TFTVGD 08

Chapter 8 …

After exchanging a soft kiss,

I opened the sweat-soaked shirt, and the scent of passionate sweat teased my nose like an intoxicating pheromone.

In the midst of the hot breath, though he seemed outwardly composed, the Duke’s eyes were impatient, asking silently why I had already stopped.

I sat atop him on the chair, teasingly lingering with my lips as if I might kiss him.

“Then why are you so late?”

I looked down at him, gripping his loosened tie.

Of course… this was only in my imagination.

I had definitely reached out, intending to place my hand over his chest.

“…?”

Before I knew it, a sheet of paper was in my hand.

What was happening?

The Duke calmly handed me the paper and sat down on the chair.

“It’s a marriage contract.”

The thing to do on the first night was to draft a marriage contract?

Well, I guess that’s possible. Young couples these days did things like that.

It’s like a marriage registration, right?

After this, he would still give me… intimacy, wouldn’t he?

For now, I looked down at the contract, black ink on white paper.

“You must be curious why I proposed marriage to the crumbling Pelua family.”

I was speechless from the first line, a twitch forming at the corner of my mouth.

[ Goal: Divorce after one year. ]

“If you just follow the clause properly, we’ll proceed with the divorce after a year.”

The words he said right after we met and introduced ourselves were a notice of divorce?

-Just a moment ago, this fox thought of introducing ourselves and immediately moving on to marital matters.-

“I won’t seek divorce for disgraceful reasons, so you needn’t worry.”

I glared at Epère, who was looking down beyond the paper.

‘This bastard…’

I had been willing to overlook his lateness with generosity.

And yet, after pretending he might act properly, what he was actually saying was… divorce?

‘How dare he toy with me?’

Unaware of my expression, the Duke continued speaking calmly.

“I also won’t make unreasonable demands of you as the Duchess.”

I read through the absurd contract.

“Nor will I cut off your living expenses.”

I wasn’t listening to a single word he said.

“You just need to attend official events with me.”

Because there was a clause more eye-catching than all the others.

“You don’t need to pretend to be a good couple, but you also don’t need to look like you’re at odds.”

[ Later, for the sake of our own lives, we will not touch each other’s bodies. ]

“If you live here peacefully and without incident, I promise the divorce after one year.”

Not touching each other’s bodies… that meant we wouldn’t engage in marital intimacy.

It was so ridiculous that I couldn’t help but voice my thoughts directly to the Duke.

“Then why did you propose to Roselia?”

The Duke, who had been looking down, finally lifted his gaze toward me.

Seeing me from a fox’s perspective, I had looked up at him, but as the author looked up, it didn’t feel so bad—though his expression was somewhat sour.

“…Excuse me?”

Ah, yes. Nothing sounds stranger than referring to oneself that way.

I boldly repeated the question so he would think he had misheard.

“I asked why you proposed marriage to me.”

I bit my lip tightly.

“You wouldn’t carry out a contract without knowing any reason.”

Epère rose from his seat.

“This isn’t a contract that must be followed. It only lists the minimum obligations.”

The emphasis was on “without knowing anything,” but the Duke seemed focused solely on “carrying out” the contract.

“And if I don’t follow it?”

The Duke picked up his coat from the chair.

“As long as you follow what’s written there.”

“….”

“As long as you keep to the proper limits.”

“….”

“I won’t neglect you. If you have conditions, just tell me. Anytime.”

But he is neglecting me! Not even physical intimacy, so why propose marriage? And more importantly, what about my fox orb?!

“So, am I just going to do nothing and be nominally the Duchess?”

“…Good that you realize that already.”

He turned and gradually distanced himself from me.

“Why? Why should it be nominal?”

He paused for a moment, then coldly spoke with his back turned.

“…If I’m ever certain that you truly don’t know, I’ll tell you then.”

I couldn’t help thinking, What nonsense is this?

But his demeanor fit too perfectly with the villain in the novel, and I couldn’t say a word.

To the east of the Ellysia Empire stood the sacredly known Tyris Mountain.

Beyond Tyris Mountain to the east lay Tail Mountain, marking the empire’s boundary.

