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Chapter 7
“I’m a narrow-minded person. Do you really think I have any reason to remain loyal to this family?”
The Grand Duke looked at me with bloodshot eyes. At my shabby room, at the space with not even a proper decoration, at the woman inside it whose eyes burned with a desire for revenge.
With every flicker in his gaze, a thrilling feeling rose inside me.
Yes. What if, just maybe, perhaps. What if the woman in front of him was different from the other people of the marquis family?
Think about that possibility. Fall for it, Darius.
Like the kind-hearted male protagonist who never gives up on his belief in humanity. Show that ideal image.
“You are….”
“Anette Fosche was an irrelevant person in the Fosche household.”
I spoke firmly.
“But now I’ve been given a chance to live again, and I intend to take it.”
Of course, that “chance” meant becoming the wife of the Grand Duke of Inkhart.
“I will devote everything I have to this new life. For Inkhart. So I hope Your Grace can give me just one thing in return. Your goodwill toward me.”
As long as I didn’t end up like in the original story—abandoned in a remote castle by the male lead until I died—I had a chance to start over.
“If you wish, you can divorce me after a few years of marriage. I truly don’t mind. If it means escaping this miserable Fosche marquis family and starting a new life, I’ll do anything.”
Just in case, I couldn’t miss the chance to emphasize that I would never interfere with the future heroine.
I walked toward him holding a candle. In the dark night, only the small flame quietly watched over the two of us.
“So, why don’t you try trusting me once?”
I was shorter than him. I stood beneath his chin.
Clang, thud, thud.
The sound of metal hitting the floor echoed heavily. The male lead—Darius—finally removed that damn silver mask.
“Pleased to meet you, Your Grace the Grand Duke.”
Black hair, and equally black eyes. Features so striking they were impossible to forget after seeing them once.
Those previously cold black eyes regained warmth as they looked at me, as if drawing me within his boundary.
It was a face Anette Fosche in the original story had never once seen.
My heart pounded. Because he was too handsome? No.
“Just this moment alone is enough for me not to regret becoming Your Grace’s wife.”
At last, I had changed the original story. Even if only a small fragment, the original plot was beginning to shift.
In the original, Anette had never once seen the Grand Duke’s face—but I had seen his true face.
“And I swear—you will not regret marrying me either.”
I would become a good extra wife. I would help the male lead strengthen the North, and when the heroine appeared, I would cleanly step aside. Then I would gather my fortune and build my new life. That was how my new beginning would start.
He had intended never to show his face to a woman from the Fosche family. This marriage was purely political. The South would gain the honor of marrying into the ducal house, and the North would receive much-needed supplies—nothing more than a cold transaction.
Despite the obvious hostility he had shown at their first meal together, Anette Fosche approached him without hesitation. And then she proposed a deal.
Darius looked at the silver mask he had removed himself, disbelief in his eyes.
〈So I can at least see my husband’s face before getting married.〉
Anette Fosche had always been confident. Every report written about her had been false. She had never hesitated, always enduring every form of mistreatment with resilience.
〈I’m a narrow-minded person. Do you really think I have any reason to remain loyal to this family?〉
Her eyes had shone when she said that. More courageous than any woman of the North.
“Strange. The southern air, which had felt sticky and irritating on the first day, doesn’t feel disgusting anymore.”
Without the mask, the air of the South felt different. It was refreshing.
“Anette Fosche.”
At the short call of her name, she reacted. It felt strange.
Something was changing. And she was the beginning of it.
The woman who said she would become his wife and a true member of the North.
“Ah, of course, I’m not proposing marriage in a romantic sense. I’m not after the power or prestige of being a duchess either. An alliance—I formally propose a marriage alliance to Your Grace. …That sounds right, doesn’t it? That’s how people usually say it, right?”
“What did you say?”
“Please forget the last part. I’m just nervous. Who knew I’d actually be saying something I only read in books?”
It was a strange ending, but a logical proposal nonetheless.
