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104.
"With this vow, I, Julian of the House of Johannes, take Rebecca Obelia as my wife. Before the goddess Defria and all assembled here, I swear that I shall cherish only her for all my days and be a faithful father to our household."
Though it was a contractual marriage, ‌‌‌Julian felt a tremor run through him as the words left his lips.
A crushing weight of responsibility descended upon ‌‌his chest.
A solemn ‌‌‌‌duty bloomed within him—to protect this beautiful woman ‌‌‌standing beside him, to ensure her happiness.
Yet simultaneously, a profound revulsion rose toward his father, who had taken countless wives despite making such vows.
His mother and father's marriage had not been a political arrangement, as was common in those days.
They had married after a passionate courtship, a romantic union.
But the result had been catastrophic.
Julian could not fathom how one could make such solemn vows to a beloved woman and then commit such betrayals.
Even he, who had not fallen in love, ‌‌felt his chest ‌crushed beneath this weight.
"Rebecca Obelia. Do you swear to uphold all the marriage vows spoken here?"
At Deslatino's solemn question, Rebecca answered softly.
"I do."
"Julian of the House of ‌‌Johannes. Do you swear to uphold all the marriage vows spoken here?"
Julian's hands clenched with force. His answer rang ‌‌‌out so loudly that the Garden itself seemed to tremble.
"I do!"
Scattered laughter rippled through the assembly.
Presently, Deslatino opened his mouth with evident reluctance.
"By the blessing of the goddess Defria, I hereby declare, as the goddess's representative, that the marriage of these two is now solemnized."
It was a wedding of historic proportions, ‌‌one worthy of the annals of history.
The clear autumn sky stretched high and beautiful above, gazing serenely down upon the radiant bride and groom.
"Now, ‌‌‌‌bride and groom, you may kiss."
Rebecca and Julian, facing the altar, turned to regard each other.
Rebecca whispered to him.
"You look absolutely magnificent right now."
Her blue eyes, reflecting the crystalline sky, shone brilliantly like sapphires.
Her gaze, brimming with affection, was fixed solely upon him before all these countless witnesses.
Julian's heart stirred.
Following the pull of his turbulent heart, he reached out without hesitation.
"Only you."
Like a seal upon their marriage vows, the lips of bride and groom met.
The first kiss had been somewhat bewildering, the second wet with tears. And now came the third kiss, sealed with the truth of their covenant.
Julian etched this brief kiss—heavier than any before it—indelibly into ‌his memory for all eternity.
"Hurrah!"
Cheers and applause ‌‌‌‌‌erupted from all sides. ‌‌‌The guests scattered flowers along the aisle, blessing the newlyweds' future together.
Before Rebecca had fully traversed the aisle, she turned back.
And ‌‌‌‌with tears of joy streaming down her face, she beamed and waved toward Zeppelin, who gazed at her with bloodshot eyes.

