Chapter 7: Proposal

“…No. I get it now. The mention of ‘legitimate heir’ earlier finally makes sense.”

The suspicion faded from Damien’s face.

It seemed he now fully understood why Edelweiss had proposed.

However, he still hadn’t accepted her proposal.

Edelweiss quietly inhaled, trying to suppress the tension rising in her chest.

“To think you’d choose a marriage partner just to make the Viscountess of Benel feel defeated…”

What he couldn’t understand now was something else entirely.

“Do you really have to go that far for someone who’s not worth a lifetime together, someone with no value in your life?”

‘Because he doesn’t know I died because of Rosemary and came back.’

Of course he thought she only wanted to spite Rosemary.

“What would Your Highness do if someone you trusted betrayed you?”

It was the desire to give up everything she had, even herself, just for the sake of vengeance.

“I don’t trust anyone to begin with.

If you don’t trust people, there’s no risk of betrayal.”

“…”

“Why bother with hypotheticals that won’t happen? Would you be offended if I called it pathetic?”

“…Is there anyone who wouldn’t be upset to hear they’re pathetic to their face?

Your Highness seems to have no regard for others’ feelings whatsoever.”

The word pathetic stirred something sharp and raw in her chest before she could stop it.

“I hear that a lot.”

“…And do you have any intention of changing?”

“None.”

Damien flashed a cool, amused smile, clearly entertained by her reaction.

It was frustrating—and strangely enviable.

I should have done the same. I should never have trusted anyone.

Edelweiss steadied her breathing and composed her expression.

“Now, I’d like to hear your answer.”

“If we set aside the prenuptial agreement to be discussed later, and you keep just one condition, I’ll agree to your proposal. I’ve already broken three engagements, so I’ll skip the formal betrothal. We’ll publicly announce the marriage at your coming-of-age ceremony.”

“…If it’s within my ability—whatever it may be.”

Edelweiss was thrilled by Damien’s words to make the marriage official during her ceremony.

“Don’t expect me to fulfill any duties as your husband. You don’t need to support me or try to become a real wife.

I don’t want children either.”

Right now, Damien wanted a marriage completely void of love.

And for Edelweiss, that wasn’t a difficult condition.

“Is that what Your Highness desires—an arrangement without love?”

“You catch on quickly. That makes things easier.”

A wife like a silent doll—no expectations, no emotional demands.

‘Exactly what I wanted.’

It seemed this could turn into a perfectly mutual, beneficial deal.

With no expectations, she even felt more at ease.

“Don’t worry. I’m sick of those kinds of feelings. Love is worthless.”

Fleeting and uncertain, love no longer meant anything to her.

She’d learned that the hard way, when Adolf discarded her the moment she became infertile.

“If all I wanted was shallow affection, I wouldn’t have dared ask Your Highness to marry me.”

There was nothing more useless or unhelpful than that.

“…I’ll send a marriage proposal to the Duke of Stern shortly. Is there anything else you want?”

“If you don’t mind, make it extravagant. You could even hire a renowned poet to write it.”

When Rosemary eventually fell for Damien, she’d grit her teeth rereading every word of that proposal.

“That’s no trouble. I won’t be the one writing it anyway.”

Damien smiled, as if fully aware why Edelweiss made such a request.

“Thank you, Your Highness. I won’t disappoint you.”

As she smiled along with him, Damien briefly stopped breathing.

His gaze dropped to the corners of her lips.

“Lady Edelweiss.”

His voice turned dry.

“Are you sure you won’t regret this? You’re being a bit too hasty.”

Regret.

She’d experienced so much of it already—what was one more?

“That’s my burden to carry, Your Highness. You needn’t worry about me.”

Even if this was impulsive, it came from desperate resolve.

“And of course, there will be no consequences for Your Highness.”

“…”

Without a word, Damien stood and approached her.

“Shall we include a clause—divorce in five years?”

Five years.

It was more than enough.

“…Agreed. In five years—”

Enough time to give Rosemary the exact same ending she once gave her.

“—I’ll divorce you.”

He’d just reminded her never to mistake this for a real marriage. That was actually a relief.

“Then I’ll excuse myself. May Your Highness enjoy the rest of your day.”

A final confirmation that this was a transaction—mutually beneficial, clean, and with a definite end.

Edelweiss placed a hand to her chest and bowed slightly before turning away.

She could feel Damien’s gaze burning into her back as she left the room.

At the top of the stairs, Lady Chloe of House Riche approached.

“Lady Edelweiss, did the conversation go well? If Prince Damien offended you in any way, please don’t take it to heart. He’s like that with everyone…”

She cautiously inquired, noticing Edelweiss had exited alone.

Perhaps as his cousin, she knew all too well that Damien’s temperament wasn’t the warmest.

The notion that he treated everyone equally coldly struck Edelweiss as unexpectedly amusing, and a soft smile tugged at her lips.

“It was fine. He accepted my apology, too.”

“He accepted it…?”

Chloe, the Marchioness of Riche, blinked in surprise at Edelweiss’s calm words, then clapped her hands together.

“Oh, since you’re heading back, I’ll have our family’s carriage prepared for you.”

“Thank you for your kindness.”

Since Rosemary had taken the carriage and left first, Edelweiss had no ride of her own. Chloe seemed to have realized this and kindly offered a replacement.

As they walked side by side, Chloe suddenly reached out and gently took Edelweiss’s hand.

“I wanted to thank you properly. For helping with my mother…

It must’ve been a bother to get a sudden tea party invitation along with that request…”

Her voice trembled with emotion as her eyes welled up with tears.

Edelweiss shook her head slowly, meeting her gaze.

No matter what had happened, she would have helped her.

It hadn’t been a difficult thing to do—and turning her back would have felt worse.

More than anything, Edelweiss understood.

“…Because I know what it’s like to be filled with dread when your mother’s ill.

I truly hope the Marchioness of Riche recovers fully and remains by your side for a long, long time.”

When Edelweiss’s mother discovered the existence of the illegitimate child during pregnancy, she fell into deep despair.

Even after Edelweiss was born, she rarely left her room.

Even when Edelweiss visited, she would gently send her away with “I’m tired,” unable to spend time with her.

And yet, Edelweiss—still just a child—remembered the one time she had been held in her mother’s arms.

It was the day her mother died.

“My daughter, my sweet baby—just giving you love wouldn’t be enough.

If I had known, I would have held you more.”

“Mom, where are you going?”

“I’m sorry for being a bad mother.

It wasn’t your fault.

I’m sorry I resented you.

But remember just one thing—

When I found out I was carrying you, I was the happiest I’d ever been.”

“…”

“Edelweiss, remember this. You are the only daughter of the Duke of Stern.

No matter what hardships come, you are someone who can endure.

The edelweiss flower grows by rooting itself in the harshest mountain ridges.

I named you Edelweiss to carry that strength within you.”

How could she ever forget?

Even though deciding to give birth to her led to her mother’s decline and eventual death,

She had said she never once regretted having her.

Those words were what had kept Edelweiss from surrendering herself to the sea.

They were why she had chosen to live—deep in the forest, away from everyone.

Chloe, who had been holding back her tears, finally broke down crying.

Edelweiss gently embraced her.

Just like her mother had once embraced her—on that final day.