Chapter 18
Cerulean bowed his head and replied.
“That’s what I intend to do.”
“The wedding hall…”
The Duke turned his gaze toward me as he spoke. I seized the moment and smiled brightly.
“I don’t need anything fancy. Just taking our vows at the cathedral will be enough!”
See? I’m not a demanding daughter-in-law — I’m the kind who goes along with everything, a good one!
But even as I tried to radiate that energy with my whole body, the Duke’s face suddenly twisted in displeasure. He turned his head sharply and muttered,
“…It shouldn’t be such a simple affair.”
“Yes, of course.”
I pouted a little at that.
It’s not like this is a marriage of love anyway.
That was what I thought, but before I could say anything, the Duke was already striding ahead. I had no choice but to follow quickly behind him and Cerulean toward the mansion.
“Welcome to the ducal residence.”
As the doors opened, rows of servants standing in the wide hall all bowed at once.
For a moment, I felt like a princess entering her royal palace and walked in lightly, enjoying the illusion. And at the end of the line of servants…
Whoa, how adorable!
My gaze was immediately caught by a small child dressed in a vest with intricate patterns — like a little teddy bear.
How can a kid look that cute?!
Chubby, pinchable cheeks, round blue eyes like glass beads, soft golden curls like spun yarn, and a plump, fair little body — he really did look like a walking stuffed bear.
Goodness… I just want to hug him once.
He had the exact kind of face that stole the heart of anyone who loved cute things like I did.
Who in the world is that child?
The boy seemed nervous, biting his lip — which only made his cheeks puff up adorably. When our eyes met, his round eyes widened in surprise. I was about to greet him when—
Click, clack.
A woman with elegantly coiled golden hair walked down the hallway, her heels tapping gracefully against the floor.
It was none other than Princess Vanerinne.
Wait… what’s with that expression?
I knew two faces of Vanerinne: the gentle angelic smile and the tearful, sorrowful one with her eyes cast down.
When she appeared, her expression had clearly been the latter — but then, all of a sudden, it faltered.
She’s completely thrown off.
Her perfect expression cracked for an instant as her eyes met the Duke’s. She quickly lowered her gaze and said,
“Your Grace, you were here first.”
“Indeed.”
“…”
The Duke’s curt reply seemed to rob even the eloquent Vanerinne of words. I blinked.
What on earth is going on here?
It was clear that something hadn’t gone according to her plans. My journalist’s instincts tingled. Holding my breath, I focused on her expression.
Then, the Duke spoke again, his tone indifferent.
“I told you this wasn’t a matter that concerned you.”
Vanerinne smiled softly, replying,
“Even so, how could the lady of the house stay uninvolved in a family affair?”
“I don’t see why you must meddle in everything.”
Even before her serene smile, the Duke remained utterly unmoved. I gaped — and then realized what was happening.
Ah, so he told her she didn’t need to attend this meal!
Vanerinne must have come out earlier, planning to greet us and act the part of a dutiful, pitiful wife who had been left out of the occasion.
But she didn’t expect the Duke to already be here.
What an unexpected counterattack — accidental or not!
I chuckled inwardly and glanced at the Duke, my unexpected ally in this. Just like Cerulean had said — he really didn’t take sides. The Duke looked my way with his usual, stern expression.
“Now that introductions are over, I’ll take my leave.”
What? He invited me to dinner — and now he’s just leaving?
Weren’t you supposed to be interested in me?!
Baffled, I turned to Cerulean, who simply nodded slightly, as if to say this is normal for him.
“Then, you may dine on your own.”
He was about to turn away when Vanerinne stopped him.
“I know you’re busy, Your Grace, but please stay for a meal. It could be the first… and the last.”
The first and the last? That was quite the loaded statement.
What kind of trap is she laying this time?
As I narrowed my eyes, the little teddy bear of a boy ran toward Vanerinne.
“Mother!”
I gasped.
Wait — that adorable child is Princess Vanerinne’s son?!
So this was the boy competing with Cerulean for the title?
But who does he even take after? He doesn’t look like either the Duke or the Duchess!
Truly a marvel of genetics.
As I was silently marveling, Vanerinne subtly avoided the child’s reaching hand. Her voice was gentle but sharp.
“Were you polite to our guest while Mother was away, Charles?”
“I… um…”
The color drained from the boy’s face, and Vanerinne’s expression turned frosty.
“Don’t tell me you just stood there and said nothing?”
“I… I…”
He probably did.
