Chapter 6
“This champagne smells like tangerines. I like it.”
At Kikozelia’s words, Sokor nodded.
“I’d say one sip costs about 2 gold,” he added.
Sokor had a habit of converting everything into money, having grown up with a poorer father compared to his uncle, the former Count of Armeniaca. This costs that much, that costs this much—his mind was consumed by nothing but money.
“You still speak with that bourgeois tone.”
Kikozelia, slightly displeased, set down her champagne glass, twitching the corner of her mouth as she spoke calmly.
Sokor smirked and looked at her.
“It’s because I like a life where I can drink this every day.”
Kikozelia glanced around before opening her mouth.
“That may be so. But that was a year ago. You’ll have to get used to it now.”
“Of course I must get used to it. Both the lady and I must live like true royal nobles.”
“Yes, naturally.”
“By the way, about Olentia. It seems she’s about to hire a legal representative.”
Sokor had not forgotten Olentia’s determined gaze. His cousin would endure legal battles if necessary.
They had to prevent the fact that she came from a dysfunctional family from becoming known. Once a legal battle started, life in the Bonus Empire would become extremely difficult.
At that moment, Kikozelia clenched the napkin on her lap and said,
“The Marquis of Luxus will be looking for a match this spring.”
Sokor forced himself to recall the Marquis’s strengths at the mention of his name.
“He’s quick with numbers and easy to communicate with.”
Kikozelia smiled slyly.
“Yes. The Marquis of Luxus is a very materialistic person. So he would naturally immerse himself in new ventures, searching the world over. Since the head of the family often leaves the household, he’ll need stability—and that’s the wife’s role. Plus, once married, he can take a share of the young lady’s vast fortune. From his perspective, it’s two gains at once. Though he won’t get all of it, of course.”
Kikozelia planned a political marriage with Olentia, who had inherited a massive fortune. She had promised the Marquis that she would send Olentia his way, ensuring they could share her wealth.
Olentia’s inheritance had grown considerably through investments, and Kikozelia had no intention of giving up that money. Of course, Sokor felt the same.
Though he felt a strange discomfort at the thought of Olentia sharing her life with the Marquis, he agreed with his wife’s plan.
Sokor took a bite of the avocado tartare that had arrived as an appetizer and said,
“It’s fortunate the Marquis of Luxus is so enamored with Olentia. She is, after all, quite presentable.”
Thinking of Olentia’s fair cheeks and magnificent platinum hair, Sokor smiled lightly. His small eyes narrowed and his cheekbones lifted.
Kikozelia pursed her lips at the mention of appearance.
“There are so many beautiful young ladies in the Bonus Empire. Olentia catching the Marquis’s eye was simply luck. The Marquis’s family is, aside from the Grand Duke’s, the only one comparable to Armeniaca. It’s a fortunate thing for the young lady as well.”
Even knowing the Marquis was a libertine, Kikozelia spoke this way.
Count Sokor tilted his head for a moment.
“From a status perspective, yes. But the rumors are not good. I’ll have to have a deep conversation with him sometime.”
“Is that necessary? Inviting him into the family before the wedding…”
“Would that be a problem?”
“A problem? If there’s a problem, it’s the young lady. Her impetuous actions, her constantly mocking tone… If she were a servant, I’d want to stamp it out. If she even offends the Marquis’s mood…”
“Madam, even between us, don’t speak carelessly. She is not someone to be treated like that.”
Sokor’s voice was firm.
Kikozelia paused briefly, then put on a playful mask over her face.
“I was unladylike for a moment. I’ll be more careful.”
“I hope so.”
“In any case, before Olentia hires a legal representative, I hope Archbishop Werbuu will grant the special marriage permit. Time is urgent.”
Kikozelia’s heart swelled with excitement at the thought of ruthlessly using Olentia.
Sokor was in the long gallery of the Armeniaca count’s mansion. The narrow, elongated corridor displayed the family’s exquisite art and sculptures.
