75.

“I’m going to drop dead.”

That was my sentiment over the past three months.

Time flew by, and spring was now in full bloom, with only about a month left until the wedding.

Under Lady Seymour’s strict supervision, the wedding preparations proceeded at a frightening pace. Meanwhile, the household affairs were handled by Erika, and hilariously enough, my prospective husband, Norma, was in charge of Archie.

Despite the constant flow of people and supplies from Diazi, McFoy was perpetually short of hands. Preparing for the wedding alone was overwhelming, but the real reason I had to stay up through the night was the upcoming festival.

The McFoy Festival, which had recently become known as the Met Festival, was a celebration of the rebirth of all things, with McFoy honoring the met that could be said to sustain the West.

The Founding Day celebration lasted a month, but the festival was only a week—a brief, yet seemingly endless period of drinking and revelry.

There was a mountain of preparations to be done before then. From organizing large and small events to adjusting taxes and tightening security. And in between all this, I had to squeeze in wedding preparations. It was a whirlwind, leaving no time to reconsider the marriage. Thus, I found myself hurtling toward the wedding at full speed.

I pressed on the dark circles under my eyes with a frown. I definitely did not look like a bride who was getting married in just over two weeks.

“Who’s next?”

“Madame Stan, My Lord.”

Erika, equally exhausted with dark shadows under her eyes, pushed up her glasses as she answered. The fact that she had taken out her glasses said it all—she was genuinely struggling.

“Great.”

The next person to be seen was none other than the overly energetic and loud Ektra Stan. However, the news she was bringing today was important. Petra Landry had given birth a month earlier than expected a few days ago.

“What news have you brought?”

“As the letter stated, Petra Landry gave birth prematurely. It’s a girl, and after the temple’s confirmation—”

Ektra hesitated, glancing at me before continuing.

“The child is indeed Philip Morfolk’s. My apologies, My Lord.”

“Send the child to the ‘Hugo Temple’ as agreed.”

Ektra nodded belatedly at my calm response. I had known that Petra’s child would be Philip’s, but it seemed that others had been quite anxious about it.

The red-eyed beauty who had proposed the deal to me had only one request.

She wanted the child’s status cleansed. I had expected her to ask for protection for herself, but she hadn’t. If she had, the deal wouldn’t have gone through. She was smart enough to know that.

The Morfolk family, bearing the greatest disgrace of their lineage, would be out for blood, ready to tear Petra apart, and the child would become a target of their wrath.

Petra had said she wanted to at least do this much for her daughter. Knowing that even the temple was corrupt, she asked that if she had a girl, the child be sent to Hugo, where only female priests reside, to become a temple orphan.

Petra wasn’t bad at scheming.

A temple orphan typically referred to a child born in a temple with no parents. It was an appropriate way to give the child a new life, free from her unworthy parents. If the child was lucky enough to possess divine power, she might even become a priestess.

Hugo, which only accepted female priests, was difficult to enter, but with the McFoy name, it could be arranged.

“Yes. And what about Landry?”

“She’ll survive somehow. She’s clever enough to stay hidden for a while.”

I answered dryly as I stamped the document to finalize the pact. Ektra didn’t bring up the topic any further.

“The wedding preparations must be nearly complete.”

However, instead of leaving, Ektra lingered. I furrowed my brow and glared at her smug expression.

“I was wondering when you’d ask. So, do you approve now?”

“What’s there to say?”

Ektra then began an unsolicited tirade of praise for my prospective husband. Exhausted as I was, most of it went in one ear and out the other.

“—So, how did the proposal happen?”

Proposal?

Just as I was about to tell her to shut up and leave, one of the many words that had been filtering through my ears caught my attention.

Why ask about the proposal? It felt like she was referring to something different from the proposal I knew. Ektra was knowledgeable about all sorts of random things, after all.

“Diazi sent a proposal, and I stamped it and sent it back.”

“…Not that kind of proposal. The proposal.”

I see, this isn’t what she meant.

Seeing my confusion, Ektra gave me a look that seemed to say she was staring at garbage.

“What’s with that disdainful expression now?”

“Are you saying that beautiful man came all the way from Diazi to McFoy and didn’t even receive a proper proposal?”

Erika shot a warning look at Ektra, as if telling her not to make things worse, but Ektra didn’t stop her rant.

“My Lord, since you’ve brought someone from another family, you should have prepared a grand and formal setting to propose to him.”

Ektra spoke as if she were a loyal subject risking her life to offer advice to a tyrant.

“He was the one who suggested it first. What’s the point of asking when we both knew it was going to happen?”

The mere thought of how inefficient it sounded made me cringe, but Ektra clutched her chest in exasperation.

“This isn’t about efficiency. If it were me, I’d be terribly disappointed and sad. And you haven’t even shown your face properly, claiming you’re too busy with the festival preparations, haven’t you?”

That, she was right about.

When was the last time I even saw Norma Diazi? I had at least made an effort to have meals together consistently after he first arrived, but lately, I’d been too busy and had started taking my meals in the office.

Had I neglected him too much?

“He’s alone in this far-off place, with no assurance or trust from you, and you’ve just left him alone…”

Ektra delivered the final blow.

“He’s not alone. There are plenty of people sent by Diazi.”

My pathetic excuse was met with another disdainful look from Ektra.

