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Chapter: 57
The Happy Groom and the Surprised Guests
[T/N: Princess Memoir will be changed to Princess Memoa]
The very first thought that came to Classie was that he seemed to shine.
Kishin’s red hair, set against his white attire, gleamed even more brilliantly than usual, making his striking features stand out all the more.
The red-haired man standing in the temple looked like an angel from the first pages of a holy book—the kind of angel who wielded a spear for God, stern and full of majesty.
In an instant, all of Classie’s nerves vanished, and she was nearly moved to tears. Was this the reward for raising her niece so diligently, even while enduring Meren’s tantrums?
Standing there before the temple, Kishin felt like a divine gift bestowed upon her. Was God lending her one of His angels?
“Don’t cry.”
When tears welled up at the corners of Classie’s eyes, Miss Yvesé quickly dabbed them with a handkerchief.
Classie gave an embarrassed laugh—only to be startled when Kishin suddenly turned his body sharply to the side.
‘Why won’t he look at me? Did my makeup smear?’
But she immediately realized that wasn’t the case.
“Young master, I’m going to die—I’ve finally lived to see you embarrassed!”
The butler of House Gosville, standing beside Kishin, cried out in an excited voice.
Classie then noticed that Kishin’s ears were as red as if he were standing atop a snowy mountain.
The realization made her tears vanish instantly, replaced by heat rising from her neck.
When a male and female priest approached with bouquets, Classie could no longer bring herself to keep looking at him and had to turn away.
The female priest handed a bouquet to Classie, and the male priest gave one to Kishin.
“Proceed!”
At the booming call of the officiating priest, the sound of harps drifted in from within.
Holding their bouquets, Classie and Kishin matched their steps along the white carpet laid between the rows of devotees.
The high priest officiating the ceremony didn’t seem to know much about Classie, who had only recently moved here, but he clearly knew Kishin well, having grown up in this place.
Classie noticed the priest giving Kishin a knowing, meaningful smile.
When she and Kishin reached the front, the assisting male and female priests guided them to face each other.
Only then could Classie look at Kishin again. The moment their eyes met, her chest swelled with emotion, and a smile spread across her lips without her even realizing it.
Kishin, still red at the ears, mirrored her smile. His smile was far clearer and brighter than usual—and this wasn’t only Classie’s impression.
For when he smiled, murmurs rippled through the crowd of guests.
“The Vice commander is smiling…”
Someone—likely one of the guards—muttered in disbelief, and those who heard stifled their laughter.
When Classie glanced in the direction of the sound, she saw guards staring at them with jaws practically dropped.
While the high priest launched into a long speech about marriage, life, and family, Classie gazed only into Kishin’s eyes. And he did the same.
When the sermon ended, the priest asked,
“Kishin Hayward, will you respect and cherish Classie Kalashi for the rest of your life?”
“Yes.”
“Classie Kalashi, will you respect and cherish Kishin Hayward for the rest of your life?”
“Yes.”
“Then, please hand over your bouquets. These bouquets will be preserved as today’s proof until the final day.”
Classie gathered her bouquet with Kishin’s and handed them to the high priest.
The priest bestowed a blessing upon the flowers and placed them into the box held by an assisting priest.
Those bouquets would be stored in the shrine dedicated solely to Classie and Kishin. When the two divorced or passed away, the flowers would be taken out and buried together in the family grave.
It was said that this way, their souls would carry the same fragrance and recognize one another in the next life or even in the heavens, thus staying connected.
* * *
Classie wanted to spend some time alone with Kishin. But immediately after the wedding, the banquet was already prepared, and there were far too many distinguished guests in attendance.
As one of the day’s protagonists, she had no choice but to accompany Kishin, tirelessly greeting guests without a moment’s rest.
The guests ate the meal prepared by House Gosbil, chatting happily while praising how well-matched the bride and groom were.
She also met Kishin’s younger sister, Janet, for the first time—despite not being able to see her even once during the entire preparation period.
But the most striking encounter was with Kishin’s colleagues and subordinates.
The guards stood in a circle among themselves, not letting anyone approach, their eyes darting ceaselessly in the direction that Kishin and Classie moved.
It seemed they still hadn’t recovered from the shock of seeing Kishin smile so clearly. And the reflection of that surprise was now directed at Classie.
