Chapter 1
It was clear just from the pre-wedding banquet how much effort the Marquis of Bartel had put into this wedding. The guests who had come to celebrate the union between the Marquis of Bartle and Lady Lavian, daughter of Count Elder, were astonished at the grandeur of the banquet hall, which rivaled even those held in the Imperial Palace.
“What kind of pre-wedding party is this…?”
“Well, the sixty-nine-year-old Marquis of Bartle is marrying a twenty-year-old, and not just anyone — the most beautiful woman in the Empire. This much is only to be expected.”
“I suppose that’s true.”
Elegantly dressed gentlemen chuckled lewdly.
“I never even dared to make a move since Count Elder was so uptight, but if I’d known she’d be passed off like this, maybe I would’ve tried.”
“Do you even have the means to pay off the Elder family’s debts?”
A man wearing a deep red cravat laughed slyly.
Not just them — many others couldn’t hide their thinly veiled ridicule.
The Marquis of Bartle was not unaware of such sentiment, but he dismissed it all as mere jealousy. In his eyes, he had gained a fantastical wife, one that would stir envy in many, and the corners of his mouth refused to drop from their smug lift.
However, Lavian — a woman of high pride and noble dignity, the legitimate daughter of the esteemed and honorable Count Elder — hadn’t smiled even once. Though her eyes curved gently in a show of calmness, they were hollow, and the lips hidden beneath her veil remained tightly sealed, unmoving.
“Congratulations on the wedding. But I didn’t expect to see Lady Lavian here.”
A baroness who had traveled from a distant province looked at Lavian with surprise.
Traditionally, the bride did not appear before anyone other than her mother and sisters the day before the wedding. Even with a veil, this was against custom.
“What does tradition matter these days? We’re practically already married. Right, dear?”
The Marquis of Bartle’s words and behavior were prone to misunderstandings.
The baroness forced a stiff smile, trying to keep her twitching facial muscles in check.
‘Isn’t he implying they’re already living together before even exchanging vows? Taking in a wife young enough to be his granddaughter, with no regard for propriety…’
The Marquis had been spreading such rumors ever since the engagement was announced, caring little for the whispers it stirred around Lavian.
‘Can’t rest easy until the vows are said. I have to do this to keep the lechers at bay.’
Knowing full well the baroness’s awkward smile, the Marquis still pulled Lavian closer, fondling her waist, intensifying the misunderstanding.
Even amidst such scandalous treatment, Lavian remained unresponsive.
Lavian Adelaide von Elder was known for her virtuous conduct, elegant demeanor, and grace — a role model for noble young ladies. To her, this moment was disgraceful and humiliating.
But she had already resigned herself to everything.
‘I just hope everything ends soon.’
She lacked both the will and desire to escape his grasp, lowering her head slightly in response — whether that was a nod or not was unclear, but the Marquis didn’t care, continuing to prattle with a pleased air.
“See? Even my wife agrees.”
“Y-yes, of course.”
The baroness stepped back, making clear she no longer wished to engage.
At that moment, the Marquis’s butler approached.
“My Lord, a letter from His Majesty.”
“I see. If you’ll excuse me. Lavian, enjoy yourself.”
Licking his lips as if reluctant to leave, the Marquis handed Lavian a glass of strong wine.
He had no intention of letting her return to the Count’s estate tonight, and had been diligently pushing alcohol on her from the beginning of the banquet. His intentions were all too clear — he meant to take advantage of her once she was too drunk to resist.
Ever since their engagement, the Marquis had been desperate to claim Lavian, barely restraining himself. But now, with just one day left, he could no longer contain his lust.
Lavian saw right through his intentions, biting the inside of her mouth and forcing herself to stay sober.
“Congratulations, Lady Lavian. The Marquis truly adores you. I mean, who wouldn’t, with such a fresh and beautiful bride? Even I would have trouble holding back.”
In the Marquis’s absence, a group of ladies who had always viewed Lavian as a thorn in their side approached.
‘Hmph. She’d rarely appear at banquets, just standing around blankly, yet always stole everyone’s attention. And now look at her.’
‘She acted so above it all, turning down every advance. Now she’s just a joke. Let’s enjoy this.’
‘Pretending she was too pure for men — all that lofty attitude, only to be sold off for money. Ha!’
Sensing a golden opportunity, they swarmed in to tear her apart under the guise of offering greetings.
“Playing all high and mighty, and now you’re marrying some old man pushing seventy. Must be quite the guts you’ve got,” they sneered, expecting a reaction from Lavian, their eyes glinting with malicious delight.
But the lifeless Lavian simply accepted the moment without response.
Her silence only infuriated them more.
“Lord Bartle is quite sprightly for his age, isn’t he?”
“Lady Lavian, you must be happy. Such a splendid groom, and he adores you! Just look at all this. No wonder Count Elder chose him.”
This time, the mockery touched on the Elder family’s circumstances. Lavian was not unaware of the ridicule, but she still showed no reaction.
Because, truthfully, it wasn’t so much a marriage as it was being sold off to pay a debt.
The Elder County was a shadow of its former glory.
And it was all due to Count Celeno—the only heir of the 250-year-old Elder lineage and Lavian’s father.
In his rebellion against his father, Celeno had indulged in every vice and pleasure imaginable, racking up a mountain of debt.
