BTSECP 03

Chapter  3

…There’s no way this “Diana” they’re talking about is me.

Just as I was about to say that, a voice I knew all too well rang in my ears.

【Hear the voice of the sword, Diana.】

I frowned.

The knight beside me let out a sigh and said,

“Isn’t it something that can’t be undone anyway? You should rest.”

Can’t be undone?

Before I could chew on the meaning of those words, the carriage window was shut.

Then, as if on cue, the carriage slowed down.

From the noise outside, it seemed we had arrived at Wilhelm territory.

Wilhelm territory.

I thought of the last face I saw before dying—the Grand Duke’s.

That face, cold as ice.

The face my father used to sing praises of, saying how handsome he was.

I never imagined I would end up marrying such a man.

After the age of fifteen, all I did was devote myself to forging swords.

The only men I ever met were the rough ones who came into the smithy.

Not the type you could ever see as men or women—just fellow workers.

“And now… I’m marrying the Grand Duke?”

Was it because the sword I made was too good, that the Grand Duke of Wilhelm decided to take me as his bride?

Sure, anyone would fall for my sword, but shouldn’t he have asked for my consent?

And more than that…

“How did they even bring me back to life?”

I glanced down at where a long sword had pierced me.

It had gone straight through my heart and deep into my lungs.

I’m a smith. I know exactly how a sword tears flesh apart.

But I’d never heard of any medicine or sorcery that could stitch a torn heart back together.

Then how…?

At that moment, the carriage that had been crawling to a halt stopped completely.

With the jolt, something rolled into my lap.

A small dagger.

I knew instantly what it was.

The first sword I’d ever used to carve an airhole into someone’s throat.

How was this here?

【Listen to the voice of the sword…】

Again, my father’s voice whispered in my ear.

Damn it.

Had I finally gone insane?

Hallucinating that I was at a wedding with Amin Wilhelm of all people?

Was I really such a man-crazy blacksmith?

Feeling disgusted with myself, I picked up the dagger.

The moment my hand touched its hilt—

【Goddamn it… I’m gonna lose my mind. Are you really gonna kill him?】

…What?

This time it wasn’t my father’s voice.

It was the voice of a young girl.

Sweet and innocent, yet with the gruff tone of some old drunkard—it didn’t match at all.

But strangely enough, the voice didn’t feel unfamiliar.

【Forget it! I’m out. Don’t come crying to me later! You stubborn bastard. I told you—!】

What did she mean, regret later?

Just then, the carriage door swung open.

Instinctively, I hid the dagger under the folds of my heavy dress.

“Lady Diana, you really must come out now.”

But I didn’t move.

No—I couldn’t.

Because the dagger spoke again.

【Killing Amin Wilhelm would be the dumbest thing you could ever do, Diana Isla!】

Kill Amin Wilhelm?

The moment I heard that, I slammed the carriage door shut.

The knight outside knocked in confusion.

“My lady?”

Think.

I needed to think.

Diana Isla—that was the name the dagger had spoken.

And yes, I had heard that name before.

Father and I had once lived near the Marquis of Isla’s lands.

I remembered the Marquis’ oily face clearly.

“Give me a chance to forge a sword, blacksmith.”

That pompous tone still rang in my ears.

And I remembered the rumors about him too.

He had two wives, and from the first, he had a daughter.

Her name was Diana Isla.

She was notorious for her temper. The locals all said to avoid provoking her at any cost.

That was why the name had stuck with me.

Diana.

The Isla family’s eldest daughter—who, by some misfortune, shared my name.

But back then, she’d only been nine years old.

Was she really of marrying age already?

【Already? She’s twenty! Old enough to have three kids.】

Twenty?

【If she hadn’t thrown a tantrum about wanting to marry the Second Prince, she’d have been married off ages ago!】

Wait. She wanted to marry the Second Prince?

That’s Valter… Amin’s younger brother.

This was a complete disaster.

“Lady Diana!”

The knight’s urging voice came again while I was still listening to the dagger.

I couldn’t delay forever.

I had to respond.

So I thought—if I were Diana Isla right now, what would I say?

The infamously ill-tempered daughter.

A woman being forced to marry the elder brother of the man she truly wanted.

Then—

“Shut up! I’ll come out when I feel like it!”

Yes, that would do.

And my guess was right: silence fell outside.

Good.

But that left a bigger problem.

This dagger.

Why on earth could I talk with it?

【You still don’t get it? You’re a sword too, you idiot.】

…What?

