LTTK 06

Chapter 6

‘I’ve been caught.’

Arne bit her lip as her eyes met Cassian’s. She had been trying to slip away quietly, but it ended in failure. Turning her gaze away from him, she briefly considered what to do.

‘Should I just knock him out?’

She decided to leave that as a last resort.

“What are you doing?”

“Well, that is…”

Arne trailed off, her eyes wandering everywhere but his. Now that she’d been caught, it didn’t seem like any excuse would work.

‘Should I just tell him the truth?’

But no matter what, how could she openly tell her groom, ‘I was trying to escape because I don’t want to spend the wedding night with you’? Sure, she could if she really wanted to, but even Arne had enough judgment and conscience to filter her words.

Cassian’s face grew darker as he asked again. His low voice brushed against her eardrums.

“I asked what you were doing.”

“Uh, well, I mean, I was just…”

‘What should I even say?’

Nothing came to mind. She tried to come up with some half-baked excuse, but surprisingly, her mind was completely blank.

“Sightseeing?”

“…”

“I just… wanted to get a bit of fresh air.”

“At this hour? By climbing onto the window ledge?”

“…”

Obviously suspicious. Arne gave up on making excuses. While she stalled awkwardly, Cassian’s suspicions only grew deeper. His sharp gaze bore into her, making her squirm until she looked away. He didn’t like that at all.

Even without asking further, it was obvious what had happened—Arne had been about to jump out the window. The grand duchess’s chambers were on a very high floor. A fall from there meant certain death. Cassian’s expression hardened.

“You weren’t… planning to kill yourself, were you?”

“…What?”

Arne’s eyes went wide at the sudden question. She wasn’t acting—she was genuinely shocked. That had never once crossed her mind.

‘Would falling from here really kill someone?’

Probably not…? Arne, who always forgot that her own standards were far from ordinary, hesitated. Meanwhile, Cassian’s face grew even more grim.

“I wasn’t thinking about dying. Really.”

“I see.”

Arne tried hard to emphasize her sincerity, but his reply came with an unreadable look. His expression, devoid of warmth, left her flustered. Cassian was never the most cheerful person, but he didn’t normally create this suffocating kind of tension either.

‘He almost looks angry…?’

When she nervously glanced at him, his expression only grew heavier. He had finally gained a precious bride, only to nearly lose her on the very first night. But worse than that was the belief that Arne had wanted to die—it dragged his mood into the abyss. He didn’t even know why.

“I really just wanted to enjoy the nice weather outside.”

“At night?”

“Night air can be nice too!”

How dare he dismiss the beauty of night weather? Arne protested earnestly, and for the first time, Cassian’s expression loosened a little. Whether out of disbelief or because he decided to let it slide, the mood softened.

‘Why on earth does he think I’d want to die?’

She wasn’t obsessed with preserving her life, but she had no intention of throwing it away either. All she wanted was to survive this wedding night. For a fleeting second, she considered confessing the truth, but quickly decided against it. It seemed safer to let him misunderstand this as a suicide attempt rather than admit she was trying to avoid sleeping with him.

Still perched awkwardly on the ledge—unable to jump, yet unable to back down—Arne hesitated. Cassian approached and extended his hand. After a moment of doubt, she took it. His grip tightened slightly as he helped her off the ledge. Then, without even realizing, he murmured:

“Treasure your life.”

Arne nodded. His gaze lingered on her, unreadable—was he truly worried, or was there something else behind those words? He hadn’t planned to, but somehow, whenever he was with her, Cassian found himself losing his composure. His eyes darkened as he wondered if it was safe to ignore this strange crack forming inside him.

Meanwhile, Arne was lost in her own thoughts, oblivious to the way he was looking at her.

‘Oh no, what do I do about the wedding night?’

At this rate, Cassian was doomed. If he laid a hand on her, she was fairly certain she would end up killing him.