Perhaps thinking he wouldn’t believe her, Anette repeatedly emphasized that the marriage was only in name. That once things stabilized between her and the North, a divorce would be fine.
Anette Fosche was not an ordinary woman. She spoke of divorce even while proposing marriage. She approached him familiarly, as if they had known each other for a long time despite meeting for the first time.
Was this what noble ladies raised in wealthy but hostile households became?
No. Only Anette was like this.
Darius felt a strange certainty. If he married Anette Fosche, their marriage might not be just another political arrangement—it might become something more.
‘I suppose I’ll have to retract what I said to Daniel.’
He had once warned Daniel, who defended Anette, not to be fooled by the warm air of the South.
But it had been he who misjudged her.
“If you are willing to risk everything, then I too will do my utmost.”
He wanted to give her a chance. Just one chance to trust her.
The possibility that Anette Fosche might truly be someone useful made Darius laugh at himself inwardly.
“But if your words are false, you must be prepared to take responsibility.”
“Of course. Even if you take my life, I will not complain.”
“You speak of death so easily. Have you ever died before?”
So she really was a southern noblewoman after all—talking about death as if it were nothing, unaware of how cruel it truly was.
“…Of course, no living person has ever died.”
For a moment, she looked like she was smiling. Though that was impossible.
“I promise you this, on what I believe to be the most painful thing imaginable. As long as this marriage lasts, I will remain faithful to Your Grace.”
Anette’s burning blue eyes and Darius’s dark eyes clashed like sparks.
“As long as you do so, I will do the same.”
If she truly abandoned the Fosche family and devoted herself to the North, then he would protect her.
He would respect her not as a nominal wife, but as a partner.
But if this were all deceit, then he was prepared to bring her sufficient suffering.
The North was not gentle, but it was unified—and it never forgave betrayal.
There was no vow kiss. No embrace. Not even a handshake. But both understood that they had staked their trust in this moment.
After several formal meetings between the families, the marriage between the Grand Duke and me was finalized, and we officially became husband and wife. However, there was no grand wedding. Only the signing of a contract filled with detailed clauses.
“We can have the wedding in the North.”
The marquis’s wife said this, expressing her unwillingness to even hold a ceremony for her unwanted daughter.
“This means our family will now be listed on the Golden Plate.”
The marquis said with satisfaction, stroking his goat-like beard.
The Golden Plate referred to the families considered the most noble among nobles.
No matter how wealthy, how newly risen, or even how prestigious a noble house was, it could not casually be placed on the Golden Plate.
Only families connected by blood to the royal family or ducal houses were recognized as noble bloodlines and granted that title.
And only those families could marry into royalty.
The current crown prince was unmarried.
〈There will be a selection for the crown princess soon. We must raise our family’s status by then.〉
The marquis couple believed their beloved daughter Caitlin would surely become crown princess if their house qualified.
That was why they agreed to marry Darius and Anette in exchange for enormous supplies of cotton and food that could sustain the entire North for three years.
‘If she becomes crown princess, the world is truly doomed.’
I could see right through the Fosche marquis couple’s intentions, but I didn’t bother reacting. Caitlin, crown princess? Daydreams are free—dream all you want.
There was no wedding, but the gifts were extravagant. On the day I left for the North, a carriage loaded with wheat and cotton followed behind me. This was only a display; even more supplies were to be sent after the marriage.
“Anette unni, congratulations on your marriage.”
Caitlin, who came to see me off, hugged me like a loving sister. But after the warm embrace, a sharp whisper of malice slid into my ear.
“A dark land full of monsters… it suits you perfectly. Go there and never come back.”
“Is your hair I pulled out growing back well? It looks a bit thin from up close—I’m worried.”
If I had pulled it all out, she could’ve at least worn a wig over the bald spots. My quiet remark made Caitlin’s face turn pale instantly, as if she had already been worrying about it.
Seriously, picking a fight with someone out of your league like that?
