Chapter 24
A little rewind to the night of the audience with the Emperor.
That night, Nocturne had a dream similar to the one he’d had before.
Was it because his brother had brought up his engagement to Charlotte?
In the dream, “Nocturne,” who had long hair like a wizard, sat in a place similar to his office, writing a proposal letter.
“Haa, I’m so nervous.”
His mouth moved on its own, speaking aloud. Though he wanted to frown at the unfamiliar sensation, his expression remained flushed.
‘Nocturne’ soon gave up and dropped his gaze.
It was a proposal letter addressed to Charlotte Dapsine.
At a glance, the handwriting was elegant—so much so that even the Empire’s best calligrapher couldn’t compare.
“Hmm, it’s still a bit lacking compared to Charlotte.”
A long sigh escaped his lips. His tone was genuinely regretful.
‘Nocturne’ laughed bitterly to himself.
He had never seen such graceful handwriting in his life. Yet, this dream-self thought it was lacking compared to Charlotte’s?
He always thought there must be something wrong with his head in these dreams.
“Still, I hope you smile when you receive my proposal.”
Despite his thoughts, his voice was filled with longing, and it resonated deeply within ‘Nocturne.’
The excitement of finally being able to make her his.
The anxiety of whether she would like it.
And yet, an overwhelming happiness that made it hard to breathe.
“I hope… you will love me.”
Nocturne lowered his face toward the proposal letter. Holding the neatly folded parchment to his forehead, he laughed softly.
If anyone saw such a face, how could they not fall in love?
‘Nocturne’ felt that laughter as he blankly pondered.
The scene shifted.
When he came to, he was wearing a tuxedo with a white robe draped over it—the distinctive attire of the Empire’s mages.
“I hereby declare these two to be husband and wife.”
The officiant’s voice rang in ‘Nocturne’s’ ears.
“And now, the vow of the kiss.”
What? The vow of the kiss?
‘Nocturne’ panicked, but his body moved on its own.
Only then did he realize the person beside him was Charlotte Dapsine.
“Ah…”
A sigh slipped out—whether it was his own or the body’s, he couldn’t tell.
A pure white dress. Her golden hair, gleaming brightly, was swept up beneath a delicate veil.
Her face, dazzlingly beautiful, shimmered before his eyes.
“…You’re really becoming my wife.”
It felt like he might die from lack of air. Instinctively, Nocturne covered his mouth and struggled to breathe.
Slowly, his hand slipped down to hold hers.
The chill of her hand—colder than his—messed with his heart.
This time, he knew it was truly his will.
He pressed his lips to hers. The faint breath escaping between her lips was utterly endearing.
His head spun as though it might explode.
Charlotte, you won’t remember, will you? Our first meeting, our memories.
If you ask if I’m hurt by that—I’d want to say no.
It’s just… I love you. Even that part of you.
Charlotte.
Thank you for becoming my wife.
When the long kiss finally ended, he saw Charlotte’s widened eyes.
They were so beautiful that Nocturne couldn’t help but smile brightly.
Would she be surprised if he kissed her again?
As he entertained this settled dilemma, Nocturne blinked his eyes open.
But Charlotte was nowhere to be seen—only an unfamiliar ceiling stretched above him.
From that night, something about Nocturne Aphros changed.
He would stare blankly into space, then snap out of it in a panic.
“Your Grace? What are you doing…?”
“Haa. Nothing.”
He would pour water over his face after training, only to pause when it reached his lips, letting out a sigh.
And that wasn’t all.
He suddenly insisted on changing his handwriting, agonizing over it for hours.
As a result, all the renowned calligraphers of the Empire came and went from the Grand Duke’s residence.
Nocturne slammed his pen down in frustration, staring at the paper.
Back in the dream, he’d written effortlessly—but now, it wouldn’t come out right.
He had trained his grip to keep his sword steady—but his fingers were clumsier than a child’s.
“This won’t do.”
Tsk, Nocturne clicked his tongue. This level of handwriting was nowhere near enough for a proposal letter.
Running a hand irritably through his hair, he froze mid-motion.
Did he just say proposal letter?
Forcing his stiff neck to move, Nocturne read the words he had unconsciously written.
“Hah. I must be insane. Completely out of my mind.”
The words perfectly matched the contents of the proposal letter from his dream.
And all this time—he had been practicing his handwriting to send Charlotte a proposal letter.
Nocturne roughly tousled his hair until it became disheveled.
Overwhelmed with frustration, he stormed outside.
He needed to cool his head—perhaps by swinging his sword.
“Arf… yip!”
When he came to his senses, he was in the field.
