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Chapter : 18
She stood before the shattered window and waved casually.
The dresser lay toppled in the garden, and both Lauren and Cedric’s faces were covered with scratches. Even their dress and shirt were stained with blood.
Silence fell. Moments ago the reporters had been noisy, but now they were quiet.
“Well? Any more questions?”
Lauren smiled brightly.
“T-that injury…?”
One reporter timidly pointed to the long cut on Lauren’s neck.
“Oh, this?”
She wiped away the dried blood with her hand.
“It’s nothing. Cedric and I had a little argument about the wedding venue. In the end, we decided to do it my way. We’re going to have a grand wedding.”
That was all it took for a storm of questions to erupt.
“…Are you insane?”
Cedric whispered.
“Insane? You said this was the safest place, didn’t you? So I figured I’d settle down here permanently. Is that not allowed?”
Lauren beamed. Either way, now was not the time for them to glare at each other.
Cedric stepped forward and blocked Lauren with his own body.
“Answer properly. Before this wedding announcement turns into an obituary.”
From behind him, she threatened Cedric. He ignored her.
With her ears pricked to Cedric’s voice, Lauren scanned the reporters one by one. Noah had to be somewhere in the crowd, but she couldn’t see well past the people.
Ah, there he is.
Red hair flashed between the bodies. They definitely made eye contact, and yet he avoided her gaze. He was misunderstanding something. Badly.
I should probably explain I’m not actually crazy…
Just as she opened her mouth to speak, Cedric’s arm wrapped firmly around her shoulder. Startled, she nearly slapped it away on reflex.
“Don’t move. Just stay still. I’m not going to do anything.”
If she hadn’t heard his low whisper, she would have pushed him away with all her strength, reporters be damned. Lauren tightened her grip on the revolver, worried he might take it from her.
What was he scheming? Lauren’s whole body tensed like a razor’s edge. Perhaps sensing it, Cedric sighed quietly.
“I said I’m not doing anything.”
“…Then what is this?”
“I’m handling the mess.”
He growled under his breath—completely at odds with the serene smile on his face.
To keep reporters from sensing anything strange—aside from the fact that they were announcing a wedding in front of a broken window—Cedric tenderly stroked Lauren’s shoulder, as though touching fragile crystal.
A chill crawled up Lauren’s neck.
“That’s enough. She’s not very strong.”
Cedric jerked his chin toward the shattered window. No more chaos.
Understanding his intention, Lauren coughed loudly, as if she were gravely ill. A bit late, perhaps.
“See? She’s already shivering.”
“I feel dizzy, Ced—…”
She let her body tilt gently toward Cedric. “Ced,”—an absurdly half-hearted nickname.
“Lauren, are you alright?”
Cedric gazed deeply into her eyes. Lauren silently watched his lips form words.
Go… inside… now?
She nodded, backed away, using his body as a shield.
They would deny it to their graves, but the two made a remarkably coordinated pair.
And that’s how the historic wedding declaration—from window exit to window entrance—came to an end.
* * *
Marriage in this era was grueling. For nobles, it was practically an official ceremony buried under rules and procedures.
Romantic fantasies of marrying for love existed only in cheap storybooks. When the time came, one simply picked someone appropriate and held the ceremony. Family interests were the driving force.
Among nobles, marriage wasn’t merely a relationship between man and woman—it was a transaction.
Living together before marriage or breaking off an engagement brought disgrace and years of gossip, along with the label of being unreliable.
And calling the press to announce a wedding? Unthinkable. It was not the sort of claim one could take back with, “Just kidding—fooled you all!”
Before the newspapers even circulated the capital, scheming aristocrats would send letters.
In short, Cedric and Lauren had tumbled together into a mud pit—certified by the king’s seal.
Escaping it would require sacrificing their honor. Which was exactly what Lauren aimed for.
Noble marriages were contracts between families. Stepping into the same wedding aisle meant that other nobles would view Lauren and Cedric as business partners.
From now on, invitations to social events would arrive addressed to both of them.
And that’s how I’ll survive.
It was a chance the daughter of Viscount Bailey would never have had.
Meet as many nobles as possible. Make connections—so that even if the curse linking their injuries lifted, Cedric wouldn’t be able to kill her. And while she was at it, siphon some of Cedric’s assets.
A perfect plan.
Loud in execution, but effective—Cedric had no choice but to get dragged into it.
Good things happen when you cause trouble, huh.
Despite the uproar, no servant dared ask questions. The estate was strangely quiet, as though nothing had happened.
Cedric paced the hallway, breathing deeply. Lauren leaned against the doorframe, watching him—revolver still in hand.
Cedric pressed his fingers into his brow. He felt like someone had smacked the back of his head with a hammer.
It was better than staging a double-suicide act in front of journalists, sure—but still.
“Why did you do that?”
His gaze stabbed into Lauren. His voice sounded strained, like he was holding back much more.
“Now all someone has to do is open a newspaper to know exactly where you are. Among them will be people who want both you and me dead. Did you think at all before acting?”
Lauren snorted at the accusation.
So now this is my fault?
She rapped her knuckles against the wall as if knocking. The sudden noise cut Cedric off.
“Hey. That’s exactly what I wanted. For people to know where I am. No one cares about Viscount Bailey’s daughter, but everyone will pay attention to the future bride of Earl Collins.”
“THAT’S exactly what makes it insane!”
His voice rose. Lauren glared back.
“That’s your opinion! What’s insane is sitting here forever, knowing nothing!”
“For your safety—”
“Shut your mouth, Cedric. I’ll decide that for myself.”
She looked ready to slap him if he kept talking. With the gun in hand, she blocked his way. Their eyes clashed in the air.
“You got everything you wanted. Now lower the gun, will you?”
“No. I’ve just realized this is the only way to have an actual ‘conversation.’ Amazing that I didn’t know sooner.”
She opened the chamber and counted the bullets—less out of curiosity than to get on Cedric’s nerves.
His jaw tightened. He ground his teeth.
“Do you even understand how reckless you were? Look—here. And your face.”
He touched the dried blood at her neckline—the scratched shirt collar, the cuts from broken glass.
“What do you think the reporters made of those matching wounds? How unhinged do you think this looks? Honestly.”
