“It’s not just you who’s troubled, Deputy High Priestess Giselle—I was just as taken aback myself. I’d spent days preparing a welcome ceremony for the head of the house, only for it all to go to waste.”

Dietrich Lester thought of his blunt, formidable nephew. Dietrich was the half-brother of the late Duke Josef Lester, who had adopted Shed. Although Dietrich and Josef were quite far apart in age, Josef had adopted Shed as an adult, so Dietrich and Shed were only about five years apart in age. This made Dietrich closer in age to Shed than to Josef. Dietrich had therefore spent several days personally preparing a heartfelt welcome for Shed.

‘I wanted to surprise him…’

Truth be told, Dietrich was just as disappointed as Giselle.

“It seems Duke Lester still has a lot to learn about proper etiquette.”

Giselle’s beautiful, dignified voice slipped out through tightly pressed lips.

Dietrich glanced at her, letting out a deep sigh.

‘Her pride’s clearly been wounded…’

And understandably so.

To be frank, Giselle Marlhein was far beyond what Shed Lester deserved. She was at the top of the priesthood — no one else in the current clergy was born with as much holy power as her. Not even the Pope himself could match her command of sacred energy.

She had saved countless lives and altered fates, and was revered as a living saint. There was even a grand statue of her in Grace Square, the largest plaza in the Marlhein domain. This alone spoke to her influence and power.

Priests earned their status solely through merit and ability, and there were no restrictions against marriage or starting a family. As such, they were a cornerstone of imperial power and the key currency in political dealings. This made Giselle Marlhein the Empire’s most sought-after bride and its most valuable prize.

Before she became engaged to Shed, she received an incalculable number of marriage proposals. She could have chosen any unmarried man in the Empire — she could have had her pick of the best.

Yet she chose Shed Lester. In other words, it was not Shed who chose her, but Giselle who made the selection.

‘No one ever imagined she would choose a Lupus as her husband.’

For a noble house, the Marlhein family were progressive and open-minded, but they were still traditional aristocrats. Meanwhile, Giselle was a priestess belonging to the Temple, an institution that was even more conservative than the imperial family.

The uproar at the time was indescribable. Many opposed the engagement.

‘There were even attempts to assassinate Shed Lester.’

The prospect of losing Giselle to a Lupus outraged countless men. Her family and the temple pestered her almost daily to reconsider the engagement.

But this was Giselle Marlhein. A woman who always got what she wanted, she was unyielding, stubborn and sharp-tongued, and never swayed by anyone’s opinion.

In the end, she secured the engagement she desired. Not even the great Shed Lester could refuse her once she had made up her mind.

And really, how could he? If the goddess herself had granted such a blessing, who would dare refuse it?

After her engagement to Shed, his position became unshakable. Even the ageing Duke Josef Lester willingly passed the dukedom on to him. Shed Lester inherited his title thanks to Giselle Marlhein.

And yet, he had the audacity to stand up his fiancée.

“Deputy High Priestess Giselle is absolutely right. How could Duke Lester behave this way?”

The other priests following Giselle joined in, voicing their criticism of Shed.

Watching them, Dietrich let out an awkward, dry laugh. Giselle shot him a sharp glare.

“Do you find this situation amusing, Deputy Dietrich?”

“N-no, not at all! It’s just, well, I wonder why you’re so angry. I mean, you must have known what he was like even before the engagement, didn’t you?”

Dietrich stammered, but still managed to say everything on his mind. To him, their reaction seemed a little over the top.

“Has Duke Lester ever taken the easy path in life?”

Even after joining the ducal family, Shed had always handled the most difficult, unpleasant jobs. There was probably no one in the Empire with a longer combat record.

‘Maybe he acts this way because he finds life too dull?’

He was a maverick who made history with his defiance, a man burdened with endless rumors and titles, yet always emotionally detached from it all.

When Giselle proposed the engagement—indifferent.

When he inherited the dukedom—indifferent.

Even after a dramatic victory on the battlefield—still indifferent.

Given his status, he could easily have entered high society, attending parties and expanding his network. Yet, at times, it seemed as though he sought out chaos; as if he needed turbulence to prevent life from becoming dull. He threw himself into battles that could have cost him his life, showing no concern for the rumours and scandals that surrounded him.

