Rejecting The Perfect Marriage - Chapter 9

“…So that’s what it was after all.”

The words she’d overheard in front of his study echoed endlessly in Evangeline’s mind.
A marriage of money and power—she supposed it was only natural, but why did it leave her feeling so empty, so hollow? She’d turned away before hearing the rest of the conversation, but… No, in truth, she probably already knew how it ended.

To him, she was nothing more than a convenient duchess.

Even without the money and background of House Ohara, he must have judged her value first and foremost by what she could offer as duchess. He was that thorough, that calculating—she could almost imagine how the numbers must have added up in his mind.

“Haa…”

She abruptly stood up and yanked open the vanity drawer, pulling out all her jewelry. As if that weren’t enough, she reached even deeper until her fingers hit the hard wooden bottom. Only then did she regain her senses and squeeze her eyes shut.

‘Should I be glad I still have that much value left?’

She slumped into the chair before the mirror, her reflection pale as a childhood porcelain doll her father once bought for her. If not for the red scratch on her cheek, she might not look alive at all.

“…”

Without thinking, Evangeline traced the scratch with her fingertips. It no longer hurt—maybe it had healed—but something deeper inside ached in its place. Her hand fell from her cheek to her chest, as if to check for the family warmth that had vanished so suddenly and left a gaping void.

‘Why did I ever think I might be special to that man?’

Embarrassed, she lowered her eyes. Maybe—just maybe—she’d wondered if there was another reason he hadn’t cast her out.

For anyone else, maybe it wouldn’t matter. But this was the Duke of Teze. If it wasn’t something extraordinary, there was no way a man so exacting would tolerate a loss like this for two years. And thinking that, her heart had—foolishly—started to race with hope.

“…Pathetic.”

Her self-mocking whisper faded into a weak smile. To cling to such hope, even now, she really must have become weak. But truthfully, she had no right to expect such feelings from him.

Because she, too, had always seen Decarno only as the perfect duke.

Even if it hadn’t been her father’s stubbornness, she had to admit there was no better match in the entire empire. From their very first meeting, he was outstanding, distinguished—so different from the brash, showy young men who usually filled high society. Decarno was truly in a class of his own.

And she had liked him for that.

Even if she couldn’t expect love, it was the same for all noblewomen. And Decarno, a man who valued dignity and promises, would surely fulfill his duty as a husband. If he could devote even a tenth of the effort he put into his work as duke to their marriage, she’d ask for nothing more.

That’s why she, too, had tried her best to be the perfect duchess-to-be— And now, with three months left until the wedding, here she was.

Whether the day would really come, she couldn’t say.

“…”

Her pink eyes in the mirror blinked slowly, as if determined to hold onto the reality before her. There were no jewels or tiaras left to make her shine. She didn’t know how much further she would fall from here, but for now, that was the truth.

Balanced on the knife’s edge of the duke’s profit and loss, that was who she was now.

◇ ◆ ◇

After returning from the Teze ducal estate, Count Lian spent three days and nights bedridden.
It wasn’t a real illness—rather, his pent-up anger continued to churn inside him.

“That brat only acts up because everyone coddles him.”

The more he thought about it, the more it made his blood boil. Duke or not, Decarno was much younger—a mere nephew. The warning in Decarno’s scowling eyes, right in front of the entire extended family, had been the height of arrogance. If it were up to him, Lian would just wash his hands of it and never see Decarno again—but that wasn’t an option.

“Does he really think the Teze family is his alone?”

Ridiculous.

The House of Teze was the most prestigious family since the founding of the empire, wielding immense influence in every sphere of society. No single duke could have made it so powerful on his own. The many branches and distant relatives of the family had all played a role, and Lian was determined to secure his own share.

To be honest, he wasn’t the only one who felt this way. From distant cousins to in-laws, the entire clan depended on the House of Teze. Decarno wasn’t one to give out favors freely, but as long as they didn’t cross any lines, he let them have their way.

For example: quietly inserting themselves into various business ventures, using the family name to gain prestige among the nobility, that sort of thing. These were more or less tolerated privileges. And to continue enjoying those rights, the position of duchess was of utmost importance.