As they gazed at her with slack-jawed awe, as though she were some extraordinary figure, Classie grew self-conscious and asked Kishin:
“Do you not smile much usually? Your men keep staring at me like I’m some famous circus master.”
“I try to eliminate emotions as much as possible while working. Personal feelings interfere with making important decisions. But in daily life, I do smile.”
Even his attempt to salvage his image struck Classie as endearing.
“I see. Well, it doesn’t matter. As long as you smile for me.”
When Classie whispered this, Kishin deliberately turned and smiled at her. It was beautiful, though barely a sliver of a smile.
Finding it so lovable, Classie couldn’t help but clutch him and laugh brightly.
“You really are close, aren’t you?”
Someone approached and spoke, but Classie couldn’t immediately stop laughing.
“Princess Memoa.”
Meanwhile, Kishin instantly erased that faint smile and bowed to the approaching woman. At the word Princess, Classie’s laughter died away completely.
‘So this is the famous Princess Memoa.’
It was Princess Memoa who designed Driblue Square, which Classie had often visited since arriving in the capital. And it was also thanks to Princess Memoa that Kishin had received his dukedom at such a young age.
Having heard of her in many ways, Classie quickly offered a respectful greeting.
“I pay my respects, Your Highness.”
“Not today. It must be exhausting to bow in such a heavy dress.”
Princess Memoa stopped her gently, even offering support.
When Classie straightened, the princess smiled warmly and teased,
“I always wondered who on earth the stone-faced Duke Hayward would marry. He always claimed he had no intention of marrying. But it looks like it wasn’t that he didn’t want to—it was that he was waiting for such a stunning beauty.”
Even as the princess teased, Kishin remained expressionless.
Worried the princess might feel awkward, Classie deliberately laughed out loud.
Fortunately, the princess seemed accustomed to Kishin’s manner, asking with no offense,
“But where is Dernick? I don’t see him.”
Kishin replied, “He should be with Miss Merran.”
“Miss Merran? I’ve never heard of her. Who is she?”
Classie, who had been listening quietly, cautiously interjected.
“She is my niece, Your Highness.”
The princess nodded in understanding.
“Dernick likes children. He must have gone to play with her.”
Feeling awkward, Classie glanced sideways at Kishin. Since she’d only just met the princess today, it was difficult for her to correct the misunderstanding herself. She hoped that Kishin, who had known the princess since childhood, would step in.
“Miss Merran is an adult, Your Highness.”
Kishin immediately clarified, and his quick perceptiveness pleased Classie. As long as it wasn’t a case of prejudice or misinterpretation, he truly was sharp.
“An adult?”
Princess Memoa looked at Classie with surprise, then her face took on the familiar expression others often wore. Since Classie was used to it, she explained honestly.
“There’s a five-year gap between us, Your Highness. I was a late-born child, and my elder sister married very young.”
“Ah, I see. I myself have only six years between me and my aunt.”
For a moment, Princess Memoa’s expression grew complicated. Unsure how to react, Classie imitated Kishin and gave the tiniest of smiles.
The “aunt” the princess mentioned was Princess Sage, and knowing the very delicate, tangled relationship between them made Classie uncomfortable.
‘Conversations with royalty aren’t easy at all.’
Though she had said only a few words, Classie was completely drained. She was already exhausted from rising before dawn to prepare, and now even casual conversation required every ounce of focus.
Even though Kishin continued to converse with the princess by her side, and the princess treated Classie with warmth, she still found it tiring.
Sweating nervously, Classie drew out a handkerchief and dabbed at her forehead. But perhaps that was a mistake. The princess’s face suddenly hardened.
‘Is it wrong to take out a handkerchief before royalty? I’ve never heard of such a rule…’
Thinking she’d erred, Classie lowered her hand. At once, the princess’s eyes followed it directly downwards.
It wasn’t the handkerchief she was staring at, but the ring on Classie’s fourth finger—the very ring Merran had called a cheap trinket.
‘She isn’t shocked because it’s truly cheap… is she?’
But the princess’s expression was so openly stunned that it was impossible to pretend not to notice.
Hoping it was nothing serious, Classie asked carefully,
“Your Highness? What is the matter?”
* * *
