Come and Cry at My Funeral - Chapter 12
***
After the mother and daughter left, Freesia cooled her swollen face with wash water.
“Ouch…”
Thankfully, there were no nail marks. This much she could hide with makeup on the wedding day.
Freesia carefully wiped her face and murmured.
“…So you can make that kind of expression, too.”
Izar’s face, whom she had secretly met, lingered in her mind.
Her ‘husband’, who was twenty-three this year, looked even younger than when she saw him at the funeral.
He was wary of her, but there was definitely a subtle hint of curiosity that flickered through his expression.
Indifference. Contempt. Disappointment.
It was the first time seeing her husband’s face not marred by these three emotions. Freesia kept a calm expression, but her heart raced uncontrollably.
She had no expectation or hope that Izar would suddenly become kind to her.
She didn’t even expect him to feel any love for her.
‘My goal in this life is to be a useful wife.’
In her original life, Freesia got everything wrong from start to finish. Of course, she didn’t blame it all on herself.
But it was undeniable that because of her, the restoration of the honor of Izar’s family became delayed.
‘Erase the big mistake and become a wife who can help him… even make him feel just a little affection.’
The men of House Arcturus have always been passionate.
Though blunt in speech, they do not shy away from shedding tears over the death of a loved one, nor do they spare tears for the death of even a beloved horse.
…This meant that her past self was not a valuable wife.
‘But in this life, at my funeral, he might shed at least one tear.’
Setting low expectations made success easier and reduced the likelihood of disappointment.
Soon, Freesia closed her eyes slowly.
The Antares mansion felt like a prison, but it was heaven compared to what awaited her at the Arcturus ducal residence, where she would be surrounded by people who despised her.
She prepared herself to meet them again on her wedding day and fell asleep.
***
The atmosphere at the wedding day between House Arcturus and and House Antares was eerily similar to a funeral. Lavish, no doubt, but nonetheless carried the heavy dreariness of a funeral.
The guests whispered throughout the banquet about the pinnacle of this false union. Around extravagantly decorated tables, members and vassals of both families were just raising the corners of their mouths in smiles, yet their eyes filled with animosity.
It was clearly a disastrously failed wedding.
But the new bride was viewing the situation very positively.
‘It’s different from my past life. At least there’s no brawl this time.’
Last time, the Arcturus knights, enraged by the insult to their master, clashed with the Antares side, resulting in bloodshed. But this time, there was no such melee.
Originally, right after signing the marriage agreement, Izar had shaken off her hand as if trying to rid himself of filth as quickly as possible.
But this time, he properly held her hand until they left the ceremony. Therefore, Freesia decided to view this as significant progress.
Just then, Izar, sitting beside her, lifted his glass and spoke.
“It’s truly astonishing, Duke Antares. To think you had a daughter hidden in my territory.”
“Ahem, it wasn’t hiding her. It was a miraculous discovery.”
“Is that so? If you had searched harder, perhaps you could have arranged an engagement sooner.”
Izar still had a smile on his face.
“Then everyone would have been more comfortable, wouldn’t they?”
“Ahem, haha…”
Duke Antares smiled awkwardly.
But it was clear that he was inwardly panicking and breaking into cold sweat.
‘Why is this prick acting too calm?’
The temperament of the members of House Arcturus was well known in other territories.
So, Duke Antares was now trying to provoke Izar into a rage, all for the sake of providing juicy gossip for the emperor.
But Izar, although his smile showed discomfort, did not show any rude behavior first.
The rest of Arcturus’s side was the same.
They seemed well prepared mentally, not to be shaken by any sudden incidents.
However, what seemed the strangest to Duke Antares was his own daughter.
‘And why is she too composed?’
After being abandoned, he had heard that the mother had gone half mad, so he expected the illegitimate daughter to be completely lowly.
But although her appearance was modest, her demeanor lacked any coarseness, not giving off a lowly feel.
‘She’s calmer than I thought?’
She didn’t even break into cold sweat in a room full of nobles.
Even when using the cutlery, there was nothing to fault, and she didn’t hunch her shoulders or rest her elbows on the table.
Her conduct was that of a perfectly demure noble bride.
‘This is troubling.’
The coming plan was to insult Izar, and the bride would be used as a tool in that play.
And as if reading Duke Antares’ mind, a herald at the door announced,
“His Majesty the Emperor has arrived!”
