LUW 51

Chapter 51

The marriage candidates personally selected by the Emperor were all daughters of prestigious noble families.

It wasn’t unusual for noble families to rush into marriage arrangements ahead of significant events like wars or major policy shifts.

What made this different was that the Emperor himself had stepped in to arrange the marriage.

Under normal circumstances, such an arrangement would be considered an honor for any family.

But something about this engagement felt… off.

“…This may be presumptuous to say, but most of the young ladies on the selection list are either frail or currently convalescing at their estates due to illness,” Honic reported hesitantly.

Pierre flipped through the documents without much reaction.

“One of them is even a divorcée—she was previously married but divorced.”

“Is that so.”

“It is so. Surely, Your Excellency understands what this implies.”

Just as Honic said, Pierre fully understood the implications of the list.

The Emperor did not want Pierre to have children.

To be precise, the Emperor didn’t want anyone of the Cardinand Ducal House’s bloodline anywhere near the imperial family.

The Duchy held the highest rank in the empire after the Emperor himself.

Which meant—if something were to happen to the Emperor—Pierre would be the most likely successor.

The current Emperor didn’t want that.

The reason was obvious: his young Crown Prince.

Pierre, and any child he might have, could someday become a threat to the still-too-young heir.

‘He’s trying to eliminate even the possibility of such a threat.’

It was the Emperor’s desperate ploy.

A disgusting plea for Pierre’s loyalty.

“Your Excellency.”

Honic’s voice broke through his thoughts.

“What does it change, knowing all this?”

Pierre’s low voice made Honic flinch and bow his head.

“Don’t make a fuss over the marriage. If His Majesty wishes it, then so be it.”

Though his tone was cold, there was a trace of resignation to it.

Marriages among nobles were always about power and alliances.

Pierre knew that better than anyone.

“Pick a few from the list and report back. Preferably someone who can’t bear children.”

Honic looked surprised at the unexpected order but soon nodded quietly.

“…Understood. I will prepare a summary.”

Only after Honic left did silence fill the office once more.

In the dead quiet, only the sound of pages turning echoed faintly.

A child.

He had never wanted such a thing in the first place.

In fact, this was for the best.

He couldn’t bear to pass on this damned puppet of a life to a child of his own.

He’d always thought that way.

Never once had he doubted it.

And yet—

Suddenly, her face came to mind.

“Pierre.”

His expression hardened slightly at the phantom sound of her voice.

There was something about hearing his name from her lips that he found… pleasant.

The way she made bold movements, how she smiled without restraint, her voice that was both soft and resolute, her small frame, her strong spirit—

All of it stirred something inside him more than he had expected.

“Hah…”

Pierre leaned back in his chair and covered his face with his hand.

“This is insane.”

It was a feeling he would’ve rather resented.

Two weeks passed since Pierre left.

Winter had truly descended upon the empire, and unease continued to spread.

War with the Hakan tribe seemed all but inevitable, sending waves of fear through the noble society. Even commoners were anxious as supply routes were cut off and prices surged.

And amid all that, one piece of news reached them—

Uncle Baldir had begun supplying weapons to the imperial family.

Several weapons-related laws had been revised because of it, but Cecilia was far too distracted to care about such news.

Her thoughts were completely consumed by one rumor.

Moa, who had been anxiously hovering by her side, finally broke the silence.

“Miss… would you like something to eat?”

“No. I don’t have an appetite.”

“Then how about a snack—?”

“No, I said.”

Moa hesitated, then tried again with bright eyes.

“Oh! Before the heavy snow hits, they’re going on one last hunting trip. You’ll join, right?”

Her eyes sparkled as if to say, “You won’t be able to resist this.”

But Cecilia just kept gazing indifferently out the window.

“I’m not interested.”

Even her secret weapon had failed. Moa visibly deflated.

“Miss, what’s wrong with you? At least tell me what’s going on!”

“What do you mean?”

“What do I mean? You’ve been frowning for the past week! Like this!”

Moa mimicked her expression, scrunching her brows in frustration.

