Where Is The Demon? (3)

Even after sitting down on the bench, Reichardt’s scowling face didn’t ease.

She wondered if she should go down the hill and call his adjutant instead.

“Are you all right, Your Grace?”

With a frown, Reichardt gazed into the distance, hesitating.

He cast his eyes far away, mumbling as if trying to distract himself.

“Your hand, um…”

It was rare enough to count on one hand the number of times he had spoken vaguely in his life.

Mumbling or speaking indistinctly to others was disgraceful for royalty, yet Reichardt merely grimaced and slightly extended his hand.

“My hand? Are you feeling that unwell, Your Grace?”

Alicia quickly glanced around and then gently touched the hand that had been extended toward her.

It was the third time they had held hands.

It was just holding hands.

But as soon as their hands met, her heart pounded wildly, dizzyingly, as if it were tumbling.

“You and I are doing what, exactly?”

Reichardt looked at Alicia, now with a far calmer expression.

He was the kind of man who dropped formal speech when ill—Alicia felt sure of it.

“Marriage.”

His short question was met with an equally brief answer from Alicia.

“How old are you?”

This time, his words were curt and his expression insolent.

But it was hard to criticize.

He was a royal—and the Emperor’s own brother.

“Nineteen.”

Alicia replied calmly.

“Do you know how old I am?”

“Around thirty…”

“Twenty-nine. When you were born, I was training as a knight at the Royal Academy. Two years later, I became the Grand Duke of Tessen.”

Reichardt looked utterly dumbfounded, and Alicia asked cautiously.

“Do you dislike me?”

“Do you like me? Are you proposing because you like me?”

Reichardt’s face twisted even more at Alicia’s question.

Then came her gentle murmur.

“I don’t dislike you…”

Amber eyes stared at her murmuring face for a moment, then let out a light sigh.

“Who’s someone I could just lash out at and chase away…”

Alicia had chosen the Grand Duke not as a romantic partner but as a bargaining one.

To break an almost-finalized engagement, the most effective move was to provoke rejection from the imperial family.

A marriage proposal to the Grand Duke of Tessen was a situation unlikely to win imperial approval.

Reichardt knew this was Alicia’s reasoning.

He skipped any polite pretense and confirmed the intent behind the deal.

“Gregory Barker.”

Alicia stated her goal bluntly, without embellishment.

“You’d make me risk straining ties with the Barker family for just four prophecies a year?”

It wasn’t that he didn’t find it strange.

Given the imperial family’s past actions, Alicia had expected Reichardt to accept the proposal more easily.

She’d even offered an exchange just in case.

Yet Reichardt’s attitude toward marriage remained cold and resistant.

He was the man whom the royal family desperately tried to marry off every time.

He hadn’t even made an effort, yet suitors were constantly arranged around him.

The noise and urgency came from the imperial palace.

No matter how high-ranking a royal he was, interfering with a matter the imperial court handled was difficult.

If one wanted to avoid trouble or harsh words, it made sense to accept the proposal quietly.

But the Grand Duke treated marriage as though he loathed it.

He was trying to negotiate over something as massive as prophecy.

“More than that is difficult. But why do you keep speaking to me informally?”

“How old are you?”

Alicia didn’t regret turning back time and growing younger.

It had been a chance—a good thing.

It felt like compensation for the pain of being torn apart alive.

But still, How old are you?—the question rubbed her the wrong way.

She felt like she was losing somehow.

“Nineteen.”

Alicia replied with a sulky expression.

“Exactly. I’ll deal with the Barker family. Go home and tell them you like me, Lady Alicia.”

“…Pardon?”

“Tell your family you like me. Was that unclear? Or do you expect me to say I like you? I only get four prophecies a year and I still have to confess?”

Reichardt displayed full indignation on his face.

“It’s not something that needs to be said! And it’s not just four times—it’s a whole four times. Once again, more than four is impossible.”

“You said it’s difficult, not impossible.”

“It’s impossible.”

Alicia replied with a face more serious than ever.

“Besides the Barker family, anything else you need?”

“Send the proposal on the most luxurious silk and paper the imperial family possesses.”

Alicia purposely put on the most greedy expression she could.

“I said I’d break off the engagement, not send a proposal. But if I do send one west, I’ll make sure it’s appropriately lavish. Anything else?”

“Why won’t you send the proposal? Aren’t we getting married?”

Dropping her exaggerated expression, Alicia pressed him.

“That damn marriage.”

“So are we getting married or not?”

Alicia emphasized marriage again.

“Do you understand what marriage even is, Lady Alicia? Think carefully about what it means to make a marriage vow. I’ll proceed with the process of becoming someone worthy of that vow—but we don’t need to get married right away. Besides, I doubt Lady could last three days in Tessen.”

He was pushing off the wedding itself, as if he had a phobia of it.

“Then are we engaged?”

“Yes.”

“Then I trust you’ll make sure everything is well-prepared, so the honor of the future Grand Duchess is not tarnished.”

Alicia returned to her greedy and extravagant expression.

