“It’s not magic…”

“Let’s call it that. This is getting tiresome.”

Kahar released her and rose to his feet. He narrowed his eyes watching her gather herself and sit up.

Not fixing her tangled hair and just leaving it to fall over her face reminded him of someone again.

Sensing a power similar to Lani’s was surely an illusion.

The full moon rose and his body wasn’t right, so he simply got confused by a woman with a similar face.

“Don’t let me see you again.”

Kahar walked away from her quickly. When he reached the edge of the forest, a shadow dropped from a tree.

“Your Highness, shall I find out who she is?”

“Leave it.”

“Even so, just in case…”

“Get out of my way. Get that disgusting face away from me.”

She was a woman he would have no reason to see after today anyway. Kahar planned to visit the Chloe Ducal House at first light.

***

An hour ago, Grand Duke Kahar sent word that he would arrive at the castle shortly and then descended on them, and the Chloe Ducal House erupted into chaos like it was on fire.

Duchess Katrina urgently deployed staff around the central hall and reception room and prepared food suited to the Grand Duke’s taste.

Duke Dexter, who was in the capital on new business, had to rush onto an underground carriage to return to the territory.

The underground carriage was a magical means of transport that drastically cut travel time, but had the drawback of being an enclosed space.

Duke Dexter, who hated confined spaces, felt nauseated every time he rode the underground carriage.

The moment he arrived at the territory, Duke Dexter was smoking bitter sottgrass tobacco to settle his lurching stomach and maintaining his composure.

Sitting across from that Duke Chloe, leisurely sipping tea, was Grand Duke Kahar de Diozart.

Young blood who rose to the Grand Duke’s seat at a young age and ran wild without fear of anything in the world.

Kahar, who took after his father’s brilliance and his mother’s strength in equal measure, was someone even other men envied.

But today was not a day to admire him. It was a day to negotiate. Duke Dexter was in a position of complete submission before Grand Duke Kahar, willing to lick his boots over the matter of Viviana.

It was hard to speak loudly in a structure where the power balance was already decided, but either way, the fact that he came here meant the marriage was confirmed.

At the very least, he could probably secure a mine or two. This was why having many children paid off.

Duke Dexter took a long drag of the sottgrass tobacco and exhaled, breaking the silence.

“I cannot say how surprised I was when I heard Your Highness would come in person.”

“I should have sent word that I was arriving soon.”

“Even so, I did not expect you this quickly. Please forgive any lack of preparation.”

The marriage with Kahar fell apart over Viviana’s affair. How desperately he clung on just to survive.

After that, he had to become the Emperor’s dog to push the marriage forward again.

Duke Dexter needed the marriage with Kahar badly. The duck grass, the raw material for the new wool business he started, grew only in the frozen lands of the Grand Duchy.

Without Kahar’s permission, he couldn’t even purchase duck grass in bulk, let alone farm it.

It was a matter of life and death for the Chloe Ducal House, whose business recently stalled, so this marriage absolutely had to happen.

To what degree, he was willing to offer not a daughter but a son if Kahar was amenable, just to make the marriage happen.

“The daughter to wed Your Highness is named Shal. She is the same age as Viviana and a beauty. Though not born of the Duchess, she is quite clever. She graduated from the magic academy as second in her class.”

Shal possessed divine power but had no talent for painting, so she changed course to magic school. Divine power and magical ability shared many similarities, and Shal was able to hone her talent faster than ordinary people.

But Kahar set down his teacup without a sound and seemed to have no particular interest in this.

“I heard you were preparing a funeral not long ago.”

“A funeral?”

“Was I wrong?”

“Ah, are you perhaps referring to Meliciel’s funeral?”

Kahar’s blue eyes quietly closed in on Duke Dexter. Not knowing when those eyes might shift, Duke Dexter swallowed dryly.

“I heard she came back to life just before death.”

“Yes. That is correct. But why that child…”

“I intend to take that lady as my Grand Duchess.”

“Pardon?”

Duke Dexter couldn’t manage his expression for the shock, while Kahar was perfectly composed, as though he thought this through in advance.

“Using magic is not to my taste, and having divine power or a maternal family with influence is undesirable. Frequent social, business, or public connections are also unwelcome.”

“So Meliciel…”

“I understand that the lady meets the conditions. Am I wrong?”

