Episode 16
Today, Asha wore the most splendid dress of her life.
Her makeup was soft and subtle, her hair styled into gentle curls.
Once all the preparations were done, she felt her mood lift slightly.
Escorted by Jerold, she climbed into the carriage.
‘Since I’m going anyway, I’ll just quietly look around, eat something tasty, and come back slowly.’
Meanwhile, Jerold found his future sister-in-law, Lady Asha of the Herman family, thoroughly unsatisfactory.
His older brother was the most perfect man in the world.
And yet, this woman didn’t seem to match him at all.
She wasn’t from a particularly prestigious family, nor was she intelligent or beautiful enough to make up for it.
Not a single outstanding quality.
If he had to name one thing—it was her rarity.
The one and only Saint who could see the future.
At first glance, one might assume that a woman who could foresee the future would be the most sought-after person in the empire, with countless people fighting to possess her.
But reality was far from that.
The Saint could see the future—but she could never share it with anyone.
The very moment she tried to reveal it, she would become a fool—her mind wiped clean.
It didn’t matter whether she spoke or wrote; the result was the same.
As though there truly existed some divine law declaring that the future must remain secret.
Of course, if she were strong enough, she might be able to change the future on her own.
But the world was not so lenient.
If there were a woman who knew the future and acted accordingly, yet shared her plans and results with no one—
would people admire her?
No.
They would fear her.
They would restrain her, make sure she could do nothing.
Even her own husband, should she have one.
In ancient times, Saints were said to have been honored in temples and wielded great influence.
But that was long gone.
Nowadays, people merely acknowledged that the Saint’s powers still existed within the temple—nothing more.
Apart from her rarity, no one saw much use in her.
Lady Asha was no exception.
She had entered the marriage market with an absurdly high price tag, but her oracle was soon to be announced.
Once that happened—just a month later—her value would plummet, and she’d be lucky to fetch even a quarter of the dowry originally offered.
If only his brother hadn’t been struck by that sudden possessive desire.
To make matters worse, until recently, his brother had been in talks of marriage with Lady Cecilia Eart.
Lady Cecilia Eart—
A name known throughout the empire. Refined, intelligent, beautiful, and dignified.
The very model of an ideal noblewoman.
Not only was she highly educated, she was graceful by birth, charismatic, and possessed a natural authority.
She would have made a perfect Empress.
“……”
Jerold glanced quietly at the small woman sitting across from him—Asha.
Her delicate frame looked so fragile it might break at a touch, her round features and gentle eyes making her seem timid to the core.
Frankly, he worried whether she’d even survive palace life, let alone adapt to it.
Historically speaking, kind and docile empresses never met good ends.
Better to be ruthless than gentle.
He didn’t like her. Not one bit.
But still—
since his flawless brother had chosen her, he would have to accept her as his sister-in-law.
Jerold decided to test just how meek this woman really was.
After all, even gentleness came in degrees.
If she truly was as softhearted and fragile as she appeared, he’d have to assign Diona to her side for constant protection.
Having settled his thoughts, Jerold finally spoke.
“If you don’t mind, there’s something I’d like to ask.”
Asha was a little surprised.
He had been so curt and silent until now that she hadn’t expected him to speak first.
Still, she nodded politely.
“Yes, please go ahead.”
Then the man said—
“Do you believe you’re a good match for my brother?”
Asha froze.
She’d never really thought about whether they matched or not—but if she had to choose, it would probably be no.
Jerold continued his questioning with a calm, unaffected tone.
“To be frank, there was another family our house was considering for the engagement—a noble line that has never once lost its prestige throughout its long history. The young lady of that marquisate was exceptionally educated. I don’t mean to offend, but whoever marries my brother will one day become Empress. She’ll have to command countless palace attendants and deal with noblewomen who wear masks of gentility. Do you think you can bear such a role?”
His words were polite, but the meaning was clear.
He had been discussing marriage with an elite noblewoman of impeccable pedigree—and then you came along and interfered. Do you think you’re up for it?
Asha blinked.
How can someone be that effortlessly rude?
No, wait—
Did he just say… I’m marrying his brother?
She didn’t even know where to begin correcting him.
But then, suddenly, she realized something.
This was that scene—
the classic situation where a highborn man’s relative confronts the heroine from a lesser family.
In other words—
“Leave my son alone!”
Except in this case, it was the “Leave my brother alone!” version.
But why on earth was this cliché unfolding right now?
…Ah.
Was it because when she first met Alesto, she’d said her dream was to be captured and loved by a handsome man?
Or because Alesto himself seemed to see her as a romantic partner?
True, they had agreed to “date,” though things now seemed rather… broken.
Wait. No. Not broken.
Technically, neither of them had said the words “let’s break up.”
She still occupied the Almond Chamber, after all.
So didn’t that mean they were… still together?
Oh?
Come to think of it, yes—they were still dating.
And wasn’t the reason he’d locked her up basically jealousy?
And hadn’t he extended her confinement range after she cried?
This is starting to sound like…
the budding romance of a future tyrant who’s truly in love with me?!
Of course, judging by his brother’s expression, he didn’t believe that one bit.
Alright. Then what should she do now?
The typical playbook in this situation would be to apologize meekly but insist she couldn’t leave the man she loved—to look heartbreakingly sincere.
And later, she could “accidentally” let Alesto hear about this conversation, pretending it was a slip of the tongue.
Grinding her teeth inwardly at Jerold—You messed with the wrong person—Asha lowered her gaze with the most pitiful expression she could muster.
“I’m sorry.”
Then, just as she was about to launch into the “But I love him…” part—
“You mustn’t make that kind of wounded expression,” Jerold said.
“In the imperial palace, people don’t help the weak—they tear out their throats. In moments like this, you should instead say, ‘My lord pursued me first, so go talk to him about it. He’ll take responsibility for everything.’ That’s the correct answer.”
Asha blinked wide-eyed.
Huh? What?
Was he telling her to leave him or keep him?
As she blinked in confusion, Jerold inwardly burned with frustration.
His brother might have kept the marriage contract a secret, but Asha was still his official lover—
a relationship established with marriage in mind.
Yet no matter how docile she was—
after being compared to another woman and insulted to her face, all she could say was “I’m sorry”?
For a moment, her dazed response almost made him pity her. But Jerold quickly collected himself.
“In the palace, there will be very little you can do on your own. You have no strong family backing, nor have you achieved anything in art or society. Ah—don’t get me wrong, I consider a woman’s beauty to be a great talent as well. A peerless beauty who can shake the world is a weapon in herself. But you… well, you’re not that level, are you? You’ll have to rely entirely on my brother—so use that wisely.”
Jerold hadn’t expected Lady Asha to slap him or anything.
But still—
even the gentlest woman would at least glare at him, or demand that the carriage stop after such an insult.
Yet this woman—
she just blinked her cow-like eyes and opened her lips slightly, as if she wanted to speak but couldn’t.
Fine.
Then say something. Anything.
“If you have something to say,” Jerold prompted, “go ahead.”