Cecilia just stared blankly out the window without replying.

Moa watched her carefully, then asked cautiously.

“Is this about the Duke?”

At that, Cecilia’s shoulder twitched.

“You’re upset about the Duchess rumors, right?”

At Moa’s words, Cecilia’s brow creased sharply.

The irritation she had been barely suppressing suddenly boiled over.

“It’s not like that. Who cares if he gets married or not?”

Despite her words, she abruptly stood up.

“Where are you going? You’re supposed to meet with the Lord soon!”

“I need to move around. I’m feeling stifled.”

As she stormed out the door, Moa let out a long sigh.

She walked over to the window where Cecilia had stood and looked in the same direction.

The training field.

Leo was there.

“She’s going to Leo again…”

Moa muttered quietly.

Cecilia might not realize it herself, but whenever she was troubled, she always sought Leo out for a sparring match.

Afterward, she would slowly open up to him.

“Poor Leo. If it were me, I’d hate hearing about my crush’s love life.”

Moa shook her head, cleaned up the teacups, and quietly left the room.

“Leo, are you done training?”

Leo, who had been drinking water, looked up slightly.

“Yes.”

“Then spar with me for a bit. I haven’t moved in days—I’m going stir-crazy.”

She showed up with a wooden sword in hand. Leo glanced at her from the corner of his eye.

Behind her red hair, he glimpsed a dull, sunken gaze—but Cecilia didn’t notice.

He turned his head away and said bluntly,

“Sparring with you isn’t even a warm-up. I’ll pass.”

“Oh? So someone’s gotten cocky. I’ve just been going easy on you, you know?”

“Then say that after you’ve beaten me at least once.”

“Well, I will win today.”

Instead of replying, Leo let out a long sigh and got up. He casually grabbed the wooden sword next to him and jerked his chin.

“Come on.”

His half-hearted stance made Cecilia bristle.

She charged at him like she was venting her frustration.

Thwack! Thwack!

The dull sound of wooden swords clashing echoed through the training field.

Some mercenaries passing by chuckled.

“Haven’t seen that in a while.”

“Yeah. It finally feels normal again.”

Not long after that comment, the match was decided.

Clang!

With a short cry, Cecilia’s wooden sword went flying.

“See? Told you it’s pointless.”

“That’s only because the sword is terrible! If it were a real sword, I’d have won!”

“And you’d be hurt if it were a real sword.”

Leo slung his sword over his shoulder and replied indifferently.

Still fuming, Cecilia picked up the discarded sword.

Leo sat down and reached for his water again, then suddenly spoke.

“Is that Duke really bothering you that much?”

Cecilia paused.

She stood with a sullen face, then eventually let out a sigh and slumped down beside him.

“…It’s not like that. Why does everyone keep saying that?”

“With that scowl on your face, who wouldn’t notice? Even Hestik—Hestik—asked if something was wrong.”

Yikes. If even Hestik noticed, then so did every passing dog.

Cecilia hugged her knees and tapped her toes together.

“It’s not like I have any special feelings. I’m just… annoyed.”

That day, he had gone on and on about her being some goddess, buttering her up with sweet words.

And now, word had spread about him getting a Duchess.

It was irritating.

That’s all it was.

And yet, Cecilia buried her face in her knees, feeling unreasonably upset.

No—if she was being honest, she knew.

She and he were only connected out of necessity.

Their circumstances, duties, and positions were completely different—there was no room for feelings.

But even so, the news of his engagement—delivered so quickly and so indifferently—hurt far more than she had expected.

It wasn’t just because he was getting married.

It wasn’t just because of the way he walked away that day, without a second thought.

It was because—

We really were nothing to each other, weren’t we.

That painfully clear truth struck her with force.

A connection only she had given meaning to.

Feelings only she had allowed to grow.

Now, she had no choice but to face the reality that it was all a one-sided illusion.

From the beginning, and even now—not for a single moment…

Had he ever truly held her in his heart.

And that realization…

Was unbearably heartbreaking.