Chapter 62: The Grand Duchess of Lorendel

Clink—

A clear metallic chime rang out as the blades met.

The officers raised their arms at a precise angle, their swords touching at the tips to form a single arch.

From the podium, Damian turned and locked eyes with Edelweiss, his gaze finding her instantly, as if no one else existed in the world but the two of them.

The moment their eyes met, she felt a flush of embarrassment and turned her head—only to catch sight of Rosemary, watching her with a gaze twisted by envy.

Anger. And a bitter, unspoken jealousy.

Surely, Rosemary no longer held feelings for Damian. So that look must be directed entirely at her.

A woman who had been denied the title of Lady Stern and would live forever with a limp.

‘While I became a Marchioness… and awakened my abilities.’

Watching the person she loathed marry a legitimate imperial prince—it must have been unbearable.

Edelweiss slowly met Rosemary’s gaze.

‘Where did you put those opal earrings?’ she noticed that Rosemary’s ears were bare.

Realizing their eyes had locked, Rosemary hastily forced a smile. But her eyes remained tense and stiff.

Edelweiss mouthed a silent question: “Are you alright?”

At that, Rosemary’s lips twitched.

‘You couldn’t have it… but I did.’

It was clear Edelweiss wasn’t offering comfort, but taunting her—and judging by the tremble in her lips, Rosemary understood that well.

Edelweiss withdrew her gaze and continued forward.

“I greet the noble one who shall share both the glory and responsibility of the Rejenoël Coast.”

One of the officers lowered his blade to block her path, as per the ceremonial tradition, and solemnly recited the rite.

The other officers followed suit, paying their respects.

Edelweiss gave a small nod and slowly passed through.

The hem of her dress whispered as it flowed; the veil fluttered softly in the breeze.

Damian, his platinum hair swept back, wore full dress uniform.

Whenever I see him…

He looked like a flawlessly sculpted statue.

On his broad, unruffled shoulders rested epaulettes woven from five strands of gold cord; above them, tightly braided gold lines gleamed like a fringe.

It was a moment that reminded everyone that he was the Grand Admiral leading the navy—refined authority added to his presence.

The weight of the decorations on his chest testified to countless hours on the battlefield.

His eyes never left Edelweiss.

With tension came an unfamiliar thrill,

a flutter that spread like a freshly budding flower.

It’s a marriage of convenience, she thought, yet it feels as if it were for love.

He approached with heavy steps, as though cutting through sea fog.

The Marquis of Blossomweaver hesitated, reluctant to let go of Edelweiss’s hand, but at last he placed it in Damian’s.

As the marquis stepped back, Damian’s and Edelweiss’s hands met.

Behind them, the naval officers slowly lowered their swords; once the precise motion ended, the hall fell silent again.

Edelweiss lightly took Damian’s arm and stood beside him.

“In the name of God, we unite these two souls as one. May everlasting joy and peace dwell with them, and may the path they walk always be filled with faith. Whatever hardships come, may they never release each other’s hand, but live in love through every precious moment of life.”

Opposite them, the pontiff traced the sign of the cross and intoned the prayer.

“Damian Rejenoël, do you take Edelweiss Oberlin Blossomweaver as your wife?”

“Yes.”

Damian answered at once, as though he had been waiting.

Now it was Edelweiss’s turn.

Though the outcome was certain, her throat tightened with nerves.

“Edelweiss Oberlin Blossomweaver.”

“……”

“Do you take Damian Rejenoël as your husband?”

Just before she spoke, Edelweiss looked into Damian’s eyes. They shone a deep, clear blue.

Seeing those calm, lake-like eyes, the tension wrapped around her body melted away.

“…Yes.”

She composed her voice and answered smoothly.

“Then please sign the register.”

At the pontiff’s gesture, Edelweiss looked down at the document before her.

After Damian signed, he handed her the quill.

This marriage would change many things.

Grand Duchess of Lorendel…

Along with his titles, she would become Duchess of Benacé, Countess of Delphier, and Lady of Rese.

Damian tapped lightly where she should sign with his long finger.

Edelweiss wrote her name beneath Damian’s, adding the Lorendel surname. Each stroke of the pen let their skin brush faintly.

Damian Rejenoël Lorendel.

Edelweiss Oberlin Blossomweaver Lorendel.

Then small footsteps approached from behind.

Turning slightly, she saw Princess Charlotte walking toward them with a bright grin.

Edelweiss beamed; Charlotte looked utterly lovable.

The princess cradled a basket filled with colorful flowers.

Inside lay the wedding rings engraved with lily-of-the-valley, along with the rose-vine brooch and silver cuff links Edelweiss had entrusted to her.

Edelweiss gently stroked Princess Charlotte’s cheek.

Charlotte craned her neck, pleased, as if asking for more strokes.

After patting her a few more times, Edelweiss turned to Damian and fastened the rose-vine brooch and silver cuff links onto his dress uniform.

He raised his eyebrows slightly, evidently surprised that she had given him the Blossomweaver emblem. Judging by his reaction, Princess Charlotte had kept the request for secrecy perfectly.

Guests noticed and began whispering, stirred by the gesture.

“It seems to mean that their first child will inherit the Grand Duchy of Lorendel and the second will take the marquisate of Blossomweaver.”

“Indeed. Now that he is officially the Marquis Consort, Lady Céline’s hopes of claiming Blossomweaver are finished.”

“And imagine how adorable a child who resembles the two of them will be!”

Damian picked up the ring.

At once, the murmuring in the cathedral faded.

He lifted Edelweiss’s hand and slid the ring onto her left fourth finger.

Feeling a faint tremor, she did the same, pushing the ring onto the same finger of his hand. Her fingertips brushed the long, firm joints of his fingers.

As the band glided slowly over his skin, a gentle warmth spread.

“Now share the kiss of your vows.”

When Damian raised his hand, Edelweiss instinctively flinched. His fingertips glided along the edge of her veil, then gently lifted it back.

With the veil gone, her view cleared, and Damian’s face came into sharper focus.

They had met eyes countless times, yet unveiling at their wedding felt entirely different—perhaps because it signified becoming husband and wife.

A watercolor-soft blush bloomed on Edelweiss’s pale cheeks.

As Damian closed the distance, she shut her eyes, drawing a slow breath to calmly accept what was coming.

Warm breath brushed her lips, and when the soft contact arrived, it lasted longer than she expected—he pressed deeper.

Not only that: he took her chin, lightly nipping at her lip.

Pulled by him, Edelweiss had to rise onto her toes; when it proved awkward, he wrapped an arm around her waist.

Flustered, she lifted her eyelids and met Damian’s displeased eyes. Only then did he curve his lips into a faint smile.

Her gaze shook hard as his grip tightened. Breathless, she pushed lightly at his shoulder, and Damian eased back so she could breathe.