Come and Cry at My Funeral - Chapter 21
The marriage was invalid from the start.
Izar’s eyes narrowed, emitting a sinister gleam.
‘Will I accept the proposal of Ducal Lady Antares?’
The most precious thing to him was the House of Arcturus itself. Since his father’s suicide when he was ten, Izar’s goal had always been to restore the original honor of House Arcturus.
To do that, the family name had to be preserved from ‘blemishes’, and a proper marital relationship was necessary.
That ‘blemish’ included the inclusion of a filthy illegitimate daughter into the family.
‘I cannot follow in my father’s footsteps.’
He had to be different from his father, who had been betrayed after unwisely marrying a mother of humble origin.
Then…
“…Very well, Ducal Lady.”
Izar nodded.
“Unless your father is too loyal to His Majesty, let’s proceed.”
“Oh, don’t worry.”
Atria’s eyes sparkled with victory.
“His Highness Riegel is already twenty-four!”
Meaning, once the prince were to ascend to the throne, the influence of the current capricious emperor would vanish.
And Izar agreed.
‘The prince has a gentle nature.’
That scholarly man was merely thankful for Izar’s leading role in monster extermination and did not irrationally hate Arcturus like his grandfather.
‘Then, just a little wait until my household truly reclaims its rightful place.’
But at the moment of Atria’s shining eyes, he felt a brief discomfort.
He remembered the desperate gleam in the shepherdess’s green eyes as she begged.
〈If I ever fall sick, I would appreciate it if you could be a bit kinder to me then. That’s all.〉
Why waste time on such futile requests?
And he had no time to waste on thoughts that fleetingly crossed his mind.
For instance, the thought of what would become of the shepherdess once she’s expelled.
Meanwhile, Atria, observing Izar’s silence, felt her heart flutter.
‘This settles it!’
The man was hers from the start.
She could not bear the stigma of ‘second wife’ or ‘second duchess’. Atria was the rightful daughter of the noble Antares Duchy, one of the most highborn ladies in the empire.
She detested even the thought of touching a place where that cursed illegitimate wench sat, let alone allowing her to stand before her.
She would be Izar Arcturus’s one and only wife from beginning to end.
Atria smiled and handed over the doctored document to Izar.
“Then, let’s keep the document here in the temple’s storage again.”
Izar scoffed as he took it.
Acknowledging the tampering with a temple’s official document, this woman was no ordinary player.
“And as proof of our transaction…”
Atria seduced with a smooth voice.
“Give me a kiss, Your Grace.”
Atria tilted her head up flirtatiously.
She knew that men couldn’t resist when she looked up at them with moist eyes and lips.
But Izar pushed away the woman’s forehead, laughing.
He almost laughed out loud.
Why do people attribute so much meaning to the act of lips touching? A marriage between houses is just about producing heirs, nothing more.
“What’s the point of such a fleeting proof, Ducal Lady?”
“But, Your Grace.”
“Take this as a token instead.”
He handed her a ring he had on him.
It was simple in make but unmistakably bore the emblem of Arcturus—a horn.
“Let this ring substitute for a kiss.”
“…Hmm, very well, Your Grace.”
Atria tried not to show too much delight, raising her nose even higher.
Afterwards, Izar left the inner sanctum without further conversation.
Nevertheless, the deal was sealed.
From this moment, the shameful marriage was as if it never existed.
‘All that remains is finding the right timing.’
A way must be found for Riegel Betelgeuse to ascend the throne as quickly as possible.
Yet, his gaze wavered somewhat upon his return to the mansion.
“Welcome back, Your Grace.”
“…”
“You’ve worked hard since early this morning.”
The shepherdess greeted him in a demure navy blue dress.
The jewelry was minimal, and the dress lacked elaborate embroidery, but it wasn’t to his distaste. However, Izar’s brows minutely furrowed.
‘This is what makes her suspicious.’
Had she adorned herself ostentatiously, as someone newly elevated in status might, he might have let his guard down. The somewhat refined air she carried only added to the unease.
The tension in his already taut nerves stretched even thinner.
Especially upon seeing the food being brought out from behind her.
“What are you doing?”
“Following the custom of the day after marriage, I prepared a meal for the knights.”
Izar’s mouth set in displeasure. How did she come to know of such noble family marital customs?
‘Who taught her that?’
Was it truly the mad mother of this woman?
Or was it the Antares family?
Neither made sense, and he grew increasingly suspicious of the shepherdess. Then, in a hesitant voice, the woman whispered,
“If Your Grace wishes to dine with them—”
“Didn’t I make myself clear last night? Have you already forgotten?”
