Chapter 3
This time, Bongpiju pressed the old priest with a determination that made it clear she wouldn’t back down without a definite answer.
The old priest glanced down at Erika and mumbled awkwardly.
“Hm… It’s true… For such a young lady to just stand still without moving like she’s enduring something… it’s a bit much.”
He was worried about Erika.
He assumed Bongpiju was raising her voice at him, a high priest, out of concern for her mistress.
Her eyes flitted to Erika. For a moment, a sly glint flickered in her gaze, as though she had found the perfect excuse.
“Exactly. As you know, my lady is not in the best of health. How much longer must she wait out here like this?”
Erika subtly lowered her gaze.
She hadn’t complained even once.
Compared to the harsh training she’d endured at the marquisate, merely standing here quietly was much easier…
So why did it suddenly seem like she was the one making a fuss?
Her face flushed with heat.
In the meantime, Bongpiju, as if she had finally opened the floodgates of her frustration, continued to speak out.
“I never understood why things had to be rushed like beans roasted over lightning. Wouldn’t it have been far more convenient if the duke’s household had arrived yesterday and held the ceremony today?”
Her complaints came endlessly.
“This is clearly the Acliff ducal house showing disregard for our Blanche marquisate.”
Bongpiju was fiercely loyal to the current Marquis of Blanche.
She felt that this open-ended wait was an insult to the house she served, and that made her all the more indignant.
“Haha, I doubt that’s the case. Let’s just wait a bit longer,” the old priest said softly.
Yet there was a quiet authority in his gentle tone that made Bongpiju fall silent out of instinct.
Erika listened to her maid’s complaints, and she partially agreed.
For instance, the schedule was absurdly tight.
But it wasn’t something she couldn’t understand.
It can’t be helped.
The Acliff duchy, who had shown little interest in the marriage all this time, had offered only one condition:
The wedding vow had to be completed at the Great Temple, and the bride was to be taken directly back to the duchy immediately afterward.
The reason? The situation at the “Border” was reportedly unstable.
It was the only condition they had presented, and if the marquisate didn’t accept it, the wedding would be postponed indefinitely.
So the Marquis Blanche had no choice but to grit his teeth and accept it.
Maybe the Acliff duchy didn’t want the marriage in the first place. Maybe they’re making us wait on purpose, hoping we’ll give up on our own…
If it ended that way, the marquisate would take the blame for ruining the engagement, and the duchy would be free of responsibility.
Erika bit the inside of her cheek.
But I never had a choice to begin with.
And now, she was left to endlessly wait for someone from the ducal house to arrive. She was the bride offered up for exactly that purpose.
It’s okay. I just have to wait until they come.
She wondered if she was being overly cynical, but considering the long history of animosity between the two houses, it wasn’t so far-fetched.
Erika looked up at the sky.
When she had gotten off the carriage, the sky had been a clear blue. Now it was slowly being tinted in pastel hues.
It was still bright, but the sun was beginning to dip toward the horizon.
Should I ask them to prepare a blanket in case it gets cold?
It felt like a burden to ask, but maybe—just maybe—if she pleaded earnestly, they might agree.
And then—
Dudududu—
The faint sound of hoofbeats reached her ears.
Erika had been staring absentmindedly at the lengthening shadows by her feet when her gaze lifted.
A tide of black shadows was rushing toward the Great Temple from afar.
…Ah.
Erika instinctively understood.
It’s them.
Without realizing it, she clenched her hands tightly.
It felt like her insides were twisting in knots.
Before she knew it, a group of riders kicked up dust as they galloped to a stop in front of the temple. Behind them was a large ebony carriage pulled by two horses.
One of the black stallions slowed its pace and trotted directly up to Erika.
Naturally, Erika was startled. But she didn’t step back.
“Whoa, easy there.”
A calm, pleasant voice sounded, drawing Erika’s gaze upward.
A boy sat atop the black horse, gently pulling the reins as he shifted his posture.
It’s him…
Erika’s mouth went dry.
She wasn’t sure if it was appropriate to be thinking this right now, but the only thought in her mind was how strikingly handsome he was.
Sebastian Acliff, the heir to the duchy.
Crimson eyes sharp as blades, jet-black hair, and tightly pressed lips that hinted at stubbornness.
Though his face still held a trace of youth, he radiated an overwhelming aura that made Erika tense up.
I heard he’s four years older than me…
But he felt far beyond her reach, more like an adult than a peer.
What little confidence she had was already crumbling.
We’ll never get along… will we?
Just as Erika began to lower her gaze again—
Their eyes met.
Snap!
Sebastian’s red lips twisted, and a sound slipped out—something between a sigh and a scoff.
There was no mistaking it—he was not pleased.
The chill in his eyes as he looked down at her sent a shiver through Erika’s small frame.
She flinched despite herself.
Swallowing dryly, Erika dropped her gaze again.
He already doesn’t like me…
What should she do?
She had to endure until the coming-of-age ceremony, but if he disliked her from the start…
Would she be sent away?
If that happens… what about Mother…
A heavy shadow fell across her pale, pure face.
And then—
“Tch.”
Behind her, Bongpiju clicked her tongue.
Erika knew exactly why the head maid was upset again.
Unlike her, dressed in a pristine ceremonial gown, the arrivals from the Acliff duchy were clad in knight uniforms and traveling cloaks.
Even the groom, Sebastian Acliff!
That must be what bothered her.
The horse that had approached Erika carefully turned and stepped away.
About twenty paces away, Sebastian dismounted in one smooth motion. His four knights followed suit.
Sebastian handed his stallion’s reins to one of his men, then turned with crisp, disciplined movements.
Bongpiju stepped up beside Erika and bowed her head.
She whispered in a voice only the girl could hear.
“Remember. You absolutely cannot make a mistake.”
“…Yes, Madam Bongpiju.”
Erika replied in a barely audible whisper.
Bongpiju clicked her tongue again, displeased, then strode ahead.
Erika swallowed hard and pressed her lips tightly together.
Meanwhile, Sebastian closed the distance between them in a few long strides.
When he came to a stop in front of her, Erika carefully lifted her skirt.
Now, kneel. Don’t get nervous. You’ve practiced this.
She had spent sleepless nights rehearsing this moment, even skipping meals to perfect her posture.
Encouraging herself, Erika executed the formal bow with flawless grace.
“I greet the heir of House Acliff. I am Erika Blanche.”
Sebastian, arms crossed, tilted his head and looked her over again.
“Hm.”
A short sound escaped his lips, like he was evaluating something.
He said nothing else.
Erika swallowed again.
Even after that, he remained silent for a long moment. Then, finally, he spoke in a curt tone.
“You already seem to know my name, so I’ll skip the introductions.”
He was speaking informally.
But Erika didn’t mind—he looked like someone who deserved to talk down to others.
“…Yes.”
She awkwardly straightened up.
Then Bongpiju, following Erika’s lead, offered a graceful bow despite being older than the boy.
“I greet the heir of House Acliff. I am Bongpiju, head maid of the Blanche marquisate.”
Sebastian gave only a small nod in response.
Standing straight again, Bongpiju boldly continued the conversation.
“You arrived quite late. We were concerned something might have happened on the way, my lord.”
Though her words sounded polite, the sarcasm was clear.
And just like that—
The air froze over.
