Chapter 1.1

Chapter 1.1

It was the wedding day of the Wallenstein Grand Ducal House and the Ruthenberg Marquisate.

As the torrential rain subsided, the clear chime of glass bells finally reached her ears, carried on the quiet air.

Dazzling chandelier light spilled onto the pristine white marble.

Red carpet.

Layered peony petals scattered across it. Over them, the bride took her steps.

However, the bride’s face, which should have been adorned with a joyful smile, was somehow etched with deep sorrow.

Fortunately, her thick veil concealed it, but her steps were nothing short of the turning point of a person’s destiny.

The extreme tension she felt had a separate reason, and it was none other than the identity of the man she was marrying.

Grand Duke Caesar Wallenstein.

The Emperor’s sole nephew and the third in line for the imperial throne. He was one of the empire’s most renowned beauties and a magnate who commanded immense wealth.

Rumors circulated that every brick laid in the capital, Trannel, passed through his ledgers, and the number of mines he owned was too many to count on ten fingers.

Coupled with his exceptional looks, his name inevitably became the constant center of social gossip.

Given that such a man was marrying Lady Adelia, who was dubbed the “filly of the aristocracy,” it was no surprise that deep sighs escaped from the ladies among the guests. They glanced at the veiled bride, covering their mouths with fans as they murmured in low voices.

“That lady in the veil is the famous Marchioness, isn’t she?”

“Yes, that’s right. For that wild lady to become the Grand Duchess…”

“The Grand Duke is so pitiful… an unwanted marriage by imperial command. If only they had settled the marriage talks earlier…”

“Shh! They’ll hear us! They’ll hear us!”

Not only did she hear them, but their words pierced her ears.

No matter how much they covered their mouths with fans, how could she not hear them when they spoke so loudly?

But they weren’t the only ones whispering about the bride.

The nobles in the guest seats exchanged whispers, gossiping about the Grand Ducal wedding, and quite a few narrowed their brows and shook their heads.

It was an unusual, incongruous sight for a wedding that should have been filled with joy.

Finally, with everyone’s attention, the man appeared, enveloping the bride’s hand and leading her forward.

Though his face wasn’t clearly visible beneath the veil, his mere presence beside her exuded an overwhelming aura.

Hundreds of eyes in the guest seats were fixated on the man’s face, unable to tear away.

His brilliant platinum hair, symbolizing the Imperial Family, cascaded down as if imbued with light, and his silvery-gray eyes, meticulously crafted like top-grade diamonds, held a subtle, profound glow.

At the sight of the dazzlingly perfect groom, people’s regret deepened further.

In the midst of an atmosphere so solemn that even breathing seemed subdued, she stole a glance at the man holding her hand.

His indifferent gaze held no emotion; his eyes were profoundly dry.

Step by step. Even in his measured strides, she sensed boredom.

He just wanted this formal ceremony to end quickly.

The bride, holding his hand, was not unaware of his unaccommodating stride or the discomfort it caused. She was simply trapped in a cycle of even deeper thoughts.

She felt unnatural in every way, like someone wearing clothes that didn’t fit.

The voluminous dress, layered though it seemed, pressed down on her body, and her stiff, rigid arms and legs made even matching his stride a torment.

Stumble—

Eventually, she tripped, staggering as if she would fall at any moment.

At the sudden occurrence, Caesar instantly pulled the bride’s hand he was holding and firmly gripped her waist. It was a fleeting, instinctive reaction; his body moved first.

Her face, suddenly confronted with his so close, instantly flushed crimson.

The thought that everything would have been revealed without the veil made her clench her right fist until her knuckles turned red.

“Careful.”

His sweet voice resonated in her ear.

It was an extremely tender scene: the groom catching his nearly-falling bride. Guests covered their mouths with one hand, letting out soft gasps.

At the same time, the terribly handsome man’s face gazed into Adelia’s veiled one. His gaze held no affection, not even a speck of interest.

The current situation was to him merely an act akin to moving furniture or picking up a sword about to fall. Embarrassed by her needlessly flushed face, Adelia regained her composure and continued walking.

Soon, the seemingly perfect pair reached the altar. The officiant, standing upon it, looked at the bride and groom with a pleased expression and began his address.

“On this bright day, blessed by God, a beautiful couple is born. Here today, before countless witnesses and under the blessings of heaven, do you both vow to choose each other through changing seasons and long periods, no matter what trials come, and to love each other eternally until the end of your lives?”

“I do.”

“…”

It was the moment for the bride’s answer.

But an awkward silence followed. Her lips remained sealed due to tension.