our goals. Once that’s done, we’ll divorce.”
She had kept this a secret from everyone else, but for the sake of securing her place as the next tower master, she had to be honest with her mentor.
She couldn’t afford to be excluded from the succession race because of this contract marriage.
“Hoho, and what exactly is it that you want from that knight?”
His narrow eyes glinted sharply.
Aracila took a sip of her tea instead of answering.
“Do you know people are already calling you the second coming of Lexie Ritterson?”
“Which bastards are saying that? I bet those cowards wouldn’t dare say a word to my face, but they sure enjoy running their mouths behind my back.”
It was true.
People knew Aracila’s temperament well enough that they were too afraid to gossip openly, so they whispered behind her back instead.
“Hohoho. Aracila, if what you gain from this knight is not worth more than your future, then why not abandon this plan?”
“It is worth more than my future.”
Her sister’s life was something she would never trade for anything in this world.
Even if it meant giving up an easier path to becoming tower master and taking a much longer route, Aracila had no intention of abandoning this marriage.
“As soon as Sir Vandermir inherits the duchy, we’ll divorce. There won’t be any children involved, and he’s also eager to take the title quickly, so it won’t take long.”
“But what if you change your mind and decide to stay married?”
“With that miserable knight?”
Aracila scoffed.
No matter how handsome or impressive he was, Damian Vandermir was not the kind of man she wanted.
“I’m far too good for that.”
“Hoho, don’t be so sure. The human heart is one thing that even magic cannot control.”
“Work is more important to me than love. I won’t let something as trivial as emotions ruin my future.”
At her resolute answer, Philip smiled in satisfaction.
“Hohoho, that’s exactly how it should be. That’s the kind of disciple I raised.”
He was growing older, but he could still hold on for a while longer.
There was time to carefully select a successor.
He wanted to entrust this position to the most capable student he had.
As long as Aracila truly followed through with the divorce, there would be no issue.
“As long as she doesn’t fall in love like the others.”
Yet, having lost several disciples to love in the past, Philip couldn’t shake a lingering sense of unease.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ✧: *. ꕥ .* :✧ﾟ. ───