“That’s enough for you?”

“As an engagement gift, a villa, a house, or some land would be perfectly acceptable.”

Alicia boldly said everything she wanted without hesitation.

“Only four lousy prophecies a year…”

“A whole four. No more than that.”

Reichardt grumbled his dissatisfaction, and Alicia instantly shifted her tone, whispering sternly with a sharp expression.

The man who had been wearing a grim expression finally let out a dry laugh at his future fiancée’s whisper.

He gently withdrew his hand from Alicia’s grasp.

“Thank you for your help.”

“I’m glad I could be of help.”

Alicia didn’t know what kind of help she had given.

She was curious what kind of help it had been, but she couldn’t bring herself to ask.

The moment their hands separated, Reichardt’s brow furrowed slightly.

His expression bothered her, but she didn’t show it.

Though his brows were clearly knit in effort to conceal it, his lips held a faint smile.

“I hope we both keep to our terms. Shall we go?”

“Yes.”

Alicia answered without hesitation.

“I’ll escort you to the road leading to the Rain Family’s territory.”

“Thank you for your kindness.”

As she offered her formal thanks, Alicia found herself thinking that this was what real help looked like.

The day Alicia returned from the Dolore ruins, an imperial summons arrived for the Marquess of Rain to appear at the palace.

Such a sudden summons was rare.

The Marquess wasn’t the only one summoned.

The order was also sent to Count Barker in his northern estate.

“Both heads of house are to report to the palace at once.”

By the Emperor’s solemn decree, the Marquess departed his estate in the middle of the night and rode straight to the capital.

He traveled day and night for four days to arrive and report his readiness to enter the palace.

Count Barker had also sent word ahead that he would arrive promptly.

Both the Marquess of Rain and Count Barker understood that being summoned together likely meant a matter related to the engagement.

Among the nobility, one was expected to receive the imperial family’s approval before finalizing a formal engagement.

In the past, the imperial family had been deeply involved in political marriages, but these days it was mostly a formality.

Some nobles living far from the capital had even begun skipping the step entirely.

They both guessed it was about the engagement, but neither lord had any idea what was about to happen.

Typically, the imperial response to a marriage request was issued via letter, so they only found it odd that they were summoned in person.

Only in very special cases did the imperial family summon both parties to grant personal congratulations.

However, no such permission had yet been granted to either house, and more importantly, this engagement was not considered special.

The two lords were granted audience seven days after the summons.

Inside the Grand Hall of Audience, the Marquess and Count offered their formal bows to the Emperor.

After receiving their greetings, the Emperor spoke plainly.

“That marriage is not approved.”

There was no explanation, no praise for the lords who had come such a long way.

Seated like a painting on his lavish throne, the Emperor spoke briefly, rose, and walked away.

There wasn’t even a chance to protest.

The Emperor didn’t allow so much as a word to be spoken in return.

Such was the nature of royalty.

The two lords left the audience chamber with grim faces.

Yet their shock and silence lasted only a moment.

Valdemar, the Marquess of Rain, had the archetypal face of a northern man.

Skin so pale it looked bloodless, jet-black hair and eyes.

A sharp jawline, and no expression—his cold appearance made him seem even more emotionless.

That stoic face finally opened its lips.

“It seems this is where the connection ends.”

“So it does.”

Neither the Marquess nor the Count expressed regret first over the broken engagement.

Nor did they commit the impiety of questioning the Emperor’s decision.

“Farewell, Count.”

“May your journey be safe.”

Count Barker, who until yesterday expected to become the Marquess’s in-law, at least offered a polite farewell.

“I intend to remain in the capital for a while.”

For the reticent Marquess to voluntarily share his plans was uncharacteristic.

“Is that so? I hope we cross paths again.”

“If opportunity allows.”

Count Barker replied with courtesy, then turned toward the attendant who would guide him.

But the attendant led him not toward the exit, but toward the inner palace.

As he followed, Count Barker glanced back and gave the Marquess another respectful nod.

The Marquess replied with only a flick of his eyes.

“Looks like that family had an appointment of their own.”

The Marquess murmured, his gaze still fixed on the Count.

“Please follow me.”

The chief attendant standing at the door signaled to the others.

The doors to the Grand Hall of Audience opened once more.

The Marquess straightened his attire and stepped back inside.

After receiving permission to enter the palace, he had been given one more order: not to leave the capital after his audience.

Because of that, he had refrained from acting rashly, sensing something odd was at play.

Still, he never imagined the royal family would go so far as to reject an engagement that was all but finalized.

Nor did he expect that, upon returning to the audience chamber, he would formally receive a marriage proposal from the imperial family.

When he learned that the proposed match was between the Grand Duke of Tessen and Alicia, he could no longer keep his composure.

His face, known for being unreadable, stiffened noticeably—and he showed it all before the Emperor.

With a gentle expression, the Emperor said they wouldn’t proceed with the wedding immediately.

Since Alicia was young, he suggested the marriage take place two years later.

Though phrased as a suggestion, it was essentially a command.