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Chapter : 8
‘…I thought she hadn’t fully recovered.’
She was a woman so unwell that even white powder couldn’t properly hide it. Though he had given up his seat, she would surely be preoccupied with another matter now.
For instance, finding the seventh candidate for a political marriage.
He hadn’t meant to dwell on it, but seeing the woman constantly overexert herself made his thoughts drift there instinctively.
Shaking the thought off deliberately, Enoch reached for the proposal.
“By the way. Did you look into what I mentioned?”
“Yes. You were right, Master. It seems the relatives have been reaching out to the families of the young ladies who’ve been sending introductions lately.”
Enoch wasn’t surprised by his butler Ben’s words—it was exactly what he’d expected.
They were the ones who had used everything of Aratus as if it were their own for nearly ten years.
Though he had stripped them of all collateral privileges and driven them out of the capital, they weren’t the type to stay quiet.
And now, just as the head of the house—long since of age—had no fiancée to speak of.
His marriage would be the relatives’ last chance to return to the family’s inner circle.
With letters of introduction pouring in, they probably thought he wouldn’t be able to investigate who was in league with them.
Enoch had no intention of letting this go.
If an excuse for interference had arisen, then all he had to do was eliminate it.
“We should nip this in the bud before it grows.”
“We’re securing a list. However, they’re moving extremely discreetly, so it may take some time.”
Knowing who was behind it and which families to avoid wouldn’t be enough.
In the end, this so-called opportunity would only truly be resolved once a real mistress of the house existed.
“…Shall I get married?”
“Pardon? You mean that seriously?”
“Well, given the circumstances, it’s not impossible.”
The butler and aide were taken aback, but Enoch meant it.
He had already been uneasy about leaving internal affairs to his younger sister, who lacked the proper training of a noble.
And if having a companion by his side would help—and even cut off the relatives’ grasp—then marriage didn’t sound so bad.
After all, hadn’t he long been prepared for a political marriage?
Enoch glanced down at the proposal for a moment. His conditions were firm.
A woman who had no need to join hands with his relatives.
A noblewoman with the background and resolve to firmly reject temptation, should it arise.
It was ironic that the very woman who fit those conditions perfectly was the one he’d just tried so hard not to think about.
“My lord. The vassals’ council has been convened.”
“I’ll go now.”
Agatha Nobilis would never choose him.
The man she wanted now wasn’t the head of a shaky marquisate, but a husband who could offer something directly to the Emperor.
Rising with the proposal in hand, Enoch instructed his butler Ben,
“Once you secure the list, draw up a list of candidates for a political marriage too. From families that will never side with the relatives.”
“…Understood.”
It was about three days later that Enoch, through the vassals’ council, finished appropriately adjusting Agatha’s proposal.
That very night he sent a letter to the imperial palace, Agatha Nobilis promptly sent back an invitation.
It was a remarkably swift response.
Agatha spent several days in a whirlwind of activity. In the meantime, the Emperor had nearly finished sorting out the relatives who had taken part in the attack, leaving only final confirmation.
With only a few days left until their execution.
With help from Crown Prince Antoni Roxiva, Agatha obtained the name of the noble the Emperor had in mind and even succeeded in mapping out a sea route to the Eastern Continent.
Fortunately, if one sailed north from the newly established port, there was an island that could serve as a base within Nobilis territory.
The problem was that negotiations with the Empire of Mainucor would be necessary.
That was likely why the Emperor had been considering pairing her with a noble who owned Sichirvil Island, usable if they traveled south.
“What will you do, my lady?”
A vassal who had come to report asked for her intentions.
From separate investigations, the Duke of Sichirvil was, unsurprisingly, not on the list of seventh marriage candidates the vassal had brought.
In fact, his record looked like it belonged on a list of people to avoid.
Currently has one official mistress, but maintains numerous casual relationships / Records of visiting gambling houses more than twice a month.
No matter whom she married, the Duke of Sichirvil was not an option.
Agatha shrugged and set the report down beside the list.
“What choice do I have? We’ll have to concede a bit of profit and focus on improving relations with Mainucor.”
“I wonder how Prince Fernand will react.”
Fernand Mainumconti was the second prince of the Mainucor Empire.
