OFR 05

5. I Will Accept Your Proposal

Ian was debating whether he even needed to hear Edna’s answer. It would be a refusal anyway, wouldn’t it? Maybe it wasn’t too late to pretend none of this had ever happened and just go back.

He should have stopped the moment he noticed the head maid’s strange expression. He couldn’t wear old clothes, so he’d layered on what he thought looked decent—but even to his own eyes, the result was ridiculous. Still, Henry insisted it was the latest trend. Ian knew nothing about fashion or accessories, so he had no choice but to trust him.

Only now did it hit him: Henry was nothing but a brainy, narrow-minded bookworm. The realization came too late.

When Edna finished greeting them and looked at him with an expression that seemed to ask what was going on, Ian’s face flushed red all over again. To come here like this to propose marriage—he wanted to crawl into a mouse hole. He almost swore out loud when Countess Katrina introduced him as the Duke.

Damn Henry!

“Ah, well, Duke Ian sent you a marriage proposal a while ago, but we’ve had so much to deal with lately,” Katrina began, her voice trailing off. “So I completely lost track of things…”

Her face turned somber for a brief moment.

“My belated condolences,” Ian said politely.

Katrina’s face brightened a little. “Thank you, Your Grace. He’s in a better place now. Ah! And that’s why I forgot to tell you about this, my dear. I’m so sorry.”

Edna’s eyes widened. Ian looked at her, his mind already racing. Perhaps he needed to replace his aide. Henry had graduated top of his class from the Academy, but maybe the standards had fallen drastically since Ian’s own graduation. The clothes, the faulty background research—nothing matched the reports.

The “rough and ugly lady” he’d heard about was nowhere to be seen. With her long golden hair cascading down, Edna wasn’t a striking beauty, but the calm glow in her blue eyes was captivating. The graceful line of her lips and her finely shaped nose were enough to draw attention. When her eyes met his, Ian quickly averted his gaze, pretending to look down at his teacup.

Katrina walked to her desk, rummaged through a pile of papers, and handed one sheet to Edna—it was the proposal Ian had sent.

Edna glanced down at it. The letter was written in neat, elegant handwriting—solemn and courteous. Katrina likely hadn’t shown it to her earlier on purpose. With Marianne already proposed to by the Crown Prince, letting the world know that Edna had received a proposal from Ian would only invite gossip. And more importantly, by Katrina’s standards, neither suitor was ideal.

Ian rubbed the sweat from his palms onto his trousers, wondering if he should take it all back right now. Henry had said her beauty might not move mountains, but perhaps her presence could sway the Whittaker family. Now Ian realized—he didn’t have anything to move her with.

He should’ve dragged Henry here and made him handle this himself. Standing there felt like being stripped naked.

“Who wrote this letter?” Edna asked.

“My aide, Henry Bern,” Ian replied.

Of course. The clean, precise phrasing and impeccable formality were unmistakable. Henry—his right-hand man and the Lombardi family’s strategist. Even the Crown Prince had tried to recruit him, but Henry refused all offers of wealth and stayed loyal to Ian. Rumors had even circulated about the two men, though Edna knew they were nonsense.

“And the clothes you’re wearing… did Henry pick them too?” she asked, half-amused, half-certain.

The Bern family was excellent in every way except taste—they were infamous for their bizarre aesthetic. Their eccentric fashion choices sometimes became trends for the novelty, but mostly they were objects of ridicule.

Ian’s face went crimson. Katrina cleared her throat and turned away. Edna, struggling not to laugh, lowered her gaze to the letter again.

Ian was sure the next thing he’d hear would be her cold rejection. He was used to this sort of outcome—it wouldn’t be a surprise. Still…

“I will accept your proposal.”

Ian blinked. Had he heard that right? He jumped to his feet, startled. Katrina’s flustered voice filled the air.

“E-Edna, perhaps you should think about this a little longer? Marriage isn’t something to decide so suddenly…”

Edna glanced at her. Katrina looked surprised, yes—but not angry. That was a good sign. When Edna had once announced her engagement to the Crown Prince, Katrina had exploded in fury, threatening to disown her. Yet, despite everything, Katrina had always protected her—even to the end, when she’d died for it.

As Ian turned his golden eyes on her, Katrina fumbled for words.

