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Chapter 19
“Do not treat me as a spoil of war. I am very much your husband.”
The Grand Duke spoke to me with polite formality.
A memory suddenly crossed my mind.
My maternal grandfather had once described him as “the most beautiful spoil of war.”
Of course, I had no intention of treating my husband that way.
“Indeed, Duke. I have no intention of becoming the wife of a mere spoil either.”
I intended to respect the Grand Duke as the Duchess of Dvorca.
On the condition that he respects me as his partner and fulfills his role properly as the ruler of Dvorca.
I quickly opened the ink bottle and dipped the tip of the quill in and out.
“Duke, how about we start with this for the first clause?”
“Please, go ahead.”
“We will not harm or kill each other.”
The most important thing to secure in this contract was my safety.
By any measure, the Dvorca royal family and my family were practically enemies.
The Lasantium bombs that had devastated the entire Dvorca region had been supplied exclusively by my family.
Rationally and emotionally, it would be hard for him not to harbor ill feelings toward me.
There was a chance that, while I slept, he might impulsively want to slash my throat with a knife.
He, too, had probably lost something in the war.
The Grand Duke listened quietly to my words and shook his head.
“Duchess, that will not happen. If I were to harm you, it could give Levantea a reason to invade Padon Island across the sea.”
“Thank you for confirming. As you know, not harming each other includes both physical violence and verbal abuse. You understand that speaking ill behind each other’s backs can also cause harm, right?”
“…Yes. I understand perfectly.”
The Grand Duke nodded calmly.
Thankfully, he seemed well aware of his own position.
I immediately proposed the next clause.
“Since the first clause secures my safety, the second clause will be that I protect you. While I am here, nothing will happen to you in this palace.”
His own survival—perhaps this was the Grand Duke’s top priority.
Crown Prince Daimon would probably want to manipulate him publicly, to use him as a figurehead to pacify the colony’s subjects.
The Crown Prince had even asked me personally. After the honeymoon ends, he wanted me to travel across Dvorca with the Duke to calm the public.
But if the mission failed, the Duke could be abandoned mercilessly.
Killing him quietly would not be difficult.
It was my duty, as his wife, to prevent that.
“You were brought here as a result of my mistake, so it’s also my responsibility to ensure your safety.”
“…It seems the Duchess holds considerable power,” he said in a dry voice, as though commenting on a foreign duchess.
“At the very least, I can protect your life from the Crown Prince. Since my family is the greatest supporter of the Levantean royal family, people tend to watch my cues carefully.”
“Then may I add one more thing to your promise of protection, besides my life?”
“Please, Duke. What else should I protect for you?”
“Padon Island.”
Ah. This man knows how to negotiate.
He considers Padon Island as valuable as his life. Reasonable, indeed. It was Dvorca’s last territory and the place where his parents and siblings would eventually have a royal residence built.
“Hm. Is simply keeping Padon Island safe enough?”
“What do you mean?”
“I might even hand over governance of the island someday.”
At my words, one of his eyebrows twitched.
A slight ripple appeared on his otherwise motionless face.
I wasn’t sure if it was interest or displeasure.
Of course, I had no intention of doing this without some sort of arrangement.
“…If you cooperate faithfully with me, Duke.”
“Cooperate?”
“I have several projects in mind. I will likely use my funds in your name quite often.”
“You’ll be using my name for your projects funded by your money?”
The Grand Duke sneered and asked me.
“There’s a saying in Dvorca: even money has a face.”
“Do you intend to run shady operations under my name?”
He was asking if I would carry out morally questionable work under his name, like gambling, drug trafficking, or human trade.
If the governor’s office discovered it, he would be responsible, which was probably why he asked.
Of course, I had no intention of such activities.
“Well, if it’s under your name, it will be legitimate business even in areas that were once shadowy.”
My plan was as follows:
Post-war reconstruction and relief work, previously done only in my territory of Blansk, would expand across all of Dvorca under his name.
Regions that had been completely ruined five years ago still had many uninhabitable areas.
I would rebuild villages, schools, and hospitals.
Erect memorials for regions with many civilian casualties.
Build temporary housing for refugees still wandering the lands.
Things ignored by local lords would be done under the Duke’s name.
The goal was to restore the country to its pre-war condition.
…Previously, this work had been done anonymously, but as the scale grew, anonymity became impossible. That’s why I needed a name.
“Will any of these projects harm anyone?”
“Absolutely not. If there’s concern, I’ll seek prior approval for each project. I will never use your name without consent.”
Doing this in my own name would be hypocrisy.
To Dvorcans, Lasantium was a dirty name—a family that led conquest wars.
Giving money to rebuild what they destroyed would be laughable.
But under your name, Davit Mihailo, it becomes good deeds and salvation.
Our marriage was not of my own volition, but since it happened, I intended to make full use of it.
