Chapter 17
After finishing my preparations, I got into the carriage. As I leaned back against the seat—so much softer than my bed—I suddenly felt a pang of sadness.
“What the heck, there’s such a comfy seat here, and I can’t even roll around on it.”
But if I did, my hair would get completely tangled, obviously. I pressed my palm down on the seat beside me. The way it sank under my hand and then bounced back made me feel even more wistful.
I must have looked nervous or uneasy, because Serurian spoke in a calm tone.
“You don’t need to worry too much about the dinner. His Excellency might not even sit down—he often just greets people and then heads straight to his room.”
“Even when it’s his first time meeting me?”
That was absurd. Who invites someone over and then just nods at them?
Serurian, however, replied as if it were perfectly ordinary.
“He’s equally curt with everyone. Just appearing in person is a big deal. You’re already being given special treatment.”
What, does the man have a golden face or something? If showing up is “special treatment,” then even the Emperor isn’t that high-maintenance.
As I looked incredulous, Kalima smiled sweetly and added:
“Well, in actual combat he’s a truly admirable man.”
“Don’t talk nonsense.”
So he’s socially inept but still takes the front lines in battle? The more I heard, the less I understood what kind of person he was.
“He must look like a stoic rock—probably not even half as handsome as Serurian. Maybe he’s so cold that you wouldn’t even notice his looks.”
While I was imagining the Duke of Luke, Serurian let out a low sigh.
“Edel.”
Before he could continue, I patted my chest confidently.
“Yes! Don’t worry.”
“…Do you even know what I’m worried about?”
“Of course I do!”
I answered brightly.
“I’ll show them the world’s worst daughter-in-law! Much more vicious and annoying than last time!”
Serurian fell silent, and Kalima burst out laughing.
They didn’t look very serious—but I was. Princess Vanerinne would be waiting like a venomous snake, after all.
“She might’ve even insulted Serurian after that last incident.”
Feeling sorry for him since he had to live under the same roof with her, I added kindly:
“If you get nervous, just trust me. I always keep my promises. I’ve never even missed a deadline!”
Kalima laughed so hard she wiped away tears.
“You’re truly magnificent. Please take good care of our commander.”
“I’ll protect him well!”
At our back-and-forth, Serurian quickly turned his head away.
Before long, the carriage arrived at the Duke of Luke’s mansion. Just before stepping out, I recalled what Serurian had said:
“The Duke of Luke. Curt, indifferent, will only show his face.”
I decided I’d just greet him and leave it at that.
But the moment I leaned out of the carriage—
“He never said anything about this!”
Instead of Serurian standing there to offer his hand, a tall man I’d never seen before was waiting.
Reddish hair, calm blue eyes. Tall and lean, with a faint air of disarray that somehow added to his charm—like a man standing alone in a blazing autumn forest.
The fine lines at the corners of his eyes looked dry enough to crack. I could swear I had never seen him before.
“Who is this man?”
As I darted my eyes around in confusion, Serurian said calmly:
“His Excellency, the Duke of Luke.”
“Excuse me—what?”
Why on earth was the Duke himself here?!
That had all started, apparently, with a moment of whimsy.
Before the dinner had been arranged, Edel—having finished a draft of her article—had used her spare time to write a letter to the Duke of Luke.
When Serurian saw the pink envelope with floral stationery, he tilted his head.
“Didn’t I tell you such things won’t work on His Excellency?”
“Still, it’s better than doing nothing, right?”
“Hmm.”
He accepted it. Even the scent that clung to Edel seemed to linger on the envelope.
After staring at it for a moment, Serurian nodded lightly. Whether or not it would be read was up to the Duke anyway.
“I’ll deliver it for you.”
And as a result, the Duke of Luke personally came to greet Edel.
When he saw my obvious surprise, the Duke frowned and spoke in a curt tone.
“…You’re the one who asked me to come out and greet you, aren’t you?”
“Ah, yes, I did write that.”
But that wasn’t what I’d meant at all! What I’d written was:
‘The joyous day of meeting Your Excellency draws near. If our first meeting is a warm one, I believe it will be a good omen for a happy marriage.’
