A Way to Confirm Your Husband’s True Feelings - Chapter 22
The very next day after her second encounter with the Margrave, which had left behind nothing but a bitter aftertaste.
‘Even if he doesn’t see me as a love interest … couldn’t I at least be a friend?’
That was the thought Beatrice had the moment she opened her eyes in bed. In stark contrast to the previous night’s vow to let go, her heart was overflowing with lingering attachment.
Though yesterday’s disappointment still lingered, her desire to get closer to Caesar Valentin surpassed it.
She pushed aside her hopeless expectations. She just wanted some kind of rapport with him, even something as simple as friendship.
Just because they were man and woman didn’t mean their relationship had to be romantic. She would have been content if there were some way, any way at all, to interact with the Margrave.
And the moment Beatrice made up her mind—almost unbelievably—a miraculous event occurred.
The very man who had seemed utterly indifferent to her just the day before came to visit the Duke of Estern’s estate.
“Margrave Valentin? You mean he didn’t come to see Freya?”
“He asked for Lady Beatrice Estern specifically, my lady. And…”
“He’s carrying flowers,” the chamberlain added, leaving Beatrice speechless.
It was something she had never expected.
The courtship customs of the Tyrenia Empire’s nobility, as she knew them, were formulaic to the point of monotony.
Men and women of marriageable age would search for suitable partners through social gatherings such as seasonal parties. After a few chance meetings and building some basic rapport, the man would first visit the woman’s family estate.
Typically, he would bring a bouquet or a small gift, share tea, and exchange pleasantries. If things progressed further, even a chaperoned outing might be permitted. Once both sides had reached a tacit agreement, the man would then send a formal proposal to the woman’s family.
As far as Beatrice knew, that was the standard route to marriage among the nobility.
Of course, in cases of arranged marriage, where the match was planned from the start, the parents would intervene early, and things would proceed differently. In Freya’s case, there had been a firm plan long before she reached adulthood, and it had been her side that initiated the talks through her father.
In any case, by the customs of high society, Caesar Valentin visiting Beatrice with flowers could only be interpreted as a sign of intent to court her.
Even if he wasn’t well-versed in etiquette, he surely knew that bringing flowers to a lady wasn’t something done lightly.
How can he suddenly come to see me like this, without a single hint beforehand…?
By conventional standards, the Margrave’s behavior was unusual—no, completely unexpected. They had only met briefly, just twice, and hadn’t built any meaningful rapport. If any other man had acted this way, Beatrice would likely have scoffed and refused to even meet him.
But I don’t dislike it. No—I feel like I might die from how happy I am. I must be out of my mind…!
Suppressing the urge to jump for joy, Beatrice buried her face in her blanket and screamed silently.
Moments later, she leapt from bed, her face flushed, and urgently called for the maids to help her dress.
“What color dress would be best? Could you braid my hair to one side? Keep the makeup light—but I want my lips to look a bit dewy.”
Seeing how much more animated than usual their young lady was, the maids exchanged glances. It seemed a man had finally come along who had thoroughly captured the heart of their youngest lady.
Once she was dressed as quickly—but perfectly—as possible, Beatrice calmed her nerves as she made her way down to the parlor where the Margrave waited. Having had a moment to think, a bit of reason had returned.
She considered that Margrave Valentin showing up so suddenly, without context, to present his affections might very well be for political reasons.
Recalling what she had learned from watching Freya, Beatrice tried to discern his motives. Thinking over Caesar’s current position and circumstances, and what he might hope to gain going forward, the answer became clear.
Unless a family was one of considerable lineage, surviving in the Empire’s political sphere was a ruthless, silent war.
Though the Margraviate was situated near the border and thus perhaps not as entangled in affairs as the capital’s nobility, the moment one entered aristocratic society, political strife became inevitable. And that was a battle utterly unlike wielding a sword on the battlefield.
What Caesar needed now was likely a powerful family to serve as a solid backing. Not just a vassal’s tie to the Crown Prince, but a more intricate, enduring alliance. For a young, unmarried man like him, marriage would be the most effective means.
Having reasoned this far, Beatrice squared her shoulders with renewed confidence. Her thoughts from the previous day had been wrong. Pride might not help in winning someone’s heart, but status—status certainly did.
She might not have gained his romantic interest yet, but even so, she had something she could offer him. Something that made her valuable in his eyes.