‘Sometimes I wonder if he’s just looking for trouble.’

He would do something outrageous, only to appear disappointed when it wasn’t as interesting as he had hoped. It was as if the part of his soul that should have taken joy from life had been broken.

Dietrich realised that he had never seen Shed smile, despite having seen him many times.

Whether at victory banquets or when people congratulated him on his engagement, he never changed.

So it wasn’t all that surprising when he ignored Giselle Marlhein and headed straight for the cursed land of Ideana.

“W-well, it’s been quite some time since you got engaged—by now, you should have figured out what your fiancé is really like, Deputy High Priestess Giselle…”

“So you’re saying this is my fault, Deputy Dietrich?”

“…Well, in a way, yes?”

Dietrich shrugged sheepishly.

Beneath her white priestly robes, Giselle’s fist trembled with frustration.

‘Thank goodness she’s a refined priestess and a lady of the Marlhein family. Otherwise, that clenched fist would’ve landed squarely on my face by now.’

Dietrich found himself reminiscing about their days together at the seminary.

Shortly before graduating, Dietrich was preparing for his ordination when Giselle arrived as a new student, causing quite a stir.

Simply being the daughter of the Marquis of Marlhein made her the talk of the seminary. But what Dietrich remembered most was the sound of her sharp, ringing voice echoing through the halls while he studied for his ordination exams.

“Did you bully her!?”

Next came the sound of children wailing loudly. Dietrich put down his pen and looked out of the window. In the middle of the courtyard, he saw a pretty little girl standing boldly with her fist clenched in triumph.

At her feet, a boy cowered on the ground, blood dripping from his nose. Soon, monks and priests came running out, looking shocked.

“He kept picking on Helen!”

‘Talking back to a priest like that… She must have been spoilt rotten and not known her place.’

Dietrich remembered the sound of his tongue clicking as he watched Giselle glaring up at the priest with her wide, defiant eyes.

Fortunately, her status as the Marquis’s daughter meant that she was spared any serious punishment. Even so, she was always the best among her peers — a true tomboy.

Had there not been so many priests at the seminary, she would probably have ended up with a scar or two on her pretty face.

One thing was certain: from a young age, Giselle would have made an excellent general. If she had not been blessed with holy power, the Marlhein family would probably have raised her to be a knight or a military commander.

Instead, she grew up to become perfectly polished and sociable, adored by all as the beautiful, sacred Deputy High Priestess.

“I need to hear Duke Lester’s explanation for this—”

“Deputy High Priestess Giselle!”

Just then, a maid came running up to Giselle. Giselle’s sharp eyebrows relaxed, and she turned to the maid.

“What is it, Justin?”

Her tone softened instantly, all traces of her earlier edge gone.

Dietrich shuddered inwardly. She really was something else.

“It’s… there’s a messenger from Marlhein.”

Justin said, face full of distress. A sense of foreboding crept in. And it turned out to be exactly right.

“Duke Lester has set fire to the port at Brillon…!”

Maid Justin held out a trembling hand with the letter.

“…What?”

“W-what did you say?”

Giselle and Dietrich exclaimed at once.

Brillon wasn’t even part of the Lester domain—it was a port in Marlhein territory. Why would he set fire to Brillon if he was supposed to be heading to Ideana?

Giselle hurriedly unfolded the letter Justin had handed her. Dietrich nervously twisted a lock of his long silver hair as he waited for her reaction.

And soon, he saw her lips moving silently again, offering up another prayer to the gods.

‘Truly a devout woman…’

It seemed the news the maid had brought was indeed true.

“C-could I have a look at that letter…?”

Dietrich asked Giselle hesitantly.

“Ha! Do as you like. I’m sure the Lesters will find out soon enough anyway.”

Giselle handed over the letter, doing her best to hide the edge in her voice.

It wasn’t from Marlhein, but from Shed’s side. It began with an apology for setting fire to Brillon Port in Marlhein’s territory. However, the words didn’t really sound apologetic; they seemed more like a polite formality.

The sender went on to state that compensation for restoring the port and repairing the damaged ships had already been provided, and that the Lester family would also cover subsidies for fishermen who had lost their livelihoods, at least for the time being.

They added that if anything else was needed, Marlhein could simply bill the Lester family.

The letter was so formal and impersonal that it read more like an official report than a letter.