At the unexpected mention of her second ex-husband’s name, Agatha raised one eyebrow.
“Administrator. I’d prefer it if you didn’t even say that man’s name.”
“Ah, my apologies.”
It was a well-known story how devastated Agatha had been back then by her second ex-husband’s womanizing and the sudden appearance of an illegitimate child like a volcanic bomb.
Only now had she learned about the world and stopped associating with that sort altogether.
“Anyway, dredging up old history would put Mainucor at a disadvantage, so they’ll probably agree to negotiate reasonably. His Majesty likely hinted at his intentions to me with that in mind as well.”
A sly old fox.
The Emperor must have known that, either way, Agatha would have to step in, and had therefore retreated willingly.
The island to be used as a base was hers, and she herself would be the envoy whom Mainucor would have to treat gently—so he was essentially telling her to sort it out.
It was good that she could change the marriage candidate to her liking without taking a hard line, but she couldn’t help feeling she’d been outmaneuvered by the Emperor.
“Tell them to discuss the negotiation terms.”
“Yes, my lady.”
Letting out a small sigh of relief, Agatha dismissed the administrator and reached for the lukewarm teacup.
Her gaze fixed on the seventh marriage candidate list that had arrived today.
Marquis Enoch Aratus
“…As expected.”
The name of the man who would soon be visiting was boldly written at the very top.
And there was even a report record that suited her perfectly.
No record of gambling house visits / No close courtesans / No mistress / No involvement in violent incidents.
All that remained was what he thought of her.
“He’s just returned to the capital… would he even be thinking of a political marriage right now…?”
She’d always had more than enough suitors and had chosen among those who met her conditions, so things had never failed to go her way.
Still, there was always the possibility of what if.
As Agatha, uncharacteristically, found herself worrying while thinking of him for the first time—
Knock, knock.
“My lady. Marquis Aratus has arrived.”
“Show him in.”
Agatha rose at once and moved to prepare the tea herself, tossing the rest of the list aside without even checking it.
Just as a fragrant aroma filled the reception room—
Knock.
“My lady. Your guest is here.”
“…Let him in.”
With a neat knock, the door opened.
Behind the maid came into view the smooth tips of polished shoes, long legs, short-cropped blue hair, and a solid upper body, one after another.
The moment their gazes met—those deep ash-gray eyes—
Agatha unconsciously looked away.
Even then, the thought that crossed her mind was how well his perfectly tailored suit suited him today as well.
“Welcome, Marquis. Please, have a seat on the sofa.”
Waving the maid away, Agatha busied herself with a clink, clink.
Bringing boiling water. Scooping tea leaves. Preparing bite-sized sweets.
‘…But why isn’t he saying anything?’
Just as her shoulders stiffened slightly with unbidden tension—
Step.
The slow sound of approaching shoes echoed. As if not to startle her, the man came closer at an unhurried pace, casting a shadow over her back.
“Are you preparing the refreshments yourself?”
His pleasant voice seemed to tickle her ear from so close.
Agatha let out a shallow breath and turned with a practiced social smile.
“I’d just finished dealing with something else, and I felt like moving around a bit. Is rose tea all right?”
“I’m not particular about tea.”
One step.
From that distance, his broad shoulders and rugged neckline were clearly visible.
After lightly taking her hand and brushing a kiss over the back of it, he glanced at the dessert tray she had set aside.
“Shall I place this on the table?”
It was only a greeting.
Yet just from the distance closing a little more, Agatha had to struggle not to show her trembling.
“Please do.”
While Agatha composed herself and prepared the tea,
Enoch, who had moved to the table first, noticed some unexpected documents.
Beside a half-read report lay a list, apparently of noblemen, casually tossed aside.
Normally, judging by her character, she would have neatly organized and set them aside.
Marquis Enoch Aratus
“….”
Seeing his own name on the very first line, Enoch frowned slightly instead of reaching out.
The brief notes beneath it also entered his sight.
“Why? Is something… ah—”
Agatha, who had followed with the tea, hurriedly swept the report and list aside with a flustered look.
Only then did Enoch place the dessert tray on the table. Sitting opposite her with his legs crossed, he pondered for a moment before speaking.
“May I ask… was that just now your list of seventh marriage candidates, my lady?”