A fox—Kai—had caught his scent and was lazily approaching him. As expected, the fox didn’t greet him as enthusiastically as Charlotte.
At least it’s acknowledging me, he thought bitterly.
Its expression was aloof, as if saying, Why you and not Charlotte? or Ugh, you again.
Kai barely leaned against him out of courtesy, then promptly circled the tree where Charlotte used to come and go.
“That damn fox…”
So much for gratitude. Nocturne snorted and slumped against a nearby tree.
Unbothered, Kai kept circling the large oak tree.
But Charlotte didn’t appear. Realizing this, the fox curled up and whimpered softly.
Tsk, Nocturne clicked his tongue.
Is it really such a big deal not seeing her for a while?
Despite his irritated expression, he absentmindedly patted the fox’s head in an attempt to comfort it.
“Arf!”
…Of course, the fox snapped at him in protest.
Receiving insults despite his attempt at comfort, Nocturne leaned back against the tree and shut his eyes.
As he listened to the quiet hum of insects, the dream replayed vividly in his mind.
…Marrying the young lady might not be so bad.
The thought struck him. Naturally, he began considering a marriage with Charlotte.
For someone who had been adamant against the idea, it was an ironic shift.
Brushing aside his previous resolve, Nocturne began weighing the merits of marrying her.
Ridiculously enough, the more he thought about it, the more suitable she seemed.
After all, he wouldn’t be a good husband—he’d spend more time in the North than at home.
Having children would be impractical, and he had never even considered it.
Abandoning a wife would be disgraceful—especially one from the Emperor’s faction.
In that case, wouldn’t it make more sense to marry the daughter of the noble faction’s leader?
It would remove the pressure to marry while keeping the Emperor’s faction in check.
Above all, with a wife in the picture, no one would nag him to stay out of the North.
…She’s actually a perfect match, isn’t she?
…Maybe he shouldn’t tear up that proposal letter.
Nocturne nodded slightly, a faint smile curling on his lips.
A week passed since those troubling thoughts had taken root.
Nocturne Aphros, who usually avoided attending noble gatherings, made an exception today.
The reason?
The event was hosted by Count Waynes—a key figure in the neutral faction.
While the count wasn’t a major power himself, pulling him into an alliance would tip the scales of political influence significantly. Attending the soirée was a necessity.
“The Duke of Dapsine will probably show up as well.”
No matter how reclusive the man was, surely he wouldn’t skip a gathering this important.
But as the saying goes—expectations only set you up for disappointment.
Duke Dapsine, as usual, sent someone else in his place.
That person was none other than Charlotte Dapsine herself.
The moment Nocturne laid eyes on her entering the ballroom, his breath caught in his throat.
Charlotte, who usually dressed plainly, was utterly transformed.
Even during their first meeting, she hadn’t worn anything this bold.
Their gazes met—an unexpected collision that sent heat crawling up his neck.
But that was only until…
“Why is everyone staring at me like idiots? Why don’t you go back to whispering behind my back like usual? Seriously, does no one have any backbone?”
Her sharp words sliced through the hum of conversation, turning the previously enchanted atmosphere cold.
“Hmph, I wonder where the young master of the Illaire family is staring. I’d prefer if he lifted his gaze instead of gawking like a fool. If he annoys me any further, I might just cripple him myself.”
“My, pretending to be innocent now? How absurd. Ah! That kind of behavior must be why you’re part of the Emperor’s faction.”
“Etiquette? When did I ever break etiquette? And if anyone should be angry, it’s me—Charlotte Dapsine, got it? Ugh!”
Her venomous tongue sent a chill down Nocturne’s spine.
What in the world…
He was bewildered.
The Charlotte he knew and the one standing before him couldn’t have been more different.
Yet, strangely enough, the other nobles didn’t seem surprised by her behavior. If anything, they reacted as if this was business as usual.
…Is this her true self?
It couldn’t be.
And yet, this unruly behavior matched perfectly with the rumors and gossip he had heard about her.
His rational mind urged him to believe what he was seeing—to accept this sharp-tongued, abrasive woman as the real Charlotte Dapsine.
But for some reason…
…Why do I not want to believe it?
The thought gnawed at him.
Instead of focusing on his original goal of speaking with Count Waynes, Nocturne found himself unable to tear his gaze away from Charlotte.
And that was when an unwelcome figure approached her.
Nocturne instantly recognized him.
Adrian Verche.
The second-in-command of the noble faction.
Though officially aligned with the Duke, Adrian was the sort who preferred to work in the shadows—scheming and manipulating like a rat behind closed doors.
I don’t like this.
Especially the way he so casually closed the distance between himself and Charlotte.
That nonchalant familiarity irritated Nocturne far more than he cared to admit.
