Chapter 1
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Dear, I believe you may be misunderstanding.
Episode 1
Chapter 1
Must we truly marry?
The tea, steeped to perfect temperature, exhaled its fragrant essence.
Lucas Black raised the cup to his lips, savoring the aroma, his serene gaze fixed upon the woman seated across from him. The state of the teacup she held was decidedly troubling.
'At this rate, she'll shatter it.'
Tremor, tremor, tremor....
The woman's pale fingers, gripping the cup with white-knuckled intensity, quivered visibly. So forcefully did she clutch it that the joints of her delicate hand had flushed crimson, while her fingertips, drained of blood, had turned a sickly white.
Lucas regarded her trembling hand with growing unease, his thoughts darkening.
'No—her fingers will break first.'
What could possibly be making her so anxious?
Watching her sit rigidly, her gaze fixed upon the floor, stirred an odd discomfort within me. Though I had done nothing, I felt as though I had cornered her, trapped her without cause.
'This is troublesome.'
Quite awkward, indeed.
He glanced briefly at the watch on his wrist and swallowed a sigh. He had carved out this time deliberately, yet he could not shake the suspicion that he had wasted his effort.
Cool tea slipped down his throat, which he had cleared several times. Half-concealing his face behind the teacup, Lucas studied the woman before him once more.
'Grace Oellin.'
The sole daughter of Marquis Capren Oellin.
Of course, the Marquis had a son as well, but his only daughter was Grace Oellin. True to the rumors of the Marquis's household lily, she was refined and beautiful.
Her raven hair, neatly pinned upward, gleamed as though crushed black pearls had been scattered across it, and her smooth jawline, flawless complexion, and seemingly harmless countenance possessed an ineffable poignancy that stirred curiosity.
Grace Oellin was a beautiful woman.
Ordinarily, commonplace beauty—the sort one might encounter anywhere.
And yet, Grace Oellin possessed an uncanny ability to draw the eye. Lucas attributed this entirely to those luminous, enigmatic violet eyes.
Eyes as vivid as violets, as transparent as amethyst.
Now they lay hidden beneath the shadow of her long lashes, but when he had first encountered Grace Oellin, those violet eyes had left a profound impression upon him. They possessed a quality that seemed to draw one inward, as though one might be pulled into their depths.
Perhaps it was not an exaggeration to say he had come here hoping to experience that shock once more.
'But at this rate, we shall not exchange even a single glance, let alone conversation.'
Lucas released a short sigh and offered silent condolences to the elders who had thrust him into this situation.
'It is the elders' wish that this matter not be postponed beyond this year.'
Gabriel, his butler, had conveyed the collective will of dozens of family missives in his characteristically composed tone.
How relentlessly they must have pestered him, for even that capable butler's face had turned ashen.
The family had been pressing him—the head of the Black Family and heir to the dukedom—to marry with increasing urgency.
The duty of a family head.
And... a marriage befitting one who had inherited the family's secrets.
The aged elders had been insistent since two years prior, their urgency tinged with an anxiety that suggested the window of opportunity could not be missed.
Unable to resist their relentless pressure, I had reluctantly attended a social gathering, where I encountered this woman by chance.
'I am Grace Oellin.'
Her trembling voice as she introduced herself lingered strangely in my ears. Her violet eyes, which had gleamed with peculiar brilliance, left a striking impression.
Though I could not name the emotion, the thought arose that it would be pleasant to meet her again and converse further.
And so, I found myself in this situation.
'What on earth could this possibly mean?'
I studied Grace Oellin's trembling fingers as they gripped the teacup once more.
Perhaps sensing my gaze, she glanced at me before quickly averting her eyes. Those violet irises, which had gleamed for but a moment, lingered like an afterimage in my mind.
A pang of longing drew my eyes to narrow slits. Whether she heard my quiet sigh, she startled and bit down hard on her lower lip. A flush of color bloomed across her porcelain-white complexion.
Flushed cheeks, anxious eyes, and uneven breathing—all painted a picture of her inner turmoil.
After observing her for some time, I spoke carefully in a low voice.
"Perhaps I make you uncomfortable, Lady Oellin?"
"...!"
Startled by my unexpected words, Grace Oellin's head snapped up to meet my gaze.
"N-no, that's not it...."
Now her violet eyes were wide and perfectly visible.
They were indeed as beautiful as I remembered from before.