But come on — he’s just a child! How could he possibly entertain guests? Just standing still so properly is impressive enough.
It wasn’t that the boy was shy or lacking; he was simply under intense pressure from Vanerinne’s strict parenting.
I couldn’t help but intervene — his anxious face was just too pitiful.
“Thank you for having me, Duchess.”
Vanerinne’s cold gaze shifted to me. Even though I hadn’t said anything wrong, facing her made my shoulders tense up. Then she smiled gracefully.
“Did you exchange greetings?”
The boy straightened his back like a soldier and spoke politely.
“I—I am Charles Luke. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“I’m Edel Azhian. It’s nice to meet you too, young master.”
He looked so adorable as he greeted me that I couldn’t help but smile from ear to ear. My grin seemed to fluster him — his cheeks turned pink.
He’s embarrassed. So cute.
I giggled softly, and Cerulean leaned closer to whisper.
“Why are you smiling like that?”
“I just like children.”
“Children?”
“Isn’t the young master adorable? He’s your little brother, after all.”
“I suppose so.”
Cerulean’s indifferent tone made it sound as if the concept of adorableness itself was foreign to him.
Well, I suppose from his perspective, Charles is more of a rival who might take everything away from him.
That might make things awkward — but that doesn’t mean you stop giving affection to a child who deserves it.
When I turned my head, pouting slightly, the Duke was staring at me with that same frigid expression.
His navy-blue eyes reminded me of a bleak winter, and I quickly shut my mouth.
So coldness must run in this family.
That a man like him had even bothered to greet me in person earlier now seemed like a miracle. And he was exactly like Cerulean — cold, but always courteous.
They never spoke kindly, yet never outright rejected, either.
I glanced toward the Duke again — or more precisely, at the badge gleaming on his chest.
The symbol of a Roar Hunter.
Could it be coincidence that these two men are so alike? Or are all Roar Hunters the same?
I didn’t have an answer, but it was a thought worth pondering.
Then the Duke spoke.
“Hmm… Let’s move to the drawing room. I don’t have much time.”
Inside the dining hall adjoining the drawing room, the Duke’s authority could be felt in every detail. Beneath a magnificent chandelier stretched a table long enough to seat twenty people comfortably.
Everything was immaculate — the dishes and cutlery perfectly set.
Only one thing was off: the servants looked visibly tense as they prepared the meal.
“…?”
I blinked in confusion, and Cerulean leaned close to whisper,
“His Grace has never dined with the household before.”
“Never? Not even once?”
“No.”
I watched the Duke’s back as he walked to the head of the table, utterly unconcerned by the awkward atmosphere.
He looked so composed that if not for the servants flinching each time he neared, you wouldn’t even realize this was an exceptional event.
A maid cautiously asked Vanerinne,
“Madam, where shall you sit?”
“…Why, next to His Grace, of course.”
“Well, um…”
The maid’s eyes darted nervously between Vanerinne and Cerulean, and I instantly understood.
So Cerulean hasn’t been eating here either!
Since the Duke never joined meals, the seat of honor naturally went to the Duchess.
But now that he’s here, no one knows who sits where.
Vanerinne was supposed to sit with her son on one side, and Cerulean and I on the other.
But who gets the second seat — Vanerinne or Cerulean?
In noble etiquette, not all seats opposite the head are equal — the right-hand seat is higher in rank than the left.
Ah, so this is what they call a power struggle.
Neither Vanerinne, with her chin lifted high, nor Cerulean, calm but firm, showed any sign of backing down.
It was a scene I’d usually just observe as a reporter — but being in it was surprisingly thrilling.
See? A round table would solve all this.
Rectangular tables are just breeding grounds for hierarchy.
But the tension was broken as abruptly as it had begun. The Duke’s dry voice cut through the silence.
“You take the second seat, Cerulean.”
Everyone stiffened, but no one dared object. The servants immediately began setting the table.
In that moment, I understood exactly who held real power in this house.
Ah. The Duke is absolutely in control here.
Cerulean gently pulled me toward a seat.
“Please sit, Edel.”
“Ah, yes.”
In the end, Cerulean sat across from Vanerinne, and I found myself across from little Charles. Staring down at my white plate, I felt my heart thump uneasily.
But surely, Vanerinne won’t just accept that demotion quietly…
Indeed, as soon as she sat, she spoke up smoothly.
“Your Grace, although I may not have given birth to Lord Cerulean, I truly love him as if he were my own son.”
