Affectionate In Public

Due to pressure from the royal family, the wedding of Lucien de Broy and Marguerite Clavel was held the following month.

Surprisingly, there was no formal meeting between the two houses beforehand.

Thanks to that, the scar on her face went unseen, but reaching the wedding day without even exchanging greetings only reinforced how deep the rift between the two houses truly was.

Over the course of that month, Marguerite compiled documents detailing the management of the portions of the territory she had overseen as her father Maurice’s aide.

She listed the climate, local specialties, and major trading partners of each village and town, and recorded the vision they should aim for three years hence, along with the projects currently being prioritized.

‘If only Father would look over them…’

From the moment it was decided that she would marry into House de Broy, the attitudes of Maurice and Isabella grew even colder. Saying there was nothing to teach someone who would become an enemy, they forbade Marguerite from corresponding with the territory at all.

As a result, Marguerite could not even inform the officials that she would be stepping down from management upon marriage, and as a last resort, she created those documents to serve as a handover.

Even on the day of the wedding, the obstinate attitudes of Maurice and Isabella did not change.

They continued to despise and look down upon House de Broy, despite becoming relatives in name.

It seemed House de Broy felt the same way.

The wedding of Lucien and Marguerite was an unusually simple affair.

Ordinarily, a noble wedding would double as a grand reception, inviting relatives from both houses and nobles from neighboring territories, but all of that was cut away without hesitation. Lavish meals and splendid decorations were also omitted.

Before a royal representative, the Minister of the Interior, and a priest, members of House de Broy and House Clavel gathered, and the bride and groom merely made their vows.

Even those vows simply declared that the two had become husband and wife; words of eternal love or cherishing one’s partner were omitted. There was no ceremonial kiss.

In short, the goal was simply to complete the ritual of marriage.

Only the royal representative wore an expression of profound satisfaction.

It was Queen Emilenne Filienne herself. With several members of the royal family in attendance as her retinue, including Third Prince Noel Filienne, the ceremony was of exceedingly high rank in formality alone.

‘So this is Queen Emilenne…’

Gazing at Emilenne, dignified in a simple dress, Marguerite caught her breath.

Her sharply defined features and pointed chin seemed to proclaim her strength.

Seated at a position higher than the bride and groom, Emilenne surveyed the attendees and then broke into a smile.

“I am truly delighted by the union of House de Broy and House Clavel. I hope the young couple will live in close harmony and wipe away the misunderstandings of the past. Lucien! Marguerite!”

Calling their names crisply, Emilenne stepped down from her chair, leaving the flustered Minister of the Interior behind.

Lucien and Marguerite, who had been listening while standing straight, hurriedly bowed as well. Placing her hands on their shoulders and lifting their faces, Emilenne smiled brightly.

“Live in close harmony, yes—close har-mo-ny.”

“We understand.”

With Emilenne’s face drawn close, Marguerite bowed alongside Lucien, trembling with awe.

She was far more formidable than Marguerite had imagined.

“Now then! Let us celebrate the departure of this young couple!”

At Emilenne’s raised-armed declaration, applause broke out—

But as the clapping thinned and the royals departed, the wedding ended just as abruptly.

Members of House de Broy and House Clavel, despite becoming relatives, left without exchanging a single word.

Marguerite understood the reason.

Though Emilenne had emphasized harmony, this wedding could hardly be taken as such. It was a private affair, with many rituals omitted.

The ceremony itself reflected both houses’ reluctance, while the queen’s words were merely for show.

They had to be affectionate— but only in public.

In places unseen by others, it seemed permissible that nothing would change so quickly.

‘What in the world is the queen thinking…?’

Marguerite glanced at Lucien beside her.

But his deep navy eyes did not reflect her, and he too promptly left the hall.

After hesitating for a moment, Marguerite followed in the direction Lucien had gone.

Among the few attendees, she was the only one whose home had changed that day.

The de Broy ducal residence in the Royal Capital was, as expected, larger and more ornate than her family home.

What especially captured Marguerite’s heart were the blue gemstones used in the interior carvings and furnishings. Catching the sunlight and casting pale patterns on the walls, they seemed to boast of the sea itself.

‘How beautiful… In the Kingdom of Linesh, only the royal family and House de Broy possess lands bordering the sea. Perhaps they have brought their longing for the sea into the capital as well.’

So engrossed was Marguerite that she failed to notice the servants guiding her remained completely silent and discourteous, or that she was being led away from the area with the main bedrooms and guest rooms toward a northern annex.

Climbing a long staircase, she finally sensed something was amiss—and then found her eyes captured once more by the sight before her.

‘A library… and it even has specimens.’

Opening the door revealed a cylindrical wall rising through an open atrium, packed densely with books. Walkways ran along each level, and artworks and specimens occupied the central space.

“This will be Lady Marguerite’s bedroom.”

The servant turned curtly and pointed to a small room set beside the library.

Perhaps a caretaker had once lived there. Now, no one remained, and only a dusty bed lay inside.

It hardly seemed a bedroom befitting the wife of the future head of the house.

The servant waited for Marguerite to grow angry and demand a divorce.

But Marguerite said nothing.

That was only natural, considering she had lived in far worse conditions at House Clavel.

“Yes, thank you.”

At Marguerite’s simple nod, offered without a trace of displeasure, the servant stared at her in stunned silence.