Paintings and sculptures depicting the accomplishments of ancestors with divine powers were dazzling. Many absorbed sunlight or created white orbs.
The Armeniaca family name meant “apricot” in Latin. In the Bonus Empire, apricot trees were famed for warding off spirits, so many generations of Armeniacas were born with divine power. Though these abilities had vanished a century ago, the ancestors’ deeds remained in art, decoration, and architecture. Paintings of their achievements adorned the Bonus Cathedral as well, though Olentia never felt their reality.
Olentia approached Sokor, who seemed lost in thought over the art—or rather, over their ancestors’ accomplishments.
“The special marriage permit… did you apply for it yourself?”
Her question was concise, but her heart was earnest.
Sokor unfolded his hands and slowly turned to Olentia. She instinctively hid her right arm, which wore the bracelet, behind her back. Somehow, in this place, in this situation, she felt Sokor must not see it.
Sokor looked intently at her hidden arm and smirked.
“Why hide the Pieta? Afraid I’ll take it?”
Olentia replied calmly,
“You haven’t returned the inheritance. This bracelet, given by my father, may not be safe from you either.”
The Pieta was a sacred bracelet her late father had gifted when she was a child. He had achieved great things, discovering Cassandra, a land imbued with divine power, and had found this bracelet during the process.
Could it be that the bracelet allowed communication with the heavens? Made of white opals in various hues, with teal Larimar gemstones set in a net-like pattern, it was simple yet elegant.
Olentia never imagined the bracelet would allow her to communicate with the divine. But when she was twelve, almost falling down the stairs, the bracelet’s power saved her, and she heard the divine voice:
“Be careful, Malang.”
After that day, the whole household was in chaos. Only Olentia, having accidentally used the bracelet’s power, could harness it. Her father did everything to keep it secret, and fortunately, the truth had not spread.
Until now, hearing the divine voice had been rare. Still, Olentia treated the Pieta bracelet as her life, never letting it leave her body. In a sense, it was her greatest inheritance from her father.
As Olentia stepped back with a determined gaze to protect the bracelet, Sokor stepped closer.
“Scared? Afraid the bracelet’s contract holder might change? Surely I’d be better than useless you.”
“Don’t belittle me. This bracelet was found by my father at the cost of his life. It’s mine. The contract holder changing? That won’t happen.”
“That could be. But the former count is dead.”
‘Your uncle is no longer by your side. You’re alone.’
When the Count of Armeniaca died, Sokor had said this clearly.
It hadn’t been five years since Olentia’s parents passed away. Hearing him openly say ‘dead’ made hot tears well in her eyes.
She had no desire to cry, but when the insides rot, how can one not purge the impurities?
Through blurred vision, Olentia said firmly to Sokor,
“There’s no need to ask you further about the special marriage permit.”
“…….”
“You’ve become utterly vile.”
Olentia left the long gallery immediately.
She dreamed.
Since her husband appeared wearing the Bauta mask, she knew it was a dream. Even knowing it, she buried herself in his arms. Being a dream, there was no scent, only a feeling of warmth.
Why does it feel so good? So comfortable and happy?
Her husband never revealed his face in dreams, always wearing the mask. The first time the mask was removed, it had been by Olentia.
Now, the masked husband stroked her hair and said,
“Are you satisfied?”
“What… what? Satisfied with… what…?”
She realized she was completely naked, startled, and covered herself with the blanket. Seeing her flustered, he removed the mask himself.
His long, pale fingers removing the mask felt like watching the most beautiful play in the world.
She stared at his face, long unseen, in awe, as if welcoming a god. Straight, neat eyebrows, a smooth nose line—it was breathtaking.
Most striking were his eyes: red as sunlight, roses, and rubies, like all the beautiful shades of red fused into them.
Then came the voice, sweet enough to melt eardrums:
“I will remove the mask in the bedroom, my lady.”