【Damn, strutting around with sword aura like that and you still think you’re human. Pathetic. If only I had that much aura. The heavens are unfair.】

At those words, an image flashed in my mind.

That night under the moonlight, when I became a scabbard for a massive sword as I lay dying.

In that moment, my body had merged with the blade.

Then… could it be?

【Exactly. You finally figured it out. That’s why you can hear the voices of swords.】

The voices of swords.

My father’s words came back to me. How he always told me to listen for them.

He’d once said that great swords carried souls.

That those souls were called “sword spirits,” and that every smith dreamed of hearing their voices.

“If only these damn swords would tell me when they’re hurting, or when they’re lacking something.”

But we’d always dismissed that as drunken rambling—blacksmith’s tavern talk.

Though, come to think of it, spending time with those rough men had left me with a pretty coarse way of speaking myself, even as a child.

“Why does a brat like you sound like an old drunk?”

That was what they always said to me.

【Hey, are you gonna do it or not? Kill your husband, I mean. You’ll die too, you know. That’s what you want?】

The dagger’s voice broke my thoughts again.

Kill my husband?

I remembered Amin’s face—the last one I saw before I died.

No matter how much she liked the Second Prince, did Diana Isla really plan to kill such a handsome man—and herself along with him?

So she was as insane as I was, stabbing myself with my own blade.

It must be the curse of the name Diana.

【As if becoming Emperor would make that bastard notice you.】

My eyes widened.

Valter… became Emperor?

【That’s right, that damn bastard is Emperor now. I bet everything on Amin winning! Thought he’d crush him! Damn it, if I’d been Amin’s sword I would’ve slit Valter’s throat myself! Hah!】

So Valter had won.

Which meant Father’s sword, Gram, had won.

I remembered Gram’s blazing eyes.

I slipped the dagger into the back of my dress. A chill ran down my spine.

【Aaaagh!】

The dagger screamed.

【I don’t wanna kill anyone! It’s scary!】

…?

Wasn’t this the same dagger that was just bragging about slaughtering Valter?

【N-no! I meant gross, not scary! Hmph!】

Yeah, sure.

Hiding my doubt, I kicked open the carriage door.

Everyone’s eyes widened.

With one hand on the doorframe, I jerked my chin at the knight who’d been nagging me.

“Hey.”

“…Y-yes, my lady?”

My rude tone made his face twist in disapproval, but I didn’t care. Nobility’s manners meant nothing to me.

I pointed at the path ahead.

At its end stood a man.

Tall and broad, his very presence cut like a blade through the wind.

And he was staring at me with clear displeasure.

Amin Wilhelm.

The man who should have been master of my sword.

“If I walk over there… then the marriage can’t be undone, right?”

“Once the marriage is consummated, my lady.”

“…”

Oh, the consummation.

I hadn’t thought that far.

But fine. So be it.

My eyes sparkled as I looked at Amin.

This was good.

Valter was alive.

Gram was alive.

And more than anything—you were alive.

I could start again from here.

All I had to do was kill Gram once more.

Ignoring the knight’s offered hand, I hopped down from the carriage.

Thus began the Grand Duchess of Wilhelm’s shocking first appearance.

From a distance, Amin’s adjutant muttered,

“Does she hate this marriage that much?”

The adjutant, Fares, stole a glance at his master.

But Amin, expressionless, was only watching Diana Isla—soon to be Diana Wilhelm—stride boldly toward him.

“For someone who hates it, her walk is awfully confident.”

His brow furrowed slightly.

“She looks less like a bride and more like someone marching off to kill.”

Watching her approach like a general heading into battle, Amin spoke.

Her pink hair gleamed in the light, curling elegantly. Her pale skin and soft green eyes made her look like a doll.

But did this future duchess really think that bold stride suited her?

Pulling out a flask, Amin took a swig.

Fares grimaced.

“Drinking, here of all places? At your own wedding?”

“Why? Maybe I should offer her a sip too. After all—”

His gaze darkened.

“—this isn’t exactly the kind of wedding either of us can face sober.”

While Amin muttered into his flask, the bride stopped before him.

Her expression was fierce, almost angry.

Amin grinned.

“What, am I getting slapped again today?”

He held out the flask to her.

“Want a drink?”

Fares winced, bracing for the inevitable slap across Amin’s jaw.

But instead—

Diana snatched the flask and gulped it down without hesitation.

Gasps rose all around.

When she finally lowered it, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand—heedless of her pristine gown—and asked,

“So. What do we do next?”

Her face was nothing but resolute.