~Chapter 78~
Camilla’s eyes went wide.
“First, we’ll use the family council to make it clear that this is as urgent as a wartime situation.”
This meant the Empress Dowager was actively reaching her claws toward the emperor, Dane whispered.
“Once the treachery is undeniable, the question becomes whether we fight or not. That’s what matters most.”
Dane sneered at the thought that his father wouldn’t fight.
“With the Empress’ blade already threatening our family, even endangering mother, we don’t need a head of the Grand Duke’s family who won’t stand and fight.”
He spoke of the Lionel family on the left and the Dunbarton family on the right—if these heads supported him, Dane would secure the family ring.
“Marriage is only considered important because it’s the most basic step to show a child has become an adult.”
Dane ran his fingers through Camilla’s hair, speaking softly.
“Marriage might give us an advantage, but it’s fine. Now that the treachery is clear, my claim will outweigh any hesitation from my father who wants to avoid a clash with the Empress.”
In that moment, Camilla realized:
‘This is no longer just my personal revenge.’
“Dane, if it weren’t for me being involved, would you have fought?”
“The family doesn’t matter. The nation cannot be explained without you.”
Camilla’s lips parted in surprise at Dane’s straightforward words.
“Then another question—As the Grand Duke of Escalus, are Baron Mowin and the Empress Dowager truly unforgivable?”
Dane smiled like a boy, yet no longer was he the hurt child of the past. His face bore the steel of a true statesman.
“Yes… they are unforgivable. And the men I’ve raised under me won’t forgive them either. That’s who they are.”
Whether as the shield guarding Escalus or as a man, forgiveness was impossible. Dane’s gaze met hers, recalling the moment she had asked him to become her sharpest sword.
Finally, he knelt on one knee and asked:
“Will you fight alongside me?”
Her heart thudded in response. This was no longer a fight for her alone.
The cause of war and the royal struggle for power had begun. Five years ago, they would have tried to prevent it. But the unprepared boy and girl of the past were gone.
Camilla smiled, resolute:
“…It may be a long and grueling fight.”
“If you’re with me, it’ll be grueling in name only.”
“Ha, like a waltz?”
“No. It’s still a fight. But afterward, we’ll look forward to a victory waltz at the celebration. So please… fight with me.”
Camilla realized: if she didn’t stand by him now, no excuse could save her from a life unlived. She had to grasp the vivid present, not the miserable past.
“Dane.”
In the past, she had given up, thinking of the harm the Empress could bring to the Grand Duke family. But now, as he reached for her hand first, Camilla finally smiled.
“You’ll regret it… but by then, it’ll be too late.”
She grasped his hand. Dane smiled as if he already held the world.
“I hope you’ll make me regret it. Didn’t I say so?”
He pressed his lips to the back of her hand.
“If you go to hell, I’ll be there beside you.”
Raising his head, he smiled, unable to hold back the surge of emotion. They sank to the ground together, Camilla wrapping him in a fierce embrace.
Tears threatened, but these were not tears of misery or sorrow. Dane had always given her emotions she didn’t even know existed. She realized: tears were not only for sadness, smiles not only for hiding feelings. Simply sharing a direction could bring unimagined joy.
“Dane.”
She finally gave the feeling a name.
“I love you.”
She wanted to see his face, and met his wide blue eyes staring at her in return. She giggled at the foolish expression, then instinctively hugged and kissed him—her first attempt at taking the initiative.
Just as she tried to pull away, Dane’s hand held her cheek.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
Their lips met again, soft but urgent, and the sensation of sweetness, breathlessness, and overwhelming delight struck her entire body.
Dane pulled back only to kiss her forehead, cheeks, and nape of the neck, holding her as if to crush her in his arms. In that perfect embrace, she found the courage to ask:
“Shall we get married?”
And she knew, without even seeing, that Dane’s face had gone completely daft.
The marriage Camilla proposed was meant to give Dane the upper hand in the upcoming family council.
The only thing needed for him to solidify his position as head was a marriage certificate.
“Let’s do it tonight.”
There was no need for a grand wedding—just a witness and the paperwork to formalize the union.
“Good heavens… Lady Camilla! Isn’t this way too bleak?!”
Sonia let out a small scream upon hearing the plan.
“Dane agreed, though.”
Sonia’s face went pale, pleading:
“At least have a simple ceremony, please!”
Dane faced the same awkward situation.
“…What? A marriage vow?”
Before the ceremony, Dane had visited Lunellia to replace the sleep incense. She was unusually lucid, accepting that she’d been poisoned. Then Dane explained the simple wedding plan, and Lunellia grabbed his neck, scolding him for trying such a huge thing without her consent.
Still, she agreed to act as the bride’s witness if they held even a tiny ceremony.
Under Lunellia and Sonia’s cooperation, a simple secret wedding took place.
“Once everything is done, I promise a grand wedding.”
“No need,” Camilla replied.
To her, the ceremony itself held no significance. Swearing to each other and sharing a kiss, even in a small chapel like Nina’s, was enough.
“You are the witness, Ian.”
“Wait, wait, wait! I’m honored, but… why me?!”
Viscount Ian, summoned as a witness, protested softly.
“Sadly, Nina has left us,” Camilla said, regretful that her dear friend couldn’t stand as witness.
“Hey, Grand Duke! Dane, you’re just upset I proposed to Lady Camilla, right?!”
Having helped Nina escape, Ian was near the Grand Duke’s residence. Dane dragged him in as the groom’s witness.
“You know your place well.”
“Really?! And why here?! Am I even allowed to be here?”
The Escalus family cemetery had been prepared by Sonia: white cloth and lace over the lawn, candle holders set—but the place was eerie.
“It’s our favorite place. A small wedding here seemed fitting.”
“There’s also the cross for God. Seems fine, doesn’t it?”
Ian murmured, hesitant.
“You two really are a perfect match.”
“Indeed,” a lady scoffed, tongue-clicking.
Two unintended witnesses were present: Sonia and, supported by Sonia, the Grand Duchess Lunellia. Even for an informal ceremony, Lunellia insisted she would preside. No one could overrule her, and thus she officiated the vows.