“…To put a penniless woman in the seat of Duchess of Teze—over my dead body.”

Truthfully, he’d never liked Evangeline. He’d dismissed her as a pampered, naïve only daughter, spoiled by Count Ohara. But Evangeline was far too clever for that. Most only saw her pretty face, but Lian saw right through her.

“She can’t fool me.”

He could tell from her calm, steady eyes that she was just as formidable as the duke himself.
She might appear generous, but she always made sure to keep a line drawn between herself and the rest of the family. Despite being at the ducal estate less than two years, she mimicked the late Duchess’s mannerisms perfectly—which Lian found both brazen and irritating.

But things were different now. The money that had made her tolerable was gone, and the Dowager Duchess was dead. Fortunately or not, Lian was not foolish enough to challenge the Duke directly. That would be suicide.

He knew well what would happen if you crossed that fearsome man.
But he wasn’t about to let some woman, sucked dry and left with nothing but her shell, remain in the family.

So, Count Lian chose a simple and certain method:

He would borrow someone else’s hand.

◇ ◆ ◇

“…What brings you here, Count?”

“Your Highness, the Princess.”

Even the mighty duke had to defer to some powers. In that respect, Princess Bellona was a perfect ally.

“You acted like you’d never come here again. This is unusual.”

“Oh, I could never stay away, Your Highness. Not for lack of desire, but out of shame…”“And you actually know what shame is?”
“Of course. But what could I have done? To be honest, no one could fill the role of Duchess

of Teze as well as you, Your Highness.”

“…Hmph.”

Princess Bellona’s snort wasn’t entirely displeased. Lian could tell he’d found the right approach.

Bellona, the emperor’s only sister, had always liked the Duke of Teze. Outwardly reserved and demure, she burned with a molten, volcanic passion underneath. Once she set her sights on something—or someone—she pursued it with relentless tenacity. She famously followed Decarno to every event, even begging her brother, the emperor, in tears to intervene.

Unfortunately, the emperor was as rational—and as averse to trouble—as Decarno. Barely established on the throne, he knew that the Duke’s support was essential to his authority among the nobility. If he forced a marriage, he’d be risking his own position.

As much as it stung to admit, Decarno was just that important in the empire.

In the end, the emperor had simply attended Decarno and Evangeline’s engagement ceremony, raising a toast to them as his answer. Even when his only sister wept and threatened to die that night, he just ignored her with a smirk, convinced she’d get over it.

But surprisingly, Bellona’s feelings for Decarno were stronger than even the emperor realized.

In her outrage, she swore she’d marry someone even greater, and, out of spite, got engaged to the Prince of Lichten, who was part of the imperial envoy, just three days after meeting him.
The emperor, baffled but relieved, happily offered a massive dowry to send his troublesome sister far away. It was better to have her gone than causing headaches at home.

Bellona returned exactly three months later, even more formidable—a jilted fiancée with a grudge.

“Honestly, I can’t help but feel all this happened so that the two of you would find your way back together,” Count Lian ventured.

“…Ah, so the rumors are true?”

Despite having collected every newspaper in Roach, Bellona’s green eyes sparkled innocently. She was endlessly naïve—at least when it came to the Duke.

“Oh dear, what a shame. Even such a noble duke must endure such things…”

“What a kind heart you have, Your Highness.”

“It breaks my heart to think of the wounds he must bear…”

Tears welled in Bellona’s eyes as she dabbed at them with a handkerchief. She seemed to sense instinctively what Count Lian was hinting at.

“…So, Count, what is it you wanted to ask me?”

“Of course, Your Highness must be the one to heal His Grace’s wounded heart.”

“Oh my! How could I…”

She covered her mouth in apparent surprise, though her fluttering lashes hinted she wanted him to go on.

“But how could the Duke possibly cast aside Lady Ohara? If he did, people would surely speak ill of him.”

“Exactly! It’s a pity he must go through with marrying her for the sake of appearances…”

Lian let out a very practiced sigh, not missing the sharp flash in Bellona’s eyes at the mention of the duke’s wedding. It was time to get to the real point.

“But if Lady Ohara were the one to call off the engagement, things would be different.”

