IRGS 25

Chapter 25

“Alright. I’ll marry you.”

At my words, I witnessed the man’s face light up as if he had gained the entire world.

My face was caught between his hands. Then that sculpted, perfect face leaned in and attacked my lips. Soft lips covered mine in an instant before pulling away again. It was a movement like a predator striking.

Last time it was my cheek, but this time—it was my lips! Without even asking!

While I was still flustered, the man smiled faintly and said,

“If that displeased you, I’ll accept punishment.”

Hah. They say it’s easier to ask for forgiveness than permission.

And it seemed that was true. Because I wasn’t actually upset. Rather… it was so brief that it felt unsatisfying.

I put on a prim expression and lightly tapped his shoulder.

“Stop trying to make me look like a violent woman and get up. You’re a duke, and yet you keep kneeling like this—what am I supposed to do?”

“Then who else should I kneel before, if not you?”

“Then just kneel only in front of me.”

Owen took my hand, still held tightly in his, and kissed the back of it.

“I will do exactly that.”

After that, Owen and I discussed several important matters.

The first was the wedding.

Owen looked like he would marry me immediately if I only agreed. It seemed he wanted to make it official before I could change my mind. However—

“No, that won’t do.”

“Why not?”

“There’s the Empress’s birthday banquet in two weeks. We should start preparations after that.”

Our marriage meant the union of two of the four great noble houses that supported the Empire. Even my engagement to Arnold hadn’t been rushed like this. Much less a wedding.

After some back and forth, Owen eventually admitted I was right.

He muttered sulkily,

“I wish I could close my eyes and open them to find it already our wedding day.”

“Why? Can’t you wait?”

“Do you even need to ask? I want to hold the wedding right now, even if it’s in the duke’s stable with Thunderroot and Dagdag as guests. I’d even distribute announcements across the Empire.”

Good grief. He really had made announcing things by proclamation his hobby.

I laughed and lightly hit his shoulder, but my hand was caught mid-motion.

He pulled my hand to his lips and kissed it again.

“But if I think about you becoming my bride in such a sacred ceremony, then I suppose I cannot allow such a crude method.”

His gaze turned serious.

“I promise I will make you the happiest bride in the Empire, so that you will never regret choosing me.”

I felt a little shy and answered,

“I’m already quite happy, you know.”

“Not yet. You mustn’t be satisfied yet, Sophie. I’m quite decent with my clothes on, but…”

Owen leaned close and whispered into my ear.

“Without them, I’m even more impressive. You can look forward to the day I’m allowed to make you cry properly.”

The moment I understood what he meant, my face burned instantly. I had no personal experience, but I had heard enough. And even through clothing, his body was the most impressive I had ever seen.

My thoughts quickly drifted—unintentionally—toward the time we once rode Dagdag together, and how aware I had been of… that… whenever our bodies bumped.

I must have glanced downward for a moment without realizing it, because Owen suddenly grabbed a cushion from the sofa and placed it over his lap, as if hiding himself. He looked slightly embarrassed.

“I concede. You are far more indecent than I am.”

“That’s not what I meant!”

I shouted, but Owen kept the cushion there until the end of the conversation.

The second topic was where I would stay until the wedding.

Originally, I planned to stay at the duchy after breakfast, then go to a hotel in the capital with Arne and remain there for a while. I couldn’t leave Arne in the duke’s residence indefinitely. I intended to explain things to him over a week and take care of arrangements.

Unexpectedly, after breakfast at the ducal estate, the new “event” called Owen and Sophie’s engagement decision had occurred. But that didn’t change my plans.

Owen, however, did not agree.

“Are you dissatisfied with the ducal residence?”
“If there’s anything you dislike, I’ll fix it.”
“If you insist on leaving, I will even buy the hotel you’re staying at without your knowledge.”

He kept insisting until I finally surrendered.

“Sophie, once we marry, we’ll be living together anyway. Wouldn’t it be better to adjust in advance?”

“But…”

Owen genuinely looked as if he didn’t understand why I insisted on the hotel.

After hesitating, I told him honestly.

“It’s not that I don’t trust the duchy. But from the servants’ perspective, how shocking would it be if the future duchess suddenly showed up out of nowhere? This is the first time a woman my age has stayed here. There must be preparations. Besides, I didn’t even pack my things because I thought I’d be going to a hotel.”

And more honestly, I wanted to make a good impression on the staff. I didn’t want to appear as if I had rolled in suddenly like a stone from nowhere. I wanted to go through proper introductions and procedures.

I didn’t say that last part because it felt embarrassing.

But Owen laughed as if he could hear my thoughts.

Even when I glared at him, he only covered his mouth with one hand and didn’t stop laughing.

Annoyed, I stood up.

“I’ll wait outside. Call me when you’re done laughing.”

Owen quickly reached out and took my hand. When I didn’t pull away, he even interlaced our fingers.

“With such a cute reason, you don’t need to worry.”

“Don’t trivialize my concerns, Your Grace. I’m very serious.”

“It’s Owen. And I’m quite serious myself.”

Right. That was true.

“Sophie, will you stay at the ducal residence and trust me? As my fiancée?”

In the end, I sat back down.

“…Fine. Alright.”

The final matter was Arne’s new identity.

Originally, I planned to register Arne as the late-born child of the Bartholomew Marquis family—posing him as an illegitimate son of the marquis. I couldn’t leave him as an unidentified orphan forever. I even planned to use Bamby to exploit the marquis’s weakness for this.

It was unfortunate for Arne, but even if I claimed he was my biological son, no one would believe it. So I thought it was the best option.

But Owen made an unexpected proposal.

“Would you allow Arne to be registered as the youngest of the Glentino Ducal House? And later, formally adopted as our child?”

“Glentino… House?”

“Yes. Ten years ago, my father was still in good health, so we can present him as a late-born child between my parents. We can say he was sent to the countryside due to poor health.”

What…?

Everyone knew a duke’s youngest son was far better than an illegitimate child of a marquis. Even a passing Thunderroot would know that. And this clearly put Owen at a disadvantage—if Arne were registered that way and I ran away, Owen would be left to bear responsibility alone.

Yet Owen looked almost apologetic.

“Of course, I would love to publicly declare Arne as our biological son. But circumstances make that difficult.”

I quickly nodded.

“That’s a good idea. But will the dowager duchess agree? I mean… Owen’s mother.”

Come to think of it, I would become the duchess soon. My face grew a little warm.

Owen said casually,

“We should go ask for her permission. I’ve actually sent her several letters, but she hasn’t replied. After my father passed away, she left the capital and returned to her hometown.”

Something felt odd.

Letters? Several?

We had only just discussed Arne’s adoption now—when had he sent them?

As I narrowed my eyes at him, Owen continued calmly and dropped a shocking suggestion.

“Since we also need to inform her of our marriage anyway, let’s go visit my mother together—with Arne.”