❀❀❀

The groom arrived minutes before the ceremony was to begin, still wearing a blood-stained military uniform.

Eldrich removed his cap immediately.

“Commander……! I mean, Your Grace!”

A subordinate who had followed him in quickly held out a jacket. Eldrich narrowed his eyes at the man.

“Is there a problem with a soldier getting married in uniform?”

“……No, sir.”

The subordinate stepped back. Eldrich crossed the hall to where Cleve stood alone. The scent of grass was so thick it made her feel she had stepped into a forest, and she found herself drawn to it without meaning to be.

‘Grass……’

She turned her head carefully and caught sight of several medals pinned to the black military jacket. The mottled stains were almost certainly marks from the battlefield.

Raising her gaze a little further, she found his face, expressionless. It made it impossible to tell what he was feeling, standing here.

‘Don’t think about it. You never have before.’

Whatever his reasons, he must have wanted something from this marriage. That was why he had agreed to become her fourth husband.

He would be no different from the ones before. As always, he would die before the wedding night was over.

‘What kind of death awaits the fourth husband, I wonder. Well, he’s a soldier. Maybe he’ll last a little longer.’

Cleve had long since given up, but she let herself lean on that faint hope.

Eldrich Devonshire. He was the head of House Devonshire and held the position of supreme commander.

He was also the openly acknowledged illegitimate son of the late Duke Devonshire.

Perhaps, with people refusing to recognize what he had rightfully earned because of his birth, he intended to cement his standing through a marriage to the marquisate.

Cleve tightened her grip on the bouquet in her hands.

The battlefield was dangerous. But so was her side. Once they reached the residence, there would be time in transit, and plenty of time still before the wedding night. If she had to witness another death before they became a proper couple……

Cleve squeezed her eyes shut as though she had already seen something terrible.

His death played out vividly in her mind.

So she leaned close and whispered, just low enough for him to hear.

“……It’s not too late, even now. If you want to call off the wedding, now is the time.”

A marriage to her might bring him dishonor. He was someone who had delivered victory after victory in war. Unlike what she imagined, his illegitimate birth was probably no mark against him at all.

She had heard the officiant’s words until they rang in her ears. She simply listened for Eldrich’s voice beside her.

“Answer first.”

“Pardon?”

Eldrich gave a small nod toward the officiant. Cleve exhaled softly and answered.

“……Yes. I do.”

Vows like this are meaningless. What does any of it matter in the face of death.

‘Think of it as a good thing, Cleve.’

At least she would be free of that suffocating house. Maybe she could finally breathe.

She let out a short sigh. Eldrich’s turn came next. He answered the moment the officiant finished speaking.

“I do. Are we done?”

“Pardon? Yes.”

The officiant answered, flustered. Eldrich lifted the veil from Cleve’s face and folded it back. Then his arm wrapped around her waist.

“What, what are you doing?”

Cleve startled and turned to him. His crimson eyes curved into crescents.

“A kiss.”

The soft pressure on her lips hadn’t even faded before his tongue pushed into her mouth.

“Mmph!”

Cleve bit down on instinct, and the taste of iron spread between them both.

She had been blinking in a daze. Now she stared at the man right in front of her. Her heart was pounding, and the world around her seemed to slow.

Only those crimson eyes, holding her completely, stayed sharp in the middle of all the confusion.

❀❀❀

Hair as black as a midnight sky. Eyes as red as a burning flame. Cleve kept stealing glances at Eldrich’s face.

She fanned herself with her hand, trying to cool the heat rising to her cheeks.

‘My heart is going to burst.’

The pounding drumming against her eardrums was enough to make her dizzy.

He stared out at the guests with the same blank expression. Whether he was tired or simply bored, she couldn’t tell.

He had kissed her and looked completely unaffected. Cleve’s gaze dropped. She clutched her dress and willed the flush on her face to fade.

‘Don’t be foolish. It meant nothing to him, and here I am making something of it.’

Cleve lifted her head and scanned the room. Her eyes landed on her brother, Hereis. She looked away immediately.

‘Don’t provoke him.’

He had been against this marriage. The sole reason being that the groom was Eldrich Devonshire, and her brother had been on edge all morning because of it.

He had warned her that marrying a soldier would make her life difficult, that soldiers were all rough and treated their wives harshly.

“I cannot for the life of me understand why the duke would want to marry you.”

Cleve had never met Duke Eldrich before. The crown prince had ordered him to marry her as a reward for leading the kingdom to victory in war, hadn’t he?

‘If not that, why else would the duke have agreed.’

It makes no sense.

The conditions Hereis had set for Cleve on the marriage market were far steeper than those placed on other ladies. Yet people still came forward with proposals, drawn by her looks and her family name.

After Cleve was born, her mother’s health declined, and she died the year Cleve turned fifteen. Her father and brother had always been quick to blame her for it.

Her father acted as though Hereis alone, who would carry on the Chartres name, was his only hope.

“Hereis. Everything in the Chartres family is yours. Even Cleve’s fate rests in your hands.”

“Hereis, you’ll make a fine head of the family. You’ll guide your lacking sister well.”

With those words, her father handed everything over to Hereis and followed her mother out of the world.

When the Marquis and Marchioness Chartres passed, deep sympathy settled among the people. And thanks to the reputation the couple had built, Hereis enjoyed no small number of privileges.

Hereis, now head of the family, treated Cleve as though she were his property. Whenever she made even the smallest move toward freedom, he would press her with their father’s words and pull her back.

“Cleve. This is a chance for you to be of use to the Chartres family too. Your parents would be proud of you.”

Those words were enough to keep her in line. Fortunately, after everything that had happened, the flood of marriage proposals had slowed.

The thought that she might finally be done with marriage had quietly relieved her. She felt as though all the terrible things that had happened were her fault, and she didn’t want anyone else to get hurt.

‘Maybe I really am cursed.’

So naturally, she worried about Duke Devonshire too.

“Is something troubling you?”

“……Ah, no. If anything, I’m the one who wants to ask. Aren’t you worried, Your Grace?”

“About what.”

Duke Devonshire asked without any particular interest. His expression gave no sign of concern.

“……Every man who has married me has either died or gone missing.”

“I know.”

“You might be the same.”

“Hmm. You seem to think I’m going to die.”

Cleve shook her head firmly. She didn’t want anyone else to die at her side.

“Please don’t die. I don’t want to hold a fourth funeral.”

“Ha. So the funeral was what you were worried about.”

“Don’t laugh. I’m serious.”

“Don’t worry. Plenty of men have been desperate to k*ll me, but not one of them has ever managed to take my head.”

He was the proof of victory, undefeated on every battlefield. Every unit he led returned with minimal losses.

Cleve looked at his rough hands. They were calloused all over from gripping a sword, and each knuckle jutted out, his fingers a full joint longer than hers.

Then her gaze moved to Eldrich’s bloodstained clothes. The wedding had been rushed because her brother had insisted it had to be today. If the duke had not returned from the battlefield, the whole thing would have fallen apart. Perhaps that was exactly what Hereis had been counting on.

‘How many battlefields has he been through.’

She felt a quiet pang for him too. He was celebrated by the people, yet he still had to carry the label of illegitimate son. To be recognized, he had to keep proving himself without rest.

“The blood on my clothes isn’t mine.”

“……Oh.”

She felt relieved before she even realized it. He had risen to supreme commander from an illegitimate birth. He wouldn’t die easily.