“I-I’m not objecting, Your Grace, truly. It’s just that this is marriage we’re talking about. Most families take days to deliberate… such a decision shouldn’t be rushed.”

“No matter how long I think it over, my answer will be the same, Mother.”

Edna’s voice was calm but firm. She wouldn’t change her mind. A flicker of conflict passed through Katrina’s eyes, but after a brief silence, she nodded with quiet resolve.

“Very well. I will support your decision, Edna.”

A short sentence—but it carried immense weight. It was the word of the acting head of the Whittaker family. For her to say she supported Edna’s decision meant the entire house stood behind Ian Lombardi. A faint smile spread over Edna’s face.

“Thank you, Mother.”

She spoke simply, then turned toward Ian. His golden eyes were wide with disbelief.

“Ah, I—I mean…”

He knew he sounded ridiculous, but he couldn’t help it. He’d expected rejection, not acceptance. He was so startled that his bright red beret slipped from his head onto his shoulder.

Edna’s graceful brow creased slightly, and that only made Ian panic more.

“Ah, um…”

He looked helplessly from Katrina to Edna, but neither could rescue him now. Then, slowly, composure returned to his eyes, and a warm smile spread across his face.

“Thank you, my lady. I’ll do everything in my power to make sure you never regret this decision.”

This wasn’t love. It was an agreement—a negotiation between countless unspoken conditions. Yet Ian felt genuinely happy. He bowed respectfully to both women.

“I’ll take my leave for today. My apologies for coming without notice.”

After Ian left, only Katrina and Edna remained. When the tea cooled, Katrina reheated the kettle herself and poured fresh tea into Edna’s cup. Neither spoke for a while. Dust drifted lazily through the still air. The bitter aroma of tea filled the silence until Katrina finally spoke.

“What are you thinking?”

She knew better than anyone that, despite her fondness for the sword, Edna wasn’t the reckless girl people gossiped about.

“The Crown Prince has his eye on the Whittaker family,” Edna said quietly, setting her cup down. “He’s the one who did that to Father—and keeping the Saluga fleet anchored at Pero Island for two weeks was practically a declaration of war.”

No one said it aloud, but everyone suspected the same. Her father’s death had likely been an accident—perhaps the Crown Prince’s men had only meant to threaten him, and things had gone too far.

“The Crown Prince knows Marianne already has a lover,” Edna continued. “If he proposed anyway, it means he’s desperate. What he truly wants is Whittaker’s Saluga fleet. Marianne was just the convenient choice—better for his image.”

A cold smile touched her lips.

“They’ll say it’s her beauty that tempted him, not our gold. It suits them, doesn’t it? The nobles who live and die by appearances. But if Marianne keeps refusing him, he’ll put more pressure on Saluga… and eventually turn his attention to me. And I’ll have no excuse to refuse.”

Her icy blue eyes gleamed with restrained fire.

“I can’t keep turning him down without a proper reason. At first, they’ll pretend to be gracious—but soon enough, they’ll resort to force. And next time, it won’t just be ships detained at Pero Island.”

She took a sip of tea, wetting her dry throat.

“If I were a knight, I would have refused him outright.”

In her previous life, the Crown Prince had looked down on her even as he begrudgingly accepted her desperate proposal. His contempt had been clear—the result of the emperor’s infamous precedent: female knights reduced to royal courtesans.

Edna had become a knight simply because she loved the sword, but the imperial family—especially the Crown Prince and the Empress—avoided her like a plague.

Even so, the Crown Prince had publicly declared that he had graciously accepted the shy affection of a noble lady. A vile, shameless liar.

Edna shook her head, exhaling the memory away.

“But this time, I won’t become a knight,” she said.

“So what will you do?” Katrina’s calm, clear eyes met hers.

“Give me a position in Saluga,” Edna replied. “I’ll learn to work—any post will do, even as a lowly clerk. Since I’m engaged to Duke Ian, they won’t touch me for a while. Though,” she added with a wry smile, “they might send a few assassins to the Lombardi estate.”

Her smile turned sharp.

“But I hear he’s the sort of man who can handle that much.”

The only man who’d ever bested Edna in combat—if anyone could deal with assassins, it was Ian Lombardi.