That tiny speck of unease I'd harbored dissolved completely the moment our eyes met.
Is this what people mean when they speak of someone being charming?
"Not it?"
"...W-well, that is. I'm s-sorry."
Grace Oellin clenched her teeth and squeezed her eyes shut.
I exhaled quietly.
At the sound of my sigh, Grace's face grew even paler.
It seemed this meeting would end here.
How could I possibly marry a woman who trembled uncontrollably whenever she saw me, regardless of the reason?
I had finally met someone who stirred my heart, yet it was impossible.
'At this rate, I might never marry in my lifetime.'
My family would certainly call such thoughts unacceptable.
I smiled bitterly.
For a nobleman, my thoughts were perhaps too soft-hearted, but I had no desire for a loveless marriage.
My life held too much value to waste on meaningless conflict with someone I did not love.
Some might mock such thinking, but I cared not.
Values differ from person to person, do they not?
Thus, despite those urging me forward, I waited patiently with a gracious smile.
Love.
That word carries with it trust, faith, support, and joy.
How beautiful and profound a word it is.
It was no less noble than loyalty or duty.
"...."
I observed the woman seated before me once more.
Though her hands trembled before me now, Grace Oellin possessed far more backbone than her appearance suggested.
She was one of the rare women in the Kingdom of Zeronum to receive a title directly from the king, and she personally operated an elementary school for impoverished children.
She was also known for her exceptional interest in botany.
She had even developed preservation methods that would prove useful to the poor during dry seasons.
Some nobles whispered that Grace's endeavors were unbecoming of a lady, lacking in propriety.
There were those who said she was far too headstrong for a woman.
But Lucas thought differently. Despite her appearance, he found himself drawn to Grace's unwavering conviction and quiet resolve. He was genuinely curious how someone with such fortitude would react upon learning his secret.
In truth, she possessed many qualities he found appealing.
'Yet it seems fate never intended her to be mine.'
Lucas set down his teacup, suppressing a pang of regret.
"If you don't mind, perhaps we should call it an evening."
But perhaps it was the sudden nature of his voice that startled her.
Grace Oellin's shoulders jerked violently as she gripped her cup, and untouched tea splashed across her pristine skirts.
"Oh! I'm so—I'm terribly sorry. I didn't mean to—"
Flustered and mortified, Grace fumbled helplessly.
Her cheeks had flushed a deep crimson with embarrassment, and I wanted only to help her. I reached into my pocket and withdrew a handkerchief, intending to offer it to her.
"Use this—"
"Eek!"
The moment my hand drew near, Grace recoiled with even greater alarm than before.
She quickly covered her mouth, her eyes wide as a frightened rabbit's as she stared at me.
Her violet eyes trembled violently as she gazed at me, confusion evident in every flicker. Seeing her react so intensely, I felt somewhat embarrassed myself, though I attributed it to her shock.
For the sake of the startled lady, I offered her a gentle smile, taking care to soften my expression so she wouldn't feel further mortified.
"..."
But in that very instant, something extraordinary happened.
"...Ah!"
Grace, who had been gazing at my smile, suddenly drew a sharp breath, then her eyes fluttered closed.
Her delicate form crumpled like a water-soaked cloth, collapsing toward the floor.
"Grace!"
Alarmed, I lunged forward and caught her slender waist as she fell.
As I pulled her fragile frame against me to steady her, bewilderment crossed my face.
"What on earth is happening?"
Though startled, I carefully examined the unconscious Grace's complexion.
Her damp eyelids were gently closed, and her cheeks still held a vivid crimson flush, as if radiating warmth.
Only when I heard the soft, steady rhythm of her breathing escaping between her slightly parted lips did I exhale a small sigh of relief.
Fortunately, her breathing remained stable—it seemed to be simple unconsciousness. The delicate breath escaping between her rosy lips was strangely sweet.
'Is she unwell? Was she feeling ill today?'
If so, that would explain Grace Oellin's peculiar behavior throughout the evening. Even the way she'd gripped her teacup so tightly might have been her struggling to maintain composure.
She should have simply told me if she wasn't feeling well.
Unaware of this, I'd foolishly held onto her while she was suffering. A wave of guilt hardened my expression.
It was then.
"...cas."
A faint, pained murmur escaped between Grace Oellin's tightly sealed lips.
Brought to you by Valir Scans! To support our team and enjoy the latest releases, please read directly on our official site: valirscans.org