His jet-black cloak was trimmed with glossy fur that hinted at his power, and beneath it, he wore only a shirt with a few buttons roughly undone, which conveyed a vitality that made the cold meaningless.

It was the appearance of one who dominated the gathering by both his build and his attire.

“Meeting the one god’s priest and priestesses in my palace is quite moving.”

The approaching man’s eyes shone gold like a raptor’s beneath his jet-black hair. His gaze sweeping over the crowd was sharp, like slicing with a sword blade. So much so that everyone who received it had no choice but to shrink further.

It was the appearance of one who left everyone not knowing where to put themselves.

Is intimidation a force with real substance? The temperature of the gathering seemed to drop further. The courtiers, blanched white, cleared the way at once.

“I doubt anyone has exchanged as many final greetings with your god’s knights as I have.”

The remark he added slowly froze the air once more. This time, it was behind Riella. The mention of the events on the battlefield he dominated stirred needless dread among the Holy Kingdom’s party.

“Though now that we are seeking peace, we will have no more to exchange.”

“…….”

If you value your lives, do not stir up trouble. He wrapped up the situation with an arrogant remark like a threat, and at last the man reached the front of the courtiers’ ranks. The head of the household bowed and stepped aside, but the man’s steps did not stop at the spot he vacated.

As the distance closed relentlessly, Riella’s head naturally tilted up. In her abruptly raised view, his figure filled the space like a huge wall.

At last, less than a single step remained between them.

“Itanas.”

Did the murmur, hard to grasp the meaning of, ring out like a declaration?

His large hand seemed to brush his own throat, and then he undid the clasp near his collarbone, like breaking it, and swept off his cloak.

The jet-black fabric trimmed with ashen fur fluttered in the chilled air. It flew toward the space behind Riella. Before she could grasp the meaning of that movement, a soft velvet touch settled on Riella’s shoulders. Then the man’s firm hands closed the front, and the softness of fur, which she felt for the first time in her life, tickled under her chin.

Until then, Riella couldn’t grasp what was happening to her, and only rolled her wide eyes about.

“I am your betrothed, Saintess of Rem.”

Only after the man, gazing steadily at her face, curved his eyes and stretched the corners of his mouth long, did she barely realize what was happening.

That is, the man introduced his name, and,

‘This man is the king of Saranthum who will be my husband…?’

Such a huge man.

Such an arrogant, insolent man who frightened everyone yet feared no one.

And such a handsome man.

Yes.

The man was handsome.

Atop the broadest, thickest torso Riella ever saw in her life sat a face sculpted splendidly, like the marble bust she saw in the Holy See’s art gallery.

His nose bridge and jawline were so prominent that his features were clear from far away.

His features, set in perfect proportion, looked like a master ground his very soul into delicate craftsmanship.

Hair as black as if woven from the blackest depth of night fluttered elegantly in the north wind, and eyes of gold, brilliant like the pure gold work of a chalice, shone keenly.

Riella’s heart thumped pointlessly, thud, thud.

It was the first time she saw such a person. A man draped in the menace of a war god yet possessing the beauty of a work of art, outstanding in every aspect.

Such a man looked at her, his golden eyes shining like the morning star, like someone deeply moved at meeting her….

‘Ah.’

No horns?

Riella couldn’t hide her surprise, and her eyes widened so wide the corners seemed to split.

Yes. The forehead, lightly covered by his long bangs, was merely straight and flat. There was no horn on it, nor any bump that could be mistaken for one.

Judging by his own self-introduction and the attitude of the Saranthumians who feared him, he did seem to be the sl*ughter-maniac in question, and the golden eyes shining like pure gold seemed to say he was truly the dragon’s descendant.

‘Not a horned devil, but a devil who bewitches people…?’

Cheeks flushed deep red without her noticing, Riella seriously thought so.

No wonder, since all the way here she agonized over the thought that her future husband was a butcher who swept away thousands of holy knights and a half-beast who claimed to be the successor of the evil dragon. Yet his gaze was so deep, and she was so dazzled by his beauty, that she completely forgot that worry.

A man hung with such cruel epithets could not possibly not be a devil, so if he had no horns, it must be that kind instead.

“And the saintess who will be my consort?”

“A-Ah…!”

Look at that. Even her duty was made to vanish from her mind, wasn’t it? The evil dragon in question must have made a contract with a devil who bewitches people and thrown the continent into chaos.

Riella hurriedly moved and greeted him according to the etiquette she learned.

“…I am Riella. Please take care of me.”

At the moment she finished the one line she barely squeezed out.

I’m ruined. As the realization rushed in, Riella bit her tongue. She memorized the graceful greeting for a saintess, the peace of Rem and all of it, until her palms never lost their pallor, yet she forgot every word, and what flowed from her mouth was nothing more than the babbling of a clumsy, slow student.

A phantom pain tingled in her gloved palms.

On top of that, she was now wrapped from the collar the man fastened for her down to her whole body in a heavy cloak. Only her face above the fur collar would be visible, so the movements of her body inside wouldn’t be seen. Her bearing, at least, was perfect.

Still, she never learned how to conduct herself in an outfit like this, so it couldn’t be helped. Gulp. Her throat bobbed along Riella’s slender neck.

“You are nervous.”

The man’s golden eyes shone with a soft chuckle, and the corners of Riella’s eyes widened once more.

How did he know? Does he truly have the demonic power to read hearts…!

In truth, he noticed that faint movement only because he was holding the collar of the cloak, but Riella’s fantasy about a man lacking superiority in no corner of himself ran away into conjecture.

“There is no need. It is only an honor for me.”

“…….”

“…To meet you like this….”

Perhaps he read every thought flickering across her face beyond the veil. The king of Saranthum, examining her face closely, curved his eyes and continued his greeting. His voice even rang with emotion.

No, emotion?

‘Surely not….’

It had to be a mere misunderstanding. Riella barely managed to blink.

Even that seemed to please the man. With the warmth of the sun and stars shining in his golden eyes, the man produced a gentle voice.

“You must be exhausted from the journey, and the very different climate must have startled you.”

“No, not at all….”

The response she somehow squeezed out rang like mumbling again. Her stomach chilled, since the reasons for Valencio to scold her kept growing.

“It is cold, so I will show you inside at once. Lord Günther?”

“Yes.”

Unlike when he spoke to her, Itanas’s voice rang out awkwardly cold, but only briefly. The head of the household answered promptly, his face tense.

“Please come. I will guide you. We have prepared the first bedroom of the Summer Palace.”

“The Summer Palace.”

Itanas’s thick brows rose threateningly. His eyes, rolling toward where the head of the household stood, flashed sharply. The golden eyes that glowed like the sun while holding Riella were now exuding the cruel edge of metal.