“Pardon? What do you mean?”

“Isn’t it obvious? If Lady Ohara were the one to break it off, the Duke’s reputation would remain untarnished. If she leaves of her own accord, who could say a word against it?”

“But would she really leave so easily? Everyone knows how desperately she’s been after the Duke since the very beginning…”

Bellona’s lips curled in a slight frown—her royal status prevented her from openly speaking ill of others, but it was clear she blamed Evangeline for everything. In her eyes, it was entirely Evangeline’s scheming that had deprived her of the empire’s most eligible man.

“She won’t give up that easily. She’s always been obsessed with status.”

“But isn’t she also surprisingly proud, for someone in her position?”

“…Excuse me?”

Bellona’s ears perked up at Lian’s suggestive tone. The same words he’d whispered to her two years ago sounded even sweeter now.

“Who knows. If her pride were wounded badly enough, she just might walk away in a fit of anger.”

◇ ◆ ◇

Bellona was not the type to hesitate or waste time. The moment she heard the duke was out, she immediately sent a royal carriage to the Teze estate, and within a day, the princess had arranged to confront her rival in person.

“My, your face seems quite battered, Lady Ohara.”

“Thank you for your concern, Your Highness,” Evangeline replied, bowing her head politely. She didn’t need a mirror to know how she looked. She’d been summoned without time to tidy up; she certainly wasn’t dressed for the lavish tearoom of the imperial palace.

“I’m afraid my invitation was rather sudden, wasn’t it? I should have arranged it in advance.”

“Not at all, Your Highness.”

“Well, I thought you probably wouldn’t have any other appointments. I’ve heard you rarely go out, after all.”

Bellona smiled sweetly as she lifted her teacup, her words subtly reminding Evangeline of her current situation. But Evangeline remained calm. Other than being less polished than usual, there were few visible traces of what she’d recently endured—her face was as composed as ever.

‘Acting like she’s just fine…’

Evangeline’s refined poise, so unfitting for her predicament, made the princess uneasy. She wished Evangeline would show a little anxiety or anger; that would have made things more interesting. But Evangeline’s eyes were calm as a winter night’s lake.

“Still, I’m glad you invited me while His Grace was out. It made it much easier for me to come.”

“…Is that so?”

The suggestion that she wouldn’t have been able to come if the duke were present made Bellona’s eyes flicker. In truth, she had intentionally timed the invitation to avoid him, but Evangeline’s tone—implying the duke might be fiercely protective—rubbed her the wrong way.

Hmph. As if this wasn’t just a marriage of convenience…

The thought of the duke’s handsome face brought a surge of resentment to Bellona. She still couldn’t forget the shock she’d felt the first time she saw him at his investiture ceremony.

How could such a man even exist?

She’d lost sleep for nights as a young girl, her heart fluttering over how dignified and mature he seemed, even as he’d just come of age—surpassing even her brother, the then-crown prince. Everything about him, every word and gesture, was like something out of legend, and it had shaken her to her core.

Even the duke’s chilly demeanor—his refusal to reveal any emotion—did nothing to deter her blinded infatuation. He was cold to everyone, not just to her, and that was her sole comfort.

But now, the thought that Duke Teze might open his heart to someone else…

Bellona’s chest burned with jealousy. It seemed impossible, and yet, sitting across from Evangeline only made her more resentful.

“That’s true. His Grace is very conscious of his reputation; he certainly wouldn’t want you being publicly humiliated again, like last time. Any stain on House Teze would be unacceptable.”

“…Yes.”

“Oh dear, I suppose I’m being too serious. Forgive me,” Bellona said with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes, picking up a pastel-colored macaron.

When Evangeline’s voice grew softer, a sweet satisfaction spread through Bellona’s mouth as well.

“In fact, I’ve been worried too. How dreadful that your father, Count Ohara, met with such a tragedy.”

“…Thank you for your concern.”

“But they haven’t found a body, so there’s still hope. Who knows? He might come back safe and sound, even tomorrow.”

Bellona’s lips curled with a light, mocking smile.
The more Evangeline remained composed, the more she was determined to provoke her.