Maximilian Calypse paced anxiously in the drawing room.
So overwhelmed with tension, she didn’t even realize she was biting her nails until she heard the sharp tap of a cane striking the floor as Duke Croixo entered. Startled, Maxi hurriedly hid both hands behind her back.
“Haven’t I warned you countless times about that filthy habit?”
“I—I’m s-sorry…”
At her father’s frigid tone, Maxi bowed her head low. Clicking his tongue, the Duke looked down in disgust.
“Do not disgrace me. You have seized a fortune beyond your station. If you bring shame upon this house with your sordid behavior, I will not forgive you.”
Cold sweat trickled down her back. Stiff with fear, she forced herself to speak.
“I—I will do as f-father says… A-as soon as he arrives…”
She didn’t have to look up to know what expression he wore. Whenever she spoke, he always looked at her as if she were an insect. Maxi tried her best to continue calmly.
“I-I will t-try to p-persuade him. To c-continue this m-marriage…”
“Enough!”
Duke Croixo struck the floor with his cane.
“Can you not, for one day, no, for a few hours at least, conduct yourself with composure? What man would want a wife who can’t even speak properly!”
“I—I…”
“Riftan Calypse is no longer some lowborn, petty knight! He’s one of the continent’s foremost sword masters and the hero who slew the Red Dragon, Sektor! If he wishes it, the temple will gladly issue a decree of divorce.”
As if the very thought were intolerable, he clutched his brow and heaved a loud, ragged breath.
“The young lady of House Croixo cannot be cast off by a knight of common birth! I will not allow this family to become a laughingstock because of a foolish daughter.”
She bit her lip. A protest, ‘It isn’t my fault,’ rose to her throat. She had never wanted to marry Riftan Calypse. Nor had Riftan Calypse wanted it. It was Duke Croixo who had forced through a marriage no one desired.
As if reading her rebellious thought, her father sneered coldly.
“If only you were half as beautiful as Rosetta… No, if only you were at least normal, we wouldn’t have to grovel to keep that man appeased!”
At the image of her half-sister, lovely as a single rose, what little defiance she’d mustered crumbled like sand. Staring down at her blanched face, Duke Croixo added mercilessly.
“Even if King Reuben wishes to take him as a royal son-in-law, it ends the moment the man refuses! This situation is all because you failed to win his heart!”
“B-but… h-he left for the f-front the d-day after the w-wedding…”
She was about to argue that she’d had no chance to win his heart, barely even to speak with him, when her vision flashed white. Struck in the ribs by his cane, Maxi doubled over, gasping. It hurt so much she couldn’t even scream.
“Don’t you dare talk back to me. Just the thought of that wretched way you speak makes my blood boil!”
Terrified another blow would fall, she bobbed her head quickly. The Duke, lips twitching as if to fling more venom, spun toward the door at the sound of a knock. Beyond it came a maid’s calm voice.
“My lord, the Remdragon Knights have arrived.”
“Show them to the drawing room!”
Maxi looked up at her father with a face drained of color. Between clenched teeth, he snarled a threat.
“Make it clear to Calypse that this marriage cannot be annulled. I’ll say it again, if you disgrace this house, you will pay the price.”
He then strode out of the drawing room. She staggered to the window and leaned against it, holding her breath as she waited for the pain to pass.
The flood of autumn sunlight stabbed at her eyes. She barely swallowed her tears. Crying would not improve anything. It would only make her feel more wretched.
Maxi clasped her trembling hands tightly. She had to pull herself together. For a noblewoman, divorce was tantamount to a death sentence. It wasn’t merely the woman becoming a laughingstock, it was the disgrace of the entire house, an unthinkable dishonor.
To wash away such shame, a male of the family would have to challenge Riftan Calypse to a duel. But her father had no sons, and among his kin or vassal knights there was no one who could stand against Riftan.
Who could oppose a swordsman who had slain a dragon? In the end, the Ducal house’s honor would be sullied, and her father would never forgive her. She might even lose her life before a formal divorce could proceed. Her father was capable of that.
‘So that it doesn’t come to that, somehow…’
But would that man even listen to her?
Teetering on the edge of a precipice, she bit her lip. Their marriage had been arranged solely for the convenience of Duke Croixo and his vassal knights.
Three years ago, when news spread across the continent that the Red Dragon Sektor had awakened from hibernation in the Lexus Mountains, El Nuima Reuben III commanded his vassals to join the subjugation campaign.
Naturally, Duke Croixo should have led his knights to war. But by marrying her to Riftan Calypse, her father foisted that duty onto him.
She shuddered, recalling the humiliating whispers of the guests on her wedding day. Riftan, then a lowly knight, had been unable to defy the Duke’s orders and was dragged to the ceremony. She couldn’t even imagine the anger and humiliation he must have felt. All she’d felt was fear at the expression he wore, as if holding something savage in check.
‘If only I were half as beautiful as Rose… Would his feelings have softened?’
Her thoughts turned self-lacerating. Riftan Calypse was a man of striking looks. Even Rosetta, who had mocked his low birth, had blushed when she saw him properly attired in the Remdragon Knights’ dress uniform.
Riftan could have courted as many lovely ladies as he pleased. In the eyes of such a man, there was no chance a stuttering woman with nothing remarkable about her would catch his attention—least of all now, when his origins no longer posed any obstacle.
‘On the verge of marrying the King’s daughter… There’s no way he’ll change his mind because of my pleading.’
They had spent only a single night together. The very next day, without so much as a word of farewell, Riftan departed for the front, and after that he never sent even a single letter. She doubted he even regarded her as his wife.
Cradling her face in her hands in bleak despair, she heard a grim voice bore into her ears.
“Quite a sight.”
Maxi jerked her head up in alarm. She hadn’t noticed when he’d appeared, but a man with a giant’s build stood in the doorway, glaring at her.
“A wife trembling as she awaits a husband returned alive from the front.”
He jeered as he approached in slow, soundless steps. She forgot to breathe as she took him in. In a deep blue tunic reminiscent of monastic garb, with silver greaves strapped on, Riftan Calypse looked even larger and more imposing than she remembered.
“I wasn’t expecting a rapturous welcome, but you don’t have to quake like the plague’s walked in.”
At that icy remark, Maxi finally came to her senses. The thought that she’d managed to offend him in under a minute drained the blood from her face.
“I—I’m g-glad you r-returned s-safe…”
What was she supposed to say? How should she address him?
Riftan? That felt too intimate. Sir Calypse? He would only scoff. As she faltered, she suddenly felt the weight of his intense gaze raking over her. Flustered, she took a step back.
She had no idea why he was looking at her like that. As she unconsciously edged away, his face seemed to grow even colder. He snatched her arm and muttered, voice rough.
“At least pretend you’re happy to see me.”
She froze. Their bodies nearly touched. The scents of leather, horse, and a faint trace of sweat pricked her nose. At that masculine smell, memories she’d kept buried for three years flashed, vivid and sharp, across her mind.
The uncanny heat radiating from his solid body. The piercing gaze that felt like it could spear straight through her skull. He had looked down at her with the very same eyes that day too—like a hunting dog moments before tearing into raw meat…
She hastily lowered her eyes. Her face burned as if scalded. Once the floodgates opened, the memories surged unchecked, overflowing. The events of that night felt as fresh as if they’d happened yesterday.
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