TDSWM Chapter 06

Wow! I gasped, as petals began drifting down from the battle towers.

White ribbons fluttered along the long tree-lined road, congratulating the Grand Duke on his marriage. The odd beauty of this scene, so different from the storybook version, gave me a strange sense of déjà vu.

Instead of the fiends and beasts of the demon realm I’d envisioned running across broad fields by the river, there were May-flowering Japanese evodia, acacia trees, and wisteria lavishly welcoming the procession. Beneath them bloomed dwarf irises and peonies. The buzz of bees, the sweet fragrant blossoms, and petals drifting into the carriage enchanted my senses.

The wide plain glowed brilliantly under the late afternoon sun. Beyond the river, the demon realm appeared like a neutral zone, its natural features beautifully enhancing the view. A windmill perched on low hills, a mill by the water’s edge, and clusters of houses created a pastoral scene. The scent of earthy manure drifted in—proof that these were still places lived in by humans.

After traveling for two more hours, the Grand Duke’s Schlesgen Castle came into view—grand and majestic, a fortress built from massive, sturdy bricks.

Furthermore, the single-lane road extending from the estate toward the river stood on a sharp-edged hexagonal island, making it closer to the demon realm than any other region of the Biatrian Empire.

At the parapet, watchtowers stood tall, and each embrasure bore soot stains—a sign of fierce battles with the demon realm. As a stronghold erected on land jutting toward the demon lands, this castle once served as a forward base for conquering the demon domain. Thus, it stood closer to the demon realm than any other territory in the empire.

Soot marks in the cannon holes of the castle—those were made of demonstone—testified to bitter conflict. Julius, Gerald’s father, had conquered these lands and stood firm against what was once the demon realm. Loved by his people, he bore no heir and willingly passed the throne to his younger brother, dedicating himself to protecting the realm from the frontier. Most of the common folk here were descendants of knights who had followed him to this land, and he cared for them as family, his loyal knights who had sacrificed everything for the empire’s security.

Their pride and loyalty remained unbroken. When Gerald gently waved at them, they kneeled and bowed:

“Congratulations on your marriage, Your Grace!”

The cheers were as earnest as if Julius were still ruling.

I too smiled gracefully, waving like a beauty queen as the crowd continued endlessly. My arm ached, but Gerald maintained his dignified composure—and wore an elegant smile.

Finally, we reached the very end of the river—Schlesgen Castle at the northernmost edge of the Carikas Estate. The demonstone walls glowed orange-red in the afternoon sun as we crossed the moat. Servants lined the bridge, bowing respectfully. Many heroes had died on this very walkway, defending against a demon at its end. My love, Alfred, must have faced such horrors—my heart filled with solemnity.

Then—

“Dear wife, your attempt at suicide before the ceremony implied you wished to live by your will; thus your oath before the divine must have been sincere, right?”

…!

Had I been lost in thought even while smiling at the people?

“As your wife, as the mistress of this estate, will you do your best?”

Finally, he wanted to make a deal. I agreed.

“Well… that is difficult.”

…!

His brow twitched. I clarified my intentions:

“As a wife? That’s hard—I don’t know the Grand Duke well yet, and we’re not in love. But as Mother of Theodore, and mistress of the estate, I will do my utmost—for the sake of my own life.”

Surprised, he steeled his resolve:

“Very well. I will watch. But if you fail even that…”

I’d be dead.

“I will try with all my might.”

He looked slightly taken aback.

“Your Grace and Duchess have arrived.”

With that, the carriage door opened. He offered his hand, and I took it willingly.

And so, my married life in this novel finally began.

But then—

“Please remove it, my wife.”

Gerald, clad only in a robe, sat regally on the camp bed beside the bathtub, sponge in hand—like a Greek sculpture, in the center of the bathroom.

And where was I? At the bath’s entrance, clad in a bathrobe that barely covered me. One arm shielded my chest, the other covered my lower region. I stood awkwardly, utterly flustered.

Should I just die now? But I cannot—a witch’s curse binds me.

Sigh.

“Are you shy, my wife?”

Oh, the politeness he uses when teasing—today’s little revelation.

Until I stepped from the carriage, until the banquet—I never imagined I’d find myself in such a predicament.

This is the Jayer family’s wedding after all! Attended by the Emperor who once ordered a five-year-old’s death, I was to greet elders alongside Gerald and receive their blessings.

Then we sat elegantly, surrounded by younger relatives giving congratulations. I performed the role of the chairperson, principal, vice principal, dean, homeroom teacher—like a substitute teacher threading the formalities.

Yet keeping royal decorum in my parched throat felt like enduring a scorching summer drought. After all that, the vassals and villagers came to greet me too. They seemed to wonder if I’d be a good steward.

Though I sent for water, the lime-rich water was undrinkable—and I drank more wine than I should have.

Then, I was commanded to dance alone.

A bridal solo? Today isn’t a wedding feast—it’s a bridal examination!

Well then. I decided I’d dance if the kids averaged over 90 on tests—practiced to the song “Fireworks” from my school days. Yet, as I recalled the memory while under the judges’ eyes, women swarmed me like dogs.

Chaos—utter pandemonium. As if bridal bouquet toss shifted to veils—marriageable ladies tore at the veil’s tulle in tradition.

They clung fiercely, desperate not to miss a royal blessing. I thought my hair would be pulled out.

No royal marriages in the next five years was the root of this chaos. The women scrabbled for that veil.

A fight over the bride’s veil with the step-son! Five years from now, murdered by the stepson, would she fight to keep tugging my hair like this?

In that moment—

Gerald came to my rescue, gracefully, like Julius himself in swordsmanship.

He looked cool and calm, a relief.

Perhaps my grandaunt was right: if not for the curse on Theodore, Gerald could have already conquered the demon realm.

My grandaunt warned me never to reveal Theodore’s curse—or death would follow on the spot. Breaking royal favor meant instant execution.

Yes, this is their world.

It’s terrifying.

If the Grand Duke discovered that Sinclair’s body carries a witch’s blood—would they let me live?

In the Biatrian Empire, the term “demon realm” was laden with loathing and contempt. Its people were seen as worse than beasts—worth nothing more than destruction.

That land embodied barbarism and chaos. Its inhabitants wielded magic and lived beyond the Terion River since pre-civilization.

Until 15 years ago, this Carikas Estate—even Schlesgen Castle—was part of that realm, home to many wizards and witches. Yet they never organized into states or empires—they were anarchists—so powerful and individualistic.

Some, curious about the Empire, entered and dazzled with their abilities. But if betrayed, they punished ruthlessly—turning humans into beasts, affliction, madness. Thus the Empire’s citizens feared them deeply, calling them witches and warlocks.

When Emperor Herace ascended, he mercilessly exterminated many demonfolk, enslaving any with mana like untouchables.

So if it were ever discovered that Sinclair’s bloodline harbors witchcraft—disgrace would befall the family. She must have been abused. Her back bore those gruesome wounds.

What will I tell Gerald about these scars?

“Darling.”

His voice boomed through the bathhouse, teasing. I bit my lip softly.