* * *
The reception was held in the main hall ‌‌‌of Lavonne Salon.
The main hall, consisting of two stories in total, was grand enough to host a ball or debutante presentation.
The first floor featured a dance floor and spaces for refreshments.
The second floor offered multiple private rooms ‌‌where partners and friends could enjoy intimate conversations.
The ‌‌hall's soaring ceiling was constructed of insulated glass.
Through the glass ceiling, stars embroidered across the autumn night sky gleamed brilliantly.
Since Lavonne Salon was situated in a secluded area untouched by commercial development, one could appreciate the Milky Way in its entirety.
One could even host a romantic-themed ball illuminated solely by moonlight.
Rebecca was making excellent use of ‌‌‌‌her wedding to promote Lavonne Salon.
Unlike the ‌‌‌dazzling wedding ceremony, the reception hall was softly lit by candlelight.
At first glance, the atmosphere might have felt somewhat dreary for a reception.
Yet the moment one lifted their gaze, an overwhelming cascade of stars blazed brilliantly overhead.
The guests lavished praise, declaring the reception itself flawless.
"Come to think of it, this was Miss Rebecca's second wedding, wasn't it?"
"Oh! Now that you mention it, she was the Countess of Devonshire not long ago! Goodness, I had completely forgotten." ‌
It was unheard ‌‌‌‌of ‌‌to celebrate a remarriage with such grandeur.
Yet thanks to this, people had naturally begun to accept Rebecca beside the Duke of Johannes more readily, forgetting Rebecca of Devonshire entirely.
The traditionalism of House of Johannes was common knowledge, and while House of Obelia had declined, it belonged historically to a distinguished lineage.
In truth, there were scarcely any families in the Empire worthy of the House of Johannes.
No matter which family was presented, people would have said Julian was wasting himself.
Yet no one who saw Rebecca could utter such words.
Rebecca wore an unadorned pure white mikado silk gown at the reception.
The dress, which ‌‌exposed her collarbone and shoulders, fell in a gentle A-line silhouette.
Pearl earrings borrowed from Danae's grandmother sparkled elegantly at her ears.
To ‌‌‌anyone's eye, Rebecca embodied the very image of a ‌‌noblewoman. The ‌title of Duchess suited her perfectly.
Moreover, contrary to the assessment that Rebecca had seduced Julian, he gazed at her with eyes dripping with honey.
Rather, it was Rebecca who maintained her composure and treated him with cool restraint.
Occasionally, his words faltered ‌‌‌at her remarks.
The Duke of Johannes, ‌bested by a woman.
The guests enjoyed the ‌banquet while stealing glances at the bride and groom, as though observing something extraordinary.
It ‌‌‌was only natural that attention converged upon them, given how rarely they appeared in society.
Yet while everyone blessed the happy marriage, exactly two people harbored displeasure.
They ‌‌‌were Marchioness Petunia and Zeppelin, Earl of Devonshire.
Despite Karim constantly needling him, Zeppelin grudgingly remained through the reception.
More precisely, he was watching for an opportunity to speak with Rebecca.
But Rebecca remained glued to Julian's side, even forgoing the powder room, completely cutting off any chance for ‌‌conversation with him.
Whenever he attempted to approach Rebecca, Karim would materialize from nowhere to block his path.
Zeppelin sat at the ‌‌‌far end of the table, subjected to an ‌‌onslaught of questions from unremarkable nobles.
At any party, Zeppelin typically sat near the host in a place of honor, but not tonight.
In the ‌‌first place, it was improper for him—the bride's ex-husband—to attend at all, so he ought to be grateful ‌for having a seat at the table.
Thanks to this, Julian's magnanimous generosity was being lauded throughout the hall.
Lower-ranking nobles, thrilled to find themselves seated alongside a figure of Zeppelin's stature, chattered incessantly in his ‌‌‌‌‌ear.
Zeppelin answered them perfunctorily while draining his wine.
As his gaze fixed openly upon Rebecca, Marchioness Petunia watched her with anxious eyes.
Petunia had made her debut alongside Rebecca.
That year's debutante season could scarcely be called anything but Rebecca's own triumph.
She believed herself superior to Rebecca in every conceivable way—in refinement, in eloquence, in all things.
She had labored twice as hard as Rebecca, or so she convinced ‌‌‌herself.
House of Obelia possessed greater wealth, yet her own family's standing was comparable ‌‌‌to Rebecca's.
In ability, she was undeniably superior.
Yet the outcome had been catastrophic.
Rebecca ‌had married ‌‌Zeppelin, Earl of Devonshire—the most desirable bridegroom of the season.
Suitors rejected by Rebecca had come to her instead.
Her pride wounded, Petunia had refused every marriage proposal that Rebecca had turned down.
Having missed her window for marriage, she had descended into becoming the ‌‌mistress of an elderly marquis.
All because of ‌‌‌Rebecca's absurdly perfect beauty.
It was contemptible. She felt wronged, and resented God for it.
Thus, when she heard that Rebecca had divorced, she had secretly found it gratifying.
God Himself had intervened, striking her down in society's eyes.
She had mourned Rebecca's affliction with genuine pleasure.
But what was this? Rebecca's face, which she had heard was hideous, was not merely unblemished—it positively radiated.
They said the Duke of Johannes had healed her illness ‌‌‌‌with his sacred power, and now she was marrying that very Duke of Johannes.
Despite it being a second marriage, Julian gazed upon Rebecca with such tenderness, as though he would surrender his very heart and soul to her.
In an instant, Rebecca had become a Duchess, elevating her rank above Petunia's own.
'Her luck is truly extraordinary.'
Everyone's attention was fixed upon Rebecca.
Whatever she said, people listened intently.
They ‌‌even laughed heartily at her unremarkable jests, clutching their sides.
Perhaps it was because she was the bride.
The bride, after all, was the center of the wedding.
Yet Petunia harbored an ominous premonition. ‌‌
She sensed that Rebecca's prominence would persist long after the ceremony concluded.
Petunia fidgeted nervously, constantly adjusting her wedding ring.
Having observed Rebecca throughout the day, she could discern a marked ‌‌‌transformation. Gone was the reserved demeanor Rebecca had maintained at every gathering; she was utterly changed.
This Rebecca actively steered conversations and possessed keen insight into society's affairs.
Until now, lacking a worthy rival, Petunia had reigned as queen of the social sphere unchallenged.
But if Rebecca were ‌‌‌‌to emerge in ‌‌‌‌society? And with the Duke of Johannes at her back?
It would be fierce competition. A war, nothing less.
She might suffer the same humiliating defeat as she had during her debut, as she had in the marriage market.
I need to come up with a plan....
Petunia carved into the wedding cake that had been served for dessert with rough, aggressive strokes, her mind already spinning through various schemes.
* * ‌‌‌*
"I need to visit the Powder Room for a moment...."
Rebecca rose from her seat, pressing her temples firmly with her fingertips.
As the reception deepened, the voices of increasingly intoxicated guests grew louder and more boisterous.
Listening to their endless chatter from the same spot for hours on end inevitably brought on a headache.
Moreover, the suffocating wedding dress had prevented her from even visiting the restroom all day long.
The reception dress she had chosen was at least more comfortable, so she could manage a quick trip to the restroom on her own.
Besides, it was time to touch up her makeup.
"Would you like me to accompany you?"
Julian glanced sideways at Zeppelin, who remained steadfastly at his post, and posed the question.
He ‌seemed anxious that Zeppelin might cause some trouble for Rebecca.
"It's fine. With so many people around, nothing could possibly happen. And if the bride and groom both leave our seats, who knows what gossip might spread."
"I shall accompany you."
Kanna offered her ‌‌‌steady voice and took Rebecca's arm to support ‌‌‌‌her. When Kanna's eyes met Julian's, he ‌‌‌finally relaxed and nodded in reassurance.
The Runaway Countess Returns
E-book Publication

January 12, 2022
Author

Long Night Sky
Publisher

Desert Fox
Published by

Woongjin ThinkBig Co., Ltd.
Submission Inquiry

naver.me/54VzzLSn
Blog

blog.naver.com/wj_fennecfox
Twitter

@wjt_fennecfox

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