It was a clear, sunny day, as though even the heavens had bestowed their blessing.

The union of Castoria of Montagna and Bellaris of Il Mare.

This was undoubtedly a cause for celebration, signifying a fresh start after the two houses had settled the discord that had persisted since the empire’s founding. Though if one were to ask the two people at the center of this marriage, a very different answer might come back.

The families had dressed it up in the flattering language of harmony and unity, but strip away that shell and it was nothing more than a political marriage between two rival houses. The odds that either party held any positive feelings toward this union were very low indeed.

“Valentino di Castoria, of the House Castoria of Montagna.”

The officiating pastor called the man’s name.

Yuria Bellaris, who would soon take the Castoria name, looked up at the face of the man who was to be her husband. Dark brown hair swept neatly back, and beneath it, sharp eyes with green irises. His well-defined nose and soft mouth came together in a way that led many to call him a natural beauty.

It was a far better reality than the jokes her brothers used to tease her with, things like he was so hideously ugly no one could bear to look him in the face, or that he looked like the sort who could k*ll a man or two without batting an eye.

Yuria thought that a face this handsome was one she could spend a lifetime looking at without ever growing tired of it. Though of course, it would serve purely as decoration. In any case, even a face that near-perfect had one flaw.

That expression.

The pinched brow and the way he was biting the soft inside of his cheek made it plain enough that he was suffering.

Even if this marriage felt like a shackle to him, she could not understand why he had to look so pained about it.

Yuria Bellaris of Il Mare, one of the empire’s seven great houses, held an unrivaled standing in society. She set trends, and everyone scrambled to follow her lead.

It was she who had transformed the house’s dull, dark blue into something refined and fashionable, and she who had washed away the family’s old stigma as the barbarians by the sea. All of it, her doing.

A woman who had everything. That was precisely what Yuria was.

And yet there was one thing, just one, that she could not do as she pleased. A political marriage arranged between houses.

The terms were simple. Bellaris would gain a powerful ally in Castoria. In return, Castoria’s sole legitimate heir would receive the most sought-after bride in the empire.

But the man who was to be her husband clearly found his chosen partner wanting.

“Do you swear before God that you will cherish and love Il Mare’s Yuria Bellaris until she loses her youth, and that no matter what life you meet her in after death has parted you, your heart will remain unchanged?”

Demanding a vow of love even beyond death. It was an absurd wedding oath, born from the belief in reincarnation held by Messina, the empire’s state religion.

“I do.”

Without a shred of sincerity. Yuria recited the words inwardly, flat and dry, still bothered by Valen’s expression.

“Yuria Bellaris, of the House Bellaris of Il Mare.”

The pastor put the same vow to Yuria that he had put to Valen, and she gave her answer with equally little feeling behind it.

“I do.”

A ring was slipped onto Yuria’s finger, and the same onto Valen’s. With that, the pact between the houses was sealed. Hoping this marriage would hold together without incident, Yuria let out a long breath.

The moment of the final kiss.

Two pairs of lips, carrying no emotion between them, touched and parted.

“Before the god Messina, these two are now husband and wife.”

The pastor’s declaration drew cheers from everyone present. It was the moment two houses that had been at each other’s throats finally put the past behind them and were bound together in the knot of marriage.

At the ball that followed the ceremony, Valen asked Yuria to dance, and the two joined hands. Valen’s lead was remarkably practiced and skilled. Then again, at every ball ever held, women had lined up for the chance to dance with him. What was interesting was that this was the first time the two of them, now married, had ever danced together.

Unable to bear Valen’s still-rigid expression any longer, Yuria leaned in and whispered.

“Relax your face. Someone might think you’re being dragged to a slaughterhouse.”

“Sorry. I’m just too nervous.”

Nervous? That was a lie. He simply found his bride lacking. Who was the woman he had his heart set on? Lady Vivian of the Libero house, with whom he had long been close? Or perhaps Lady Lilia, who had recently made her debut in society?

His looks were matched only by the number of women constantly surrounding him, so it was not much of a surprise that he did not love her. Her pride stung a little, of course, but one could not force someone to love a person they had no feelings for. Yuria herself had not a shred of feeling for Valen either, so in that respect, it was fair.

The moment the marriage alliance with Castoria was secured, Yuria had fulfilled her role.

Gazes full of admiration and envy fell upon the newlyweds. To the onlookers, it could only appear as the union of two perfect people.

Fortunately, Valen played along well enough in this little performance. He had likely come to accept, in the end, that he too needed a wife of grace and high standing to present to the world.