‘Am I really going to become the wife who kills her husband on their wedding night?!’

Just as Arne tensed, Cassian suddenly sighed deeply.

‘I thought she seemed fine, but to think she was driven to attempt suicide on our first night…’

Arne’s nanny, Eva, had told him her body was fragile, but it seemed her spirit was just as delicate. Gently, Cassian guided her to bed, pulled the covers up to her chin, and tucked her in.

“…?!”

What was happening right now? Arne blinked, confused. Then, as if bidding a child goodnight, Cassian patted her shoulder.

“You must be exhausted. Rest well.”

“…?”

Was this… okay? It was their wedding night, after all. Could it really end like this? Arne felt oddly conflicted. It was a relief, but also… strange.

Cassian caught her expression and smiled faintly. Then, leaning in close, his breath brushed against her. Arne instinctively squeezed her eyes shut.

But instead of what she feared, all she heard was his low chuckle.

“Think of nothing and sleep peacefully.”

The warmth she expected on her lips instead brushed lightly against her forehead. Arne’s face twisted in a peculiar mix of embarrassment and irritation. Cassian seemed amused by her expression, chuckled, and as if that had been his plan all along, rose, turned off the light, and left the room.

‘Did he really leave?’

Staring at the closed door, Arne sat up abruptly and rubbed her forehead with a scowl.

“Treating me like a child… how irritating.”

In truth, it was closer to treating her like a cat, though she didn’t know that yet.

***

For nobles, marriage was a tool—a calculated transaction aimed at the prosperity of the family. It was only natural. That’s why most people assumed the Grand Duke of Ternujén’s marriage was no different.

At least, until they saw the ceremony.

“Did you see the way His Grace looked at the Grand Duchess?”

“His eyes were practically dripping with honey!”

“They say it was love at first sight. I believe it.”

“They’re such a beautiful couple—it’s rare to see such a match!”

And when the Grand Duchess skipped the wedding-night banquet, while Cassian and the household maids fussed over Arne protectively, the rumors only grew more colorful, fueled by everyone’s imagination.

“Is it true the Grand Duke fell in love at first sight?”

“I heard he chased out every man who dared look at her lustfully!”

“He must love her so much if he hides her away like a treasure!”

Misunderstandings spread like wildfire.

“Oh my, the two must be so happy!”

Everyone dreamed of their rosy love life—except the couple themselves.

Fortunately, by the next day Arne had already gone back to her usual catlike lounging, curled up in an ancient tree in the castle grounds. Cassian stared at that tree for a long while. Nobody else noticed, but there was a strange current between them, and both were aware of it—pretending not to be.

‘What on earth is he doing?’

Allen, Cassian’s right-hand man and advisor, had been watching him for some time, baffled. In all the years he had served, he had never seen Cassian so distracted.

‘Don’t tell me he’s… in lo…ve…?’

Allen shuddered at the ridiculous thought. Cassian, in love? He’d sooner believe the sun would rise backward.

“The day His Grace falls in love will come only when the world itself flips upside down.”

“Allen.”

“Yes—yes, Your Grace.”

Startled, Allen stammered a reply. Had his thoughts been read? A bead of cold sweat slid down his temple. Cassian spoke.

“I have a question.”

“Please ask.”

“What does it mean if a bride attempts suicide on her wedding night?”

“…?”

For once, Allen was completely thrown off. He had expected a weighty political question, but instead—this? Seeing his confusion, Cassian gave him a cold smile. Allen quickly gathered himself.

“I don’t know for certain, but… perhaps it means she hates the marriage enough to die?”

“….”

Cassian fell silent, his aura growing sharper.

“So that’s the only possible meaning.”

He muttered darkly, making Allen frown.

“Who exactly attempted suicide, if I may ask?”

“Well…”

Cassian’s vague answer only deepened his unease.

‘He never used to care about such gossip…’

There was no doubt—Cassian had changed. And Allen knew exactly when it started. Scowling briefly, he quickly resumed his duties.