“How does that translate to ‘please come meet me in person’?! I just meant ‘please don’t slam the door in my face!’”
Still, I couldn’t exactly make things awkward for the Duke after he’d gone out of his way to show his face. I smiled and gently placed my hand in his.
The journalist in me immediately reframed the situation in my favor.
“Once again, the headline gods have blessed me! ‘Duke of Luke Personally Greets Commoner Fiancée!’ The papers will sell like crazy!”
At this rate, my vacation might turn into a resignation letter—and I’d become a freelance reporter writing nothing but Duke of Luke exclusives!
“Honestly, that could work.”
Every part of this situation helped Serurian, humiliated the princess, and boosted my career. Perfect.
Relaxing, I stepped down from the carriage with a bright smile.
“Thank you for such a warm welcome, Your Grace. How kind of you.”
At my words, the people around us all widened their eyes.
“Oops, maybe that was too much?”
Considering the Duke’s famously cold demeanor, maybe it sounded insincere. But it was too late to take it back. I gave an awkward smile just as he spoke in a low, heavy voice.
“Your name is Edel, correct?”
“Yes, Edel Azean.”
The Duke stared at me with steady blue eyes.
“Your parents?”
What? A background check, seriously?
That seemed far too trivial for someone like him to ask.
“I’ll have to write about this later—‘Surprisingly Ordinary In-Law Conversation from the Duke of Luke.’”
Still, I answered smoothly.
“My mother passed away, and I never had a father.”
Surely they knew I was an unmarried mother’s daughter before agreeing to this match, right?
I glanced at him nervously. His side profile—with its strong nose and thick lashes—was hard to read.
“Why does he look… familiar somehow?”
There was no way we’d met, and yet his face felt oddly familiar.
“Where have I seen him before?”
Those deep double eyelids, that soft reddish hair—I was sure I’d seen them somewhere.
While I strained to remember, the Duke suddenly turned his face toward me, and I quickly lowered my gaze.
Then, out of nowhere, he asked:
“You know nothing about your father?”
“Huh? My father?”
I blinked. All I knew was what Mom used to say.
“…She said he was trash—not even good enough to recycle.”
The Duke’s face twisted instantly. It was impossible not to notice the shift. I scratched my cheek awkwardly.
“Was that too blunt? Maybe I shouldn’t have said it like that.”
Serurian had warned me that my tabloid-style speech could be too harsh for nobles.
I clasped my hands and gave an apologetic smile.
“I’m sorry, Your Grace. I’m still not used to proper etiquette.”
Then he spoke, flatly:
“Father.”
“…What?”
“Call me ‘Father.’”
“Huh?”
The air around us froze. I glanced around—everyone had their heads lowered, trying to hide their expressions, but their trembling shoulders gave them away.
“What’s so shocking about that?”
We were about to become family—it’s only natural to call him Father. Why was everyone acting like I’d committed treason?
“Ah, maybe because it’s too soon? We’re not married yet, after all.”
Smiling brightly, I replied:
“Oh, I can’t do that yet.”
I said it sweetly, like a bashful daughter-in-law declining politely—
but the crowd gasped again.
“Gasp!”
“She just—! To His Excellency—!”
What now?! He told me to call him Father, and when I refused politely, they got upset?
While I stood there confused, the Duke’s lips twisted slightly, his expression displeased.
“And why not?”
His eyes were different from Serurian’s clear blue ones—darker, like the deep navy of the night sky. When he furrowed his brow slightly, his gaze seemed even darker.
I blinked innocently and tilted my head.
“Because we’re not married yet, of course. It’s only proper to call you Father after the wedding.”
His jaw tightened, visibly. I wondered if I’d said something wrong—then suddenly, he called out:
“Serurian.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
With an unreadable expression, the Duke looked down at him.
“When do you plan to hold the ceremony?”
Serurian answered respectfully.
“We’re ready for any date.”
“Then make it as soon as possible.”
At those words, I could only stare at him wide-eyed.