When he found himself on the verge of ruin, he decided to hand Lavian over to the wealthy and aging Lord Bartel, who had no heir. Lavian’s own wishes had never been a part of the equation.
Count Elder, hoping not only to pay off his debts but to one day inherit Lord Bartel’s fortune, was thrilled with the match. So much so that he sent Lavian here alone the moment Bartel paid off half the debt.
“Of course, something like this is to be expected. Even if things are urgent, it’s still the Elder Count’s daughter—we can’t have her picking up just anything off the street.”
“Exactly. Ah, didn’t the late Count Elder care deeply for Lady Lavian? He would’ve been so pleased to see this wedding… What a shame.”
Their sarcasm deepened in the face of Lavian’s silence. The implication: ‘Even if times are hard, how disgraceful to trample on your ancestors’ legacy and be sold to an old man. If the late Count saw this, he’d be rolling in his grave.’
“You’re right, Lady Alita. One shouldn’t just pick up anything. It might make you sick.”
“R-right…”
For a brief moment, Lavian’s dull gaze flickered.
She had been raised to obey and submit to her parents, but no one ever taught her to be silent in the face of outsiders.
Still, she didn’t lash out. She had no strength to fight, and no words to counter. Because they weren’t wrong—she had no pride left to deny it.
But when they touched upon her grandfather, the situation changed.
‘How dare you. Do you know whose name you’re speaking?’
That was a line Lavian couldn’t allow them to cross.
No matter how humiliating her current state was, she was still the only legitimate daughter of the noble Elder family—a lineage with a proud military and political legacy. Her grandfather’s honor had to be defended.
Even if she had no words, she had to create some. Even if she’d given up everything, she had to summon the strength.
“Lady Alita.”
“What is it?”
Startled by the sudden change in Lavian’s demeanor, the ladies tensed.
Lavian lifted her lips into a serene smile. She folded her eyes into a gentle crescent, hiding the humiliation and grief beneath her expression.
“Be careful not to get sick yourself. It’s best not to play too long with male courtesans. Unless, of course, you want to be excommunicated. And don’t forget—you owe your title as a baron’s daughter to my grandfather.”
“……”
Her gaze was sharp and haughty as she looked down at them.
No matter what anyone said, Lavian was still the highest-ranked noblewoman present.
Just because she kept quiet didn’t mean she was weak.
Though she wore a gentle smile, the intensity in her eyes made the women recoil in fear.
But even then, someone who couldn’t read the room spoke up.
“You may feel unsettled, but don’t let the wine take control. There are plenty of fine young men here tonight, after all.”
This came from someone who herself wasn’t exactly selective in her nightly company.
Lavian responded again with a soft, composed smile.
“I’m not the kind of person who can’t tell right from wrong. But thank you for the advice.”
The woman turned red down to her neck and fled in embarrassment.
Watching them retreat, Lavian turned with graceful poise. As she did, her expression once again drained of all emotion.
‘I’m sorry I’m only capable of this much… Grandfather.’
With that silent apology, Lavian began walking, hoping a little fresh air might help.
Her head had been spinning for a while now, but despite that, her gait remained flawlessly elegant.
Raised to never falter in public, she sought a quiet place away from the crowd.
Before long, she found herself at the annex behind the garden.
With everyone busy for the banquet, the place was deserted.
Still, she didn’t forget to check her surroundings carefully.
“Haa…”
Only after confirming that no one was around did Lavian release a breath she’d been holding.
The dizziness made her stumble briefly, but she held on tightly to her dress and steadied herself.
After several deep breaths, the cold, clean night air cleared her mind.
It was finally bearable to breathe.
The early March night was chilly, but for Lavian, it felt just right.
Yet the moment she felt relief, a wave of self-loathing washed over her.
‘How disgusting… to be breathing like I want to live after all this.’
Even if no one else did, she cruelly mocked and judged herself.
She straightened her posture with bitter self-reproach and turned her head toward the banquet hall glowing in the night.
“I don’t want to go back.”
The words slipped out before she could stop them.
But Lavian was a woman whose identity was built on formality and decorum.
She had been raised to fulfill her parental duty, even if it went against her own heart.
No matter how loudly her heart screamed, her body would inevitably move toward that place.
She didn’t even consider running away. Instead, she chose the moment she would return.
“I should go.”
She wished she could have lingered a little longer, but that luxury wasn’t hers to take.
‘If Lord Bartel notices I’m gone and sends people out, others might get dragged into this. I should go back.’
Lavian didn’t want to cause trouble for innocent people.
So, she stifled her small, selfish desire and turned to head back toward the banquet.
That’s when it happened.
“Ugh!”
A strong force shoved her against a wall. She let out a faint gasp and furrowed her brows.
Fear rose—then in a flash, something sparked in her mind.
‘An opportunity…’
Instead of screaming, Lavian calmed her startled heart and moved only her eyes.
She stared directly at her assailant, her gaze eerily calm.
Her sky-blue eyes met the deep sapphire gaze of a masked man.
He smelled faintly of coffee.
His piercing stare and lifeless eyes were oddly compelling as they locked gazes.
But Lavian’s eyes dropped when she caught a glint of steel reflecting in the light.
She had noticed the blade.
‘A knife.’
Despite the weapon, her face remained emotionless—like that of a doll.
She formed a strangely beautiful curve with her lips beneath the veil and spoke:
“Go on. Kill me.”