“Ah, right. Your Grace, the Second Prince asked me to deliver this to you.”

“Mackenzie left right after the wedding?”

“Yes.”

Prince Mackenzie had been the only representative of the imperial family to attend the ceremony. Cassian studied the documents Mackenzie left behind, tapping them thoughtfully with his fingers. Allen carefully ventured:

“Your Grace, when will you pay respects to His Imperial Majesty?”

Cassian tossed him the invitation Mackenzie had delivered.

“Soon.”

The seal belonged to Giuseppe, Emperor of the Northern Empire.

Meanwhile, in the splendid gardens of Ternujén Castle, Arne sipped tea brewed by her nanny Eva while glancing at the magic orb. Inside it, Duchess Brilhit’s smiling face filled the view.

— [So? Was it good?]

The sudden, contextless question nearly made Arne spit out her tea. Nothing had happened last night, so there was nothing to be “good” or “bad.” Unsure how to respond, she stayed silent. The Duchess, mistaking her silence for embarrassment, chuckled happily.

— [Hoho, such a wonderful time for you.]

Arne simply let her mother misunderstand.

— [To think my daughter has married and even spent her wedding night! Truly, one must live long to see such things!]

“Cough—cough, ack!”

“Milady Arne! Are you alright?!”

“I’m—cough, cough—fine.”

— [Oh dear, are you okay, my daughter?]

Despite Arne choking on her tea, the garden remained peaceful. After some thought, she made up her mind.

‘I really need to get rid of that orb when no one’s looking.’

She had thought distance would mean less interference, but she had been wrong. The magic orb was useful for communication, but being monitored daily was irritating. She even considered crushing it with her strength and making it look like an accident. Oblivious to Arne’s dark thoughts, the Duchess cheerfully added:

— [Oh, by the way, your subordinates are in chaos. The Golden Dragon Knights have gone on strike, demanding your return. His Majesty asked me to beg you to intervene—he says only you can calm them.]

“Strike?”

— [Yes. A few have even gone missing. His Majesty has tried contacting you several times for help, but apparently you haven’t answered?]

“…”

— *[He told me, with tears in his eyes, how hurt and abandoned he felt.] *

“You could just tell Uncle. He can handle it.”

Arne meant Duke Sarno, who had traveled with them to officiate the wedding. But the Duchess shook her head.

— *[He doesn’t seem to see him much either.] *

“He’s just busy.”

Definitely not avoiding out of laziness.

‘But they went on strike?’

Arne thought back to her subordinates, who had vehemently opposed her marriage. When she first told them, the reactions had been:

“What? You, Lady Arne?”

“Pfft.”

“Are you dreaming?”

“Haha, who’d ever marry you!”

“Snrk—how about me as your husband instead?”

They had laughed, ridiculed, and refused to take it seriously. Arne had swallowed her true plan—to divorce after three months. Remembering it now, her fists clenched.

“I’ll never forgive them.”

While she fumed over her subordinates, a maid came hopping over. It was Erika.

“Your Grace, the Grand Duke has sent you a gift!”

“…A gift?”

Out of nowhere? Arne assumed it would be a small token, but to her surprise, several large, wrapped boxes were carried in and stacked before her. Inside the orb, her mother went wild.

— [Oh my, how romantic! Showering you with gifts already! Where could we ever find such a son-in-law? He must truly adore you!]

Arne, unable to understand how her mother could say that after forcing her into this political marriage, ignored her. She’d learned long ago how to tune her out.

Still, when the pile of boxes reached mountain-like proportions, even Arne was taken aback.

‘Is this because he thinks I tried to kill myself?’

A pang of guilt flickered through her. Just then, she sensed something unusual amid the bustle of people coming and going.

‘What’s this?’

Her eyes sharpened. Turning her head, she locked eyes with a man hiding among the neatly trimmed bushes in the garden.