Chapter 5
[It seems even the fiercely relentless winter has finally lost its strength. The cold and stubborn persistence of winter left me unbearably lonely. The maddeningly dark and endless nights offered no respite, and to make matters worse, I lost my dear, loyal, and lovely wood pigeon. Each day was filled with sorrow.]
(Translation: Even a stubborn bastard like you has limits. I’ve had it with your pigheadedness. I almost died because of that psycho Emperor! Also, where the hell did you hide my pigeon?)
[And yet, spring has come again, Your Grace.]
(Translation: We’re back to four years ago again. Damn you.)
[The streets of Maleta are already filled with lines of new students. I keep peeking out the window, wondering if by any chance my lost pigeon might be in Maleta. Have you heard anything of him, Your Grace? His hometown is the North, and for that reason, I keep thinking of you.]
(Translation: I came all the way to Maleta myself, just in case the pigeon went to the academy again. That’s his usual respawn point. Lay a finger on him, and you’re dead.)
[I hope you will not be angry with me.]
(Translation: So now you try being pissed for once.)
[Over the long winter, I made up my mind. I will never lose myself again.]
(Translation: I’ve been ready since the last loop. I won’t let you walk over me this time.)
[With the arrival of spring, I asked His Majesty to allow me to travel north, to where you are. He kindly granted his permission, saying the bride of spring symbolizes domestic bliss and fertility. Although His Highness, the Crown Prince Heliot, strongly opposed it, I believe a swift marriage is the best path for the peace of the Veletinaum Empire.]
(Translation: As soon as I woke up, I told the Emperor I was getting married, and he raised both hands in surrender. Helio’s throwing a tantrum, but it’s a marriage that’ll happen anyway—better to get it over with and live in peace.)
[I love you, Your Grace. My one and only partner.]
(Translation: You bastard.)
[I am not worthy of Your Grace, so there’s no need for a grand engagement ceremony. As for the wedding, only the two of us need be present. Though my dowry is modest, I firmly believe the Goddess will bless us without lack. Please be prepared to receive me. I’ll see you soon.]
(Translation: We’re skipping the engagement. Wedding’s bare-bones too. Don’t expect a dowry. Clean your damn room and wait.)
[Yours, Berieta Barner Veleti.]
(Translation: From your enemy, Berieta.)
Tessarion turned to the next page and froze. Enclosed with the letter was a marriage contract signed by the Emperor, the Grand Chamberlain, and Berieta herself.
“Your Grace! I-Isn’t that… a marriage contract?!”
The chamberlain leapt in alarm, then shut his mouth tight at the look on Tessarion’s face.
“……”
Tessarion crumpled the letter and slammed his desk, sending up a fiery column like it had erupted from a flamethrower.
After a moment of silence, he turned sharply to glare at the pale-faced chamberlain.
“Still here?”
“Th-There’s one more letter.”
The chamberlain, hands trembling, held out a silver tray. On it lay a neatly squared envelope dyed deep reddish-brown, adorned with a silver goose emblem.
Tessarion furrowed his brows. That emblem… he remembered where it was from.
“Tsk.”
“Oswally…”
“You know the name? I heard it’s a house from the southern peninsula, but no one seems to know it.”
“I know it.”
How could he not?
A dragon was born into that humble house—was there anyone in the Empire who didn’t know?
Once he applied to the Royal Academy, the entire Empire would erupt over the genius of the century, a pioneer of magical theory, the first 10th Circle mage, and future Tower Master.
“So that young man was telling the truth.”
“Hm?”
“Yesterday morning, a young man asked to see you. He said he was an acquaintance and absolutely had to meet you. But we’d never heard of his house, and he was dressed oddly. He had no proof of identity, so the captain of the guard just took his letter and told him to leave. But he’s still waiting outside the castle gate for your reply. We did open the letter just in case. Was that inappropriate?”
The letter was short and to the point:
[I wish to help Duke Claremont alongside Roy Dover. Please grant me a chance to work.
– Altair Oswally.]
“……”
So, the fiancée who was supposed to be fending off Heliot’s advances in the capital was in Maleta, and the genius who should be taking the academy entrance exam in Maleta was at Claremont’s gate?
This had never happened before.
Clicking his tongue at the unexpected and swift actions of the two, Tessarion muttered:
“……”
Grrrnnk, grrrnnnk…
He glanced over at Roy, who was snoring on his desk with drool dripping down.
Tessarion stroked his chin, wondering what to do with Roy Dover.
Berieta. Altair.
Roy had died because of those two. Not once, but several times.
Even after carefully placing him in the safest region of the empire—the eastern St. Vegeteria Monastery—he still died.
Maybe a mental facility this time?
No.
He couldn’t trust anyone now.
No more letting down his guard.
“He’s giving up the academy and the Tower Master seat? That Oswally?”
Interesting.
Tessarion smirked wickedly and tossed the letter into the flames.
“Send him away.”
❖ ❖ ❖
Whoooosh—
Wind clawed the window like tree branches gone mad. Though the day hinted at spring, the temperature dropped sharply once the sun set. Hail pelted down, thunder cracked, and a violent snowstorm swept in.
Even with logs stacked in the fireplace and enchanted giant mountain goat hide insulating the room, the air outside was icy enough to turn breath to mist.
Tessarion had told me to go to bed first, but I only poked my eyes out of the blanket and kept wary watch.
Go to sleep first? Like I’d trust a lunatic like him. I wasn’t closing my eyes until he did.
Why the hell was I even sharing a bed with the male lead?
The Duke wore nothing but a thin, unbuttoned linen shirt and tight leather pants that showed off his powerful thighs, drinking with an effortless grace.
“Hoo…”
He let out a deep sigh and pressed his forehead.
Something on his mind?
Imperial Amber Reserve, aged 32 years. Even highborn nobles in the capital couldn’t get their hands on it. And here he was, downing half the bottle alone—looking like a scandalously sexy whiskey ad.
Gulp.
Wow, he looked good. If I could record this and broadcast it in the capital square, wouldn’t we hit 10 million gold in sales the first month?
As I eyed him while scheming my new business venture, he suddenly spoke.
“Do you want some?”
“…!”
I flinched and pulled the blanket up higher. He raised a brow, unimpressed.
“If not, forget it.”
Never let an opportunity roll past your nose.
“I-It would be an honor to my house!”
I shot out of bed and grabbed a glass. Nestling it between my bandaged hands with perfect form, I lifted it to him. He chuckled and poured me a drink.
“If you want something, just say so. Don’t sneak glances like a creep.”
I wasn’t creeping! I was trying to mentally prepare for sleeping in the same bed as you—again! Like I’d actually sleep! I needed to get drunk!
“I-I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I didn’t mean to stare. I just… couldn’t sleep…”
I giggled nervously and raised my glass—and froze.
He smiled kindly and poured for exactly one second.
“……”
I stared at the barely wet bottom of my glass, then glared at Tessarion.
This bastard. Is this what he meant by honoring my house?
“You’re injured. Just have a little.”
“…Yes, sir…”
I sullenly lowered my nose to the cup and sniffed at the alcohol.