Her relentless attacks left me feeling dazed. I recalled the time Norma Diazi had asked me to make him happy, closing his eyes as if he didn’t expect much. The image of his golden eyes trembling as he said he didn’t ask for much flashed through my mind.

‘This… really makes me seem like a bit of a jerk.’

Once again, I was the guilty party.

Erika silently listened to that nonsense, watching as the head of the household seriously contemplated it, her lips moving slightly.

After a brief silence, I asked, “So how do I go about making a proper proposal?”

Erika’s face twisted in disbelief, while Ektra’s face lit up with a triumphant smile.

‘That meddling old fool!’

Despairing, Erika took off her glasses and glared at Ektra. But Ektra, unfazed, eagerly began to share the details of the romantic fantasy she had cultivated over decades.

According to Ektra, proposing was not something originally practiced by nobles with exchanged proposal letters but rather a custom that began among commoners. Normally, it was considered polite for the family bringing in someone from another house to formally ask for the marriage.

That didn’t seem too different from the proposals I knew. Summoning someone to a secluded garden, asking the question, and getting the answer—wasn’t that essentially the same thing?

I figured it was nothing special. If I thought about it, the kiss I shared with Norma Diazi at Tibey’s mansion could be considered a proposal, couldn’t it?

But in hindsight, I realized I hadn’t given him a proper response that day. …It seemed more like I had grabbed him by the collar. And of course, I hadn’t explicitly asked him about his intentions for marriage.

‘It’s always better to be certain.’

Ektra emphasized that a proposal should be a memorable and magical moment, something one would remember for a lifetime.

‘A magical moment? That’s highly subjective, isn’t it?’

As if reading my thoughts, Ektra advised me that if I was planning to handle this casually by calling him out to a garden and proposing in front of all the servants, I should instead ask Norma Diazi directly what he liked.

* * *

“What’s your favorite place in McFoy?”

The question, posed during dinner after a long absence, was rather unexpected. Norma blinked at Aisa’s interrogative tone before answering.

“McFoy is beautiful everywhere, but I particularly like the East Tower, where you can see all the activity of McFoy at a glance.”

Norma was thinking of the East Tower, overlooking the old city’s bustling markets.

“Then, do you prefer white, yellow, or blue?”

“Hmm, yellow.”

Aisa nodded as if she had expected that answer, then immediately moved on to the next question.

“What’s your favorite color for flowers?”

“Purple.”

She hesitated for a moment, raising her left eyebrow as she stared at him, as if trying to gauge whether he was sincere. Apparently pressed for time, she quickly asked something else.

“And how do you feel about after the sun sets?”

“I like it.”

She flinched a second time at his straightforward answer but quickly composed herself, adopting a serious expression as she continued.

“Then, let’s meet at the East Tower at sunset on the last day of the festival.”

Norma nodded readily, and as soon as Aisa heard his response, she said, “That’s all,” and disappeared. Her departure was as abrupt as her arrival.

“Why is Auntie acting like that? Did she just challenge Sir Diazi to a duel?”

Archie, setting down his fork, asked with a bewildered expression.

“I think she cares for me in her own way.”

‘No way. She looked angry to me. That was definitely a challenge to a duel.’

Archie couldn’t make heads or tails of what Norma meant and just thought that Sir Diazi, who was about to marry his eccentric aunt, was a bit pitiful.

Meanwhile, Norma couldn’t contain the smile tugging at his lips. He was overjoyed just to have had a conversation with her after so long, but it seemed she was planning something again.

‘She’s definitely not trying to surprise me if she’s asking so directly like this.’

She’s just too cute. Norma couldn’t help but place his hand over his heart, which was beating erratically, and Archie watched him with concern.

* * *

“Is Edio ready?”

“He’s been waiting at the lake for a while.”

Erika thought this was pure madness but answered dutifully, noting how uncharacteristically nervous her master seemed.

Edio, the highest-ranking priest in the West, was undoubtedly a top-tier individual. But today, he was reduced to nothing more than the lighting technician for the bizarre proposal event that the head of the Western lands, Aisa McFoy, had concocted.

As soon as the sun set, for the first time since Aisa had become the head of McFoy, a fireworks display would light up the McFoy estate.

Edio, a high priest with rare golden divine power, was waiting in the freezing cold in the middle of the lake, all in accordance with Norma Diazi’s preferences.

“If you’re tired, you should rest a bit before the sun sets. As your loyal servant, I must say, you don’t look human.”

My master had stayed up for two nights straight preparing for this proposal on the last day of the festival for her prospective husband. Naturally, she didn’t look like someone about to propose, nor did she resemble a bride-to-be set to marry in a week.

“I can’t. If I fall asleep, I won’t wake up. Even divine power doesn’t seem to ease the fatigue anymore.”

“Shall I bring you some tea to help you relax?”

“…Relax? Me? Ha! That’s ridiculous.”

The idea that Aisa McFoy would be nervous was laughable. Aisa scoffed at Erika’s concern in an arrogant tone. How could this situation make her nervous?

But she knew full well how many times she had chewed her lips until they were raw. After unexpectedly dropping by while Norma was eating to find out his preferences, she had cut back on sleep to prepare for both the festival and this moment.

And now, finally, on the last day of the damn festival, it was the first time she would see him since that day.