I Had No Complaints About This Marriage - Chapter 6
“Yes. Baron Elzen.”
“…Quite an impressive buyer, I must say.”
He had to admit it.
Elzen, unusually for a baron, held vast southern farmland as his territory. Through this deal, the Lehire family would gain access to the wealth of the southern granaries.
Roger nodded, then soothed Herman in a smooth voice.
“Anyway, calm down a little. Wait here for me.”
“You’re just going to leave a guest alone in the reception room?”
“Well, a messenger from Elzen is already here about that matter.”
…And the moment Roger left, in stormed the very topic of discussion—Esina Lehire.
She marched into the reception room, where an unmarried noblewoman had no business being alone with a man, without even waiting for permission. With a smile so brazen it was almost shameless.
“I heard everything. I’m still better than your political marriage prospect.”
“……”
“Come on, Herman, you think so too, don’t you?”
“You—”
“I just came of age recently, you know.”
“……”
“That girl is six. I’m exactly six years younger than you.”
So choose—a six-year-old bride, or a bride six years your junior?
Her pointed smile drew a derisive look from Herman. His finely arched brows lifted in a sardonic curve, accentuating his striking features.
“…I’ve known plenty of women better than you.”
“True. There must be countless women superior to some bastard.”
“Exactly. So—”
“But not a single one would marry you.”
“……”
“Just as Brother Roger said. Because you’re a Telloien.”
Herman scowled. The accuracy of the jab grated on him.
A man who played with lower-tier noblewomen for fun, only to eventually wed someone of proper standing.
A walking cautionary tale—the kind who’d ruin any woman foolish enough to consider him marriage material.
Excellent for a night, disastrous for a lifetime. That was the verdict on Herman Telloien.
Occasionally, starry-eyed women did dream otherwise, but they invariably withered under the Telloiens’ glacial scrutiny.
They’d leave in tears, spouting “We loved each other, but what could we do?” while Herman watched them go with detached indifference.
‘Love.’
What a laughable farce.
How many had truly loved him? Half his dalliances had been with women already pledged to others—their so-called love just a convenient excuse.
More importantly, as the pinnacle of blue-blooded aristocracy, Herman found the very notion of entertaining such naive drivel beneath him.
Until this absurd proposal, he’d vaguely assumed he too would eventually make a calculated political match.
‘Emotions are unnecessary.’
In business, as in life. Sentiment was just wasted effort.
In the end, no matter how he looked at it, there wasn’t a single woman who could resolve his predicament.
‘Even if I could buy some woman to play the bride’s role…’
Unless she came from a substantial family, his own house would make her disappear without a trace.
Amidst this, Esina Lehire—a woman positioned where even the Telloien assassins couldn’t touch her, from a family the Telloiens would never dare cross—placed a hand on her chest and declared boldly.
“I’ll do well.”
“……”
“Just thought I’d mention it, in case you were worried I’d be boring company.”
As if this woman, who had lived like a ghost in her own household, never appearing in society, had any room to talk.
Herman bit back the sarcasm dancing on his tongue. Meanwhile, Esina continued with flawless composure.
“If you don’t want me, you’re free to go chase after other women. I won’t mind.”
“What?”
“I can be extravagant enough to earn the title of ‘shrewish wife.'”
“……”
“I’ll act as uncouth as you need to make the Telloiens recoil. Family gatherings? I’ll end them in seconds. House meetings? Just say the word.”
Her crimson tongue moved smoothly in her small mouth, like a merchant peddling wares.
“I may not be the best option, but…”
“……”
“I think I meet your requirements well enough.”