Your status as Dvorca’s ruler, your name, and your stunningly beautiful face.
“…Do as you please. With a large dowry and your ducal title, it’s only right to offer my name to my wife,” he said.
Reluctantly, he accepted.
I then proposed the next clause.
“Our marriage symbolizes the end of conflict between our two nations. Regardless of reality, we will strive to appear as a good relationship publicly.”
“Agreed.”
After all, it was a marriage of appearances; if it looked bad, it would only spark rumors.
“Oh, if you like, I can include a clause that I will not treat you as a spoil of war.”
“No, it should suffice to state that we respect each other’s personal rights,” he said, slightly flushed.
It seemed he felt embarrassed; I had insisted on not treating him as a spoil, even though I had no such intent.
“Personal rights? Be specific. Which rights exactly?”
“For example…”
He stared into space briefly, then lowered his head.
A deep shadow fell across his eyes, as if recalling something unpleasant from memory.
“Not sending me to entertain someone.”
“Well, if guests come here, the host should at least provide minimal hospitality.”
“No, not that kind of hospitality.”
“Oh?”
“Whether at a drinking table or night service, I refuse to entertain anyone for pleasure.”
He gave an example in a calm but suppressed voice.
I was confused.
What wife would send her husband to entertain someone for pleasure? Did Dvorca have such a bizarre custom?
The Grand Duke continued, eyelids lowered.
“…Or handing me over temporarily to another woman for payment.”
“Excuse me, Duke,” I interrupted, waving my hand.
“Yes, Duchess?”
He looked up at me, his face pale.
“Do you really think I would treat you like some unscrupulous criminal? I admit my family in Lasantium was an unscrupulous arms dealer, but do you really think I would subject you to such nonsense?”
“I just wanted to confirm you weren’t that kind of person.”
“Your imagination is too far-fetched. It will never happen, so don’t mention it again.”
It was unpleasant.
Perhaps it felt bad because my expectation of him was so low.
It couldn’t be helped. My family’s actions had created this karma.
“Duke, the next clause will deal with succession.”
“Yes.”
“I will continue living in my own territory after marriage, not here. I will stay in your quarters once a month for three days. We both need heirs, after all.”
Like most nobles, this meant intercourse timed with fertility cycles.
We were not passionate lovers; minimal effort was best.
The Grand Duke’s response was unexpected.
“…If I do not want a child.”
His smooth, bittersweet low voice was calm yet firm.
“What happens then?”
He asked further.
“If you don’t want a child, who inherits your ducal title? Producing an heir is our duty.”
“You know better than anyone that the title is just a formality. I would not want an innocent child held hostage in this palace.”
Ah, I understood his point.
Just a minor correction was needed.
“Duke. If we have a child, they will inherit not only your ducal title but also the Lasantium dukedom. They will receive rightful treatment as heir to both the Dvorca dukedom and the Lasantium family. No one will be held hostage.”
“Producing heirs for the ducal family is…”
“Yes?”
“Isn’t that possible without me?”
What?
Was he suggesting having heirs with another man?
I shook my head violently.
“What kind of notion is that?”
“It would remain unknown.”
“Do you think no one will ever find out? I once considered open marriage, but as the Duchess of a nation, I do not want to betray the ruler. That would be a betrayal of the Dvorcan people, too.”
“What expectation could the people have for a powerless Duke?”
“There is expectation. That’s why so many bled and sacrificed their lives, protesting to return your dynasty.”
“….”
He widened his eyes at what I said, though it shouldn’t have been new to him.
“And demanding respect as a husband while refusing to fulfill that duty is inconsistent.”
“….”
“Let’s discuss succession slowly. I don’t think we’ll reach an agreement today.”
I snapped slightly, speaking sharply.
The Grand Duke said nothing.
He seemed troubled.
I reached a simple conclusion: this man does not want to sleep with me.
It had been a long time since someone refused under such circumstances.
“I’ve been awake since dawn and am tired. We’ll complete the contract later. Let’s go to bed.”
I got up and lay on the soft mattress, covering myself with the blanket.
For several minutes, the Grand Duke remained in the same spot.
“Why aren’t you coming?”
I raised myself and looked at him.
He looked unwell. I went closer. His thin gown trembled, his pale face streaked with cold sweat. His thick chest heaved unevenly.
“Duke, are you feeling unwell?”
“…Let’s just add one more clause, haah.”
He seemed as if he might collapse at any moment, eyes flickering faintly.
“Yes?”
“Please… get me out of here.”
This was the Dvorca royal harem.
His mother had lived here; it was filled with childhood memories.
The Duke seemed unable to endure this space.
Frozen in surprise, I watched as he grabbed my sleeve. Sweat soaked the fabric he clutched like a lifeline.
He stiffly rose from his seat, holding onto my shoulder and panting.
“…Anywhere but here. Haah, please… take me out.”
