5. I Will Take You as My Bride
Kyla, dressed exquisitely, descended to the parlor alongside her maid. The grand mansion had only a few spaces of note: the parlor for receiving guests, and the private chambers of Joanna and the Baron. Normally, this parlor served as the meeting room for arranged introductions, yet Kyla’s steps toward it felt unbearably heavy, weighed down by fear.
Knock, knock.
“Miss Kyla, she’s here,” the maid announced, knocking twice before opening the door. Her hands, neatly folded, glistened with sweat from nerves. Through the narrow gap of the opened door, the two men who had come to fetch her finally came into view. Kyla’s gaze was immediately drawn to the man with black hair. She could hardly believe her eyes. It was him—the Archduke Theodor, who had looked down at her so coldly in the square just yesterday.
Why, in the world, is His Highness here…?
Her eyes widened, pupils dilating, and the sunlight caught in her blue eyes, making them shimmer like ice.
“Hmph,”
A cough from the Baron startled Kyla back to the present. She gathered herself and, with all the proper decorum, bowed to the Archduke. Her hands, clutching the hem of her gown, trembled ever so slightly.
“Y-Your Highness,” she stammered. “I—I pay my respects to you.”
“Delightful to see you again, young lady,” he replied, expressionless.
“Please, sit, Kyla,” Joanna said, rising to seat Kyla beside her. She hid her smile behind a fan, feigning cultured composure.
“Oh my, Kyla is so shy,” Joanna cooed. “She’s grown up knowing nothing of men.”
“That appears to be the case,” Theodor said flatly, taking a sip of tea. His voice was cold and dry, devoid of warmth or cheer. Kyla could not fathom why he was here. Rumors swirled in her mind—the Archduke, famously impervious to women’s charms, indifferent to royal commands, and dismissive of all marriage proposals. One even whispered that his matrimonial status was the Emperor’s personal headache.
What is going on? Why is His Highness here…?
Her head spun. She lifted her gaze just enough to look at him, then quickly bowed again.
“So… tell me, what brings our Kyla here…” Joanna ventured, her voice tinged with expectation.
“I shall take her,” the Archduke said.
Only Kyla looked shocked. Could it be that yesterday’s impossible plan had succeeded?
“Take her… what do you mean exactly?”
Joanna, already knowing, asked again, her tone deliberately probing.
“I mean to take her as my bride.”
The cold finality of his words hung like a decree, a royal decision none could contest. Joanna’s heart leapt; her plan had worked. Her certainty reflected in her rising voice.
“Oh, Your Highness! Kyla is an unworthy daughter… it is almost shameful to send her to you,” Joanna exclaimed, seizing the moment.
Baron Grenville, catching the cue, added, “Yes… even if we wished to, we have no funds for a wedding. She is utterly unfit to be Your Highness’s bride. Truly, what are we to do…”
“A wedding without funds? How unfortunate. Ian,” Theodor said, gesturing to the man beside him. Ian quietly retrieved a leather case and placed it on the table.
“Consider this your bridal dowry,” Theodor declared.
Joanna and the Baron eagerly opened it. Inside lay a rare blue diamond, the size of a fist, dazzling in the sunlight.
“This alone could buy several estates,” Joanna thought greedily, hiding her delight behind a mask of concern.
“How can we possibly prepare her as a proper bride for Your Highness with this? Such treasures are hard to dispose of and would take time…” she lamented.
Theodor’s brow twitched. Joanna’s words were brazen. He gestured again to Ian, who produced a heavy pouch of gold coins, dropping it onto the table with a solid thud. Joanna’s face lit up instantly.
“Oh! There was no need to provide so much! With this dowry, we shall prepare Kyla beautifully!”
Theodor’s gaze shifted to Kyla, who flinched in surprise.
“Your lip is split. Were you struck?”
The blunt remark froze Joanna and the Baron, their smiles vanishing.
“Struck? That has nothing to do with us! How dare you speak so rudely!”
“Rude… you dare say that to a royal? How embarrassing for me,” he said, smirking coldly. The room chilled instantly. Fear etched itself onto Joanna and the Baron’s faces; they could only tremble in silence.
“Roll up your sleeve, Kyla,” Theodor commanded, using her first name instead of the formal title.
“Eh?”
“Your arm. Roll it up.”
Kyla glanced nervously between Joanna and Theodor. When she hesitated, Theodor signaled Ian.
“Excuse me, miss,” Ian said politely as he approached. Kyla flinched instinctively.
“Do not worry. I will not harm you.”
Hesitant, she slowly raised her sleeve. On her pale arm bloomed bruises of red and blue. Silence descended over the room. Kyla’s face burned—shame from the blows, or from exposing her arm to a stranger, she could not tell.
“Some are old, some new. So that’s why you wore long sleeves in this heat,” Theodor remarked.
“Y-Your Highness! That’s a misunderstanding! Kyla… she merely fell…”
“Falling doesn’t cause bruises like these. You dare deceive me? Perhaps I should cut the throat from which lies spill.”
With a metallic hiss, Theodor’s blade touched Joanna’s nape.
“You think you can lie to royalty and live?”
Joanna turned ghostly pale, unable to breathe.
“P-Please, Your Highness… forgive us…”
“There is nothing to prepare. I will take Kyla now. Do not appear before me again,” Theodor said in a low, threatening tone.
“Eh?”
“Follow me, miss,” Ian said politely. Kyla froze, unsure what to do. Theodor sheathed his sword and approached her.
“Go. There is no need to linger here,” he said, his hand gripping her wrist. Cold to the touch, yet strangely warm.
“Don’t worry,” he said softly. For the first time, Kyla moved, leaving that hellish mansion behind without looking back.