The plains between the two mountains produced abundant crops. Summers were cool, winters warm, and the skies were often clear—ideal as a noble retreat.

Being near the border, trade with other nations was active, and in ancient times, there were occasional wars over the land.

Because of its importance, this region east of Tyris Mountain was called ‘Elernoa,’ meaning ‘Ellysia’s Peace.’

Historically, those independent of the royal family governed it as Dukes.

Leisure and respite—small duties for those who had not ascended the throne.

Epère Ellysia, following in the footsteps of his ancestors, became Duke of Elernoa, having renounced the throne.

And a month ago…

“This makes no sense.”

Epère tore into four pieces the letter from the royal family in frustration.

The letter listed prospective brides for Epère Ellysia.

Though most royal marriages were arranged by the palace, that was only if the person had no particular desire to marry.

But the royal family didn’t simply gather all the daughters of fallen houses and tell him to pick one.

“What kind of treatment is this?”

Fior, who always stood by Epère, carefully picked up the torn pieces.

“Perhaps you’re being cautious?”

“…Likely.”

The deep rift between the royal family and Epère had existed for a long time.

Succession disputes were common, but typically the eldest son or daughter inherited the throne if there were no major issues.

Unlike Herion, who had no talent for magic, Epère had extraordinary magical abilities from a young age.

In the magical empire of Ellysia, it was obvious who was fit to be emperor.

Naturally, people split into two factions: those insisting the eldest son should inherit, and those claiming the magically gifted Epère was more suitable.

“Even after renouncing the throne, this is still happening?”

“You know it’s only words,” Fior replied.

Being told to marry one of the declining families was likely the prince’s inner circle trying to prevent potential rebellion.

Fior assembled the torn letters on Epère’s desk, and Epère looked at them again with a frustrated expression.

“Half of them are probably already colluding with my brother.”

“Perhaps all of them.”

“Fior, start by investigating the families farthest from my brother.”

“Yes.”

“I’m not certain I’ll accept these conditions, so they probably haven’t all been contacted.”

A week later, Epère and his competent subordinate, Fior, finished investigating all the families.

It wasn’t difficult; they were all declining houses, mostly absent from society, so any contact stood out.

With six family names on his desk, Epère pondered whom to propose to.

Of course, he could refuse his brother’s suggestion, but it seemed simpler to comply.

“Which of these families won’t collude with my brother?”

“Then these two families.”

Epère looked at the last two families on the list.

“The Pelua and Yevancher families have no contact points.”

“Isn’t that true for the others too?”

At first glance, no family seemed to have contact.

“Hm… It seems the crown prince hasn’t reached the Pelua family yet.”

“That’s uncertain.”

Epère, meticulous as ever, always prepared for “just in case.”

But Fior, knowing him well, said with more certainty:

“Likely he hasn’t contacted them. Luanna Yevancher is prone to gambling.”

Epère frowned.

“Roselia Pelua already has a lover.”

He scoffed, exasperated.

“And this family’s daughter is still a minor…”

“Hm…”

“This one is rumored to be homosexual.”

“By pretending to give many options, analyzing everything, ultimately the choice left is the one my brother wants.”

Epère leaned against the window, cooling his anger against the cold glass.

“…This is tiresome.”

He sighed deeply, staring at his reflection, eyes closed, pondering the best approach.

“Fior. Propose to the Pelua family.”

“…Yes?”

“They have a lover, right? If we promise divorce in a year, even if she won’t side with me here, she won’t turn against me either.”

“Ah… yes…”

Fior trailed off, glancing at Epère for confirmation.

“Your Highness. Are you serious?”

There was pity in his voice.

“Is it really acceptable to decide marriage for such a reason?”

“Yes. If she’s desperate, she’ll cooperate.”

“No, it’s not that…”

“She’s calm-natured; she’ll follow along.”

Fior wanted to ask if he really didn’t want her to marry the person she truly loved, but seeing her master so exhausted, he stayed silent.

Epère, reading Fior’s concern, muttered softly:

“One year. Just endure one year.”

“Your Highness…”

Ignoring Fior’s pitying gaze, Epère resolved inwardly that afterward, he would truly live as he wished.