But Meliciel was simply a half-wit and a half-cripple. Unlike the dancers who held some degree of influence within the ducal house, Meliciel’s mother was a new dancer.

On top of that, she died right after giving birth. There was no reason Meliciel would have any power.

Furthermore, Meliciel spent her entire life bedridden, and her social functioning was markedly limited.

Valt raved about her being a genius, but in practice, students who received painting instruction often failed to express even a fraction of their ability and faded into obscurity, so he held no great expectations.

The reason he sent her to the tower recently was that he worried his other children might stir up unnecessary trouble over Meliciel, who came back from the dead.

The ducal house’s children already secured their own positions. So Meliciel, suddenly rising from her sickbed, was an unexpected complication.

He was thoroughly sick of his children slashing at each other, spreading discord, and getting in each other’s way.

“Are you truly certain about Meliciel?”

Duke Dexter asked with a sour expression, unable to welcome the news outright.

The intent to refuse a maternal family connection for the Grand Duchess was clear, but still, wasn’t this too poor a deal for Grand Duke Kahar?

Shal’s mother was a dancer, but she came from a fallen noble family. Shal was a far better match than a half-wit.

“From my position, all the Duke needs is proof that a marriage took place. Along with appropriate compensation.”

The words cut right to the heart of it, and Duke Dexter felt a jolt, but stroked his mustache and worked to keep his expression neutral.

“Ahem, how could there be any objection? I will proceed however Your Highness wishes.”

Whatever the case, the wedding had to be held quickly, before Kahar changed his mind.

“Where is that woman now?”

“I apologize. Meliciel is not at the castle at present. She should be at a nearby villa.”

“Bring her.”

“Right now?”

“Then should I go myself?”

Insane Grand Duke. The blue eyes looking at Duke Dexter were sharp as a blade’s edge.

“I’ll take a short walk until she arrives.”

“She cannot come that quickly.”

“No. She will. Before I finish my walk.”

Duke Dexter felt a dull ache at the back of his head from the awkwardness, but kept it off his face and called a servant to summon Meliciel.

“And put out that wretched tobacco.”

Kahar smiled quietly, and Duke Dexter coughed and coughed.

“She’ll be here and then I’ll leave immediately. The wedding will be held on our side, informally.”

“You mean to take Meliciel with you right away?”

“Any problem?”

Good or bad, even Duke Dexter couldn’t hide his baffled expression this time.

***

From the moment she saw Kahar again, Meliciel threw herself into work with barely any sleep. The art supplies Valt brought were, in a way, an escape.

Meliciel didn’t set down her brush and paints for a single moment.

She came face to face with Kahar, spoke with him, and their skin touched. It really was him.

Kahar seemed sharper than before, but even in the past he suspected everyone who approached him.

He seemed to misread Meliciel as having some other intention too, but that didn’t matter to her.

“I wonder if he’s better now.”

Two days passed since she met Kahar, so his fever must have come down.

Bang bang bang.

Someone knocked urgently on the door and, without waiting for an answer, flung Meliciel’s door wide open. It was Valt.

He rushed into the room and spotted the paintings propped up all around, and his eyes went wide.

“Did, did the young lady really paint all of these?”

“…Yes.”

“Really? That’s impossible!”

Valt clutched his shaggy hair and acted like a man in a panic. Meliciel put the brush she was holding into the oil jar and walked to the sink to wash her hands.

After meeting Kahar, she poured out painting after painting, driven by surging inspiration and divine power, longing and pain, and worry for him, but she was at her limit now.

Her body desperately needed rest. Come to think of it, since meeting Kahar, she barely put anything in her mouth aside from a few sips of water.

She wanted to drink some warm soup and go to sleep.

“This technique… you came up with this yourself? Without being taught?”

Valt couldn’t pull himself away from the paintings, visibly astonished. Back in the Nail of God tribe, her painting skill was already at the highest level in the world.

She was a divine singer recognized for technical skill rather than emotional expression, so once she regained the feel in her fingers, painting the way she wanted was not difficult.

“I, I can’t believe it.”

Valt turned his head sharply and looked at Meliciel.

A small frame. Trembling eyes. A sickly young lady filled with an uneasy air. That she painted something this vast was a complete mystery to him.