Chapter 4
On another day, Schniela watched her parents.
Although the funeral had been simplified because of the cremation, it still lasted a full week. Visitors came every day to pay their respects.
And for that entire week, her parents cried without stopping.
She had thought her life was so short that it would leave barely a trace. She had believed herself to be a foolish daughter who could not even outlive her parents and left behind nothing but pain.
Yet her parents mourned her with all their hearts.
Every time she saw it, it felt as if a sharp blade were carving into her chest.
Whenever they wept, Schniela swallowed down the sorrow that rose inside her.
[Mom, Dad. Thank you for grieving for me. But don’t cry too much, okay?]
Instead, she quietly whispered words of comfort beside them.
She did not cry with them because she knew too well that the parents who loved her would rather see her happy than see her mourn her own death.
[You know, I’ve become a ghost and I’m wandering all over the house. I’m doing better than you’d think!]
So she chose to speak brightly about her “daily life.”
Of course, her parents could not hear the voice of their ghostly daughter. Still, she desperately hoped that somehow her feelings would reach them.
It was on the eighth day after her death that her parents finally began to compose themselves.
The marchioness suddenly suggested that they take a walk together in the garden.
“My dear, your face is a mess. You were a man whose only good feature was his looks. What has become of you?”
At her teasing remark, the marquess let out a faint, almost foolish laugh. It was the first smile he had shown since Schniela’s death.
Arm in arm, they walked together until the marchioness stopped at a corner of the garden.
“My dear, look at this. The white hydrangeas have bloomed so beautifully.”
A faint smile lingered on her lips. Her eyes looked as though they were gently revisiting an old memory.
“Yes. Our daughter loved hydrangeas.”
As if entranced, the marquess reached out and stroked the cluster of flowers.
The marchioness watched his back silently. Clear sorrow shimmered in her eyes like starlight. After moving her lips a few times, she finally spoke.
“My dear.”
“Yes?”
“You know… shall we grant our beautiful daughter one last wish before we send her off?”
Confusion flickered in the marquess’s watery eyes as he looked at her. A moment later, he seemed to understand what she meant and stared blankly.
“…Are you referring to the spirit wedding His Grace proposed?”
“Yes. I still remember. That child begged us so often that she wanted to get married someday.”
“….”
The marquess fell silent, his eyes filling with longing for his daughter.
“When you think about it, haven’t we granted everything she ever wanted?”
“We have.”
“But as parents, even if we fulfilled a hundred wishes, it’s the one we couldn’t grant that lingers in our hearts. That’s all.”
At her suggestion, the marquess recalled the spirit wedding he had nearly forgotten.
The day before, a magical telegram had arrived from the House of Lindenberg. It was a formal proposal bearing the Grand Duke’s seal.
The letter first expressed long condolences for their loss.
Then it moved on to a direct proposal.
<I know my words must have come as a shock. But what I said at the young lady’s funeral was sincere.
Your opinion matters most, and I have no intention of forcing my will upon you. I only ask that you consider it seriously.
I will await your reply.>
After discussing it with his wife, the marquess spent two more days in thought.
In the end, he made his decision regarding his daughter’s marriage.
He sent Isel a warp gate scroll from Salamincha to the capital, along with an invitation.
***
And so, on the eleventh day after Schniela’s death, Isel visited the Livia estate.
Schniela was stunned at his appearance. She had not expected him to prepare and arrive so quickly after receiving the invitation.
Isel was guided to an outdoor table in the garden.
Schniela looked back and forth between her father and Isel before casually perching herself on the table.
[As a noble lady, I would never have done something this improper. But being a ghost means I don’t have to worry about appearances.]
She let out a short laugh as the tea and refreshments the maid set down passed straight through her body.
Resting her chin in her hands, she observed Isel closely.
His hair was like a pitch-black night sky, and his red eyes were as beautiful as layers of summer roses blooming in the garden.
Yet his face was utterly expressionless.
She could not read at all what he was thinking when he proposed the spirit wedding.
After exchanging simple greetings with the marquess, Isel remained silent for several minutes.
At first, Schniela thought he looked like someone forced into a seat he did not want, judging by his stiff mouth.
But she soon realized she was mistaken.
The tea he had already drunk halfway. The hands beneath the table that kept clenching and unclenching. His rigid shoulders. The constant movement of his throat.
The man built like a predator was clearly nervous in front of her father.
“So, was your journey comfortable?”
The marquess broke the silence first.
“Thanks to the warp gate scroll you sent, it was.”
Without noticing, Isel had shifted to a very formal tone when speaking to the marquess.
‘Until now, they met as a duke and a marquess. But today, he has come formally to propose,’ Schniela thought.
She felt he had a very polite character.
The marquess began light conversation about the summer roses in bloom and whether the tea suited his taste.
[Father, I think you’ve chosen the wrong topics.]
Schniela interjected silently.
What interest would a man who hunts monsters in the North have in such idle talk?
She expected the conversation to falter. But surprisingly, it flowed smoothly.
Isel responded politely and appropriately.
Her father’s gaze toward him gradually softened. He seemed to be scoring him as a respectful and steady young man.
“Over the past ten days, I have given deep thought to the spirit wedding you proposed and discussed it with my wife.”
At last, the marquess addressed the main topic.
Schniela tensed. She had no idea what her father truly thought.
For two days, he had only brooded in his study without revealing his intentions.
Since she was already dead, the decision rested entirely with the head of the Livia family.
“I will tell you the conclusion first. I grant my permission.”
“I see.”
There was faint relief in Isel’s response. He clearly had hoped for this marriage as well.
But the question still lingered. Why?
Their only connection was that meeting ten years ago.
‘Could it be…?’
Had Isel fallen in love with her at first sight back then? Had he never forgotten her despite being busy fighting monsters?
“Do you know why I approved the spirit wedding?”
At the marquess’s next words, Isel’s eyes narrowed slightly in curiosity.
“Your appearance. My daughter once said she wanted to marry a tall, well-built, handsome man.”
[Ahhh!]
Schniela screamed in embarrassment.
[Why would you say that in front of him, Father?!]
She had once confided small, girlish conversations to her father because of their close relationship. For the first time in her life—no, only after becoming a ghost—she regretted it.
Her dignity was completely gone. What must Isel think of her now?
Unaware of his daughter’s mortification, the marquess calmly continued.
“My wife and I fell in love at first sight when we met through a family introduction.”
Schniela already knew that story. As a child, she had found it absurd that they proudly claimed to have married for looks.
“And in all our years together, we have never had a serious fight. Just seeing each other’s faces was enough to calm any anger.”
The marquess continued speaking, his eyes burning intensely—almost with madness.
