The Contract (8)
Naturally, the formal meeting had to be postponed. It was hard to carry on with dinner when Lobelia, the Third Princess of the Empire, had just been ambushed and mauled by the Great Warrior.
Although Lobelia got back to her feet shortly afterward as if it were nothing, we couldn't very well ignore the fact that she was practically dripping blood from head to toe. Still, the ducal House of Aether was unlikely to face any formal reprimand over the incident. Lobelia was almost certain to settle the matter quietly on her own authority.
To an ordinary person, an imperial princess bleeding out in a noble estate would be an earth-shattering scandal. But Lobelia getting injured was practically a Tuesday, and the empire was far too busy to throw a tantrum over an occupational hazard like that. Of course, the final say always rested with Emperor Abraham… but fortunately, Abraham maintained a strict policy of never intervening in the succession struggle, so he didn't use the ambush as an excuse to pressure House Aether.
And so, after a much-needed period of cooling down…
"Good grief. The capital is far too exhausting to live in. The moment this business is settled, we're heading straight back south, so look after yourself, Yohan."
"Honestly, Father, you don't care about your son's well-being in the slightest, do you?"
"Why should I fawn over a little bastard who threw a tantrum and wrecked his own marriage meeting?"
"It's not like anything I said was wrong. Bluntly speaking, do you honestly have the confidence for this? Disasters like the one the other day could blow up every single week. Can you really protect our territory through that?"
"Hmph… Does that kind of nonsense really happen every week?"
"Yes."
At least lately, it had. If I looked at it as paying back the interest on the peaceful first year I had enjoyed at the Cradle, it felt unfair, but not entirely incomprehensible. Still, considering the staggering density of apocalyptic incidents I had survived, it was a little depressing that my personal stats hadn't grown one bit.
Hmm…
When I cast magic to save Ariel that day, it had worked like a charm. Yet whether that had just been a fluke or divine intervention, every attempt I had made to cast High-Tier Magic since then had ended in miserable failure. Impatience was starting to prick at my nerves, but relying on flukes was a fool's errand. Once this marriage disaster was sorted out, I would have to ask Ariel for proper magic tutoring. She might be terrible at explaining things, but having a prodigy's awkward instruction was still vastly better than stumbling around in the dark.
"Yohan, looks like we've arrived."
"Finally… time to put an end to this wretched marriage talk once and for all."
I stretched, working the stiffness out of my back.
Today was the day to settle the unresolved mess from our previous encounter. We had traveled in complete secrecy, and more importantly, the venue was the main estate of House Aether itself. There was no chance of another ambush erupting here. Even so, the sheer pressure of stepping into a ducal manor had spooked my mother, so she and Chris had stayed behind. Or more accurately, Mother was intimidated, and Chris had chosen to stay by her side to keep her company. My little brother was already growing into a dependable man.
…In fact, he was grown in every sense of the word. He was already taller than me.
"Welcome. We have been expecting you, Count Damus."
"Ahem! Thank you for the hospitality."
This time, the head butler himself came out to greet us at the carriage step. Unlike our previous, chaotic gathering, the atmosphere carried a solemn, aristocratic weight.
"This way, please."
We followed the butler and the line of attending servants deeper into the manor.
"The sheer presence of this place is suffocating," Father muttered under his breath. "Is this truly the grandeur of a ducal estate…?"
"Indeed. But I can't help feeling they've laid it on a bit thick… Keep your guard up, Father."
"Sigh…"
They claimed they respected our position, but since we were the ones breaking off the proposed match for our own reasons, they might demand exorbitant compensation. Father would have to negotiate carefully.
Guided by the servants, we eventually arrived at Tronios Aether's personal office. The Duke of Aether sat behind an immense desk, combing through stacks of paperwork that rose like small mountains. Ariel stood quietly beside him, offering me a shy, bright smile the instant our eyes met.
"I must apologize for receiving you in the middle of official duties, but pressing matters demanded my attention. It is good to meet you, Count Damus."
"The entire empire knows how tirelessly the Duke of Aether labors day and night for our realm. Please, pay it no mind."
"I appreciate your understanding."
A man whose face was carved from emotionless granite, and my father, whose voice was stiff as a board from sheer nerves. The air in the room was thick enough to choke on.
"Greetings, Count Damus. Lord Yohan, welcome. Did you experience any trouble on your way here?"
"Thank you for your warm welcome, Lady Ariel. The journey was entirely uneventful."
"I'm glad to hear that."
Ariel's soft, beaming smile instantly melted the stifling tension in the room. Having delivered her polite greetings, she stepped demurely behind her father's chair, and Tronios spoke again.
"Yohan Damus."
"Yes, Duke Aether."
"I understand what you said during our previous gathering. Rascal's overeagerness in sending lavish engagement gifts likely felt like unspoken intimidation to your household. For that, I offer my apologies."
"…It is quite alright, Your Grace."
"And to you, Count Damus. I apologize for burdening a lord who should be attending to his own lands, forcing you to travel all the way to the capital because of our family's clumsy handling."
"Haha, nonsense! It has been quite some time since I last saw the capital, so the trip was rather pleasant. Think nothing of it, Duke Aether."
"Your generosity honors me."
To my relief, it seemed this would wrap up without unnecessary drama. Tronios Aether looked far too buried in paperwork to squander his precious time on a rural count's family. If we could just declare the whole thing null and void, exchange polite nods, and leave, it would be perfection.
"Yohan Damus."
"Yes, Your Grace?"
Unfortunately, the Duke was not finished with me.
"I am well aware that you saved Ariel's life. Not merely during the recent incident, but throughout your days at the Cradle."
"Well… that is…"
Wait, what?
I had nodded almost on reflex, but I wasn't the only one caught off guard. Behind Tronios, Ariel was staring at her father wide-eyed, as if looking at an alien species. It offered a stark, tragic glimpse into just how rarely the Duke ever held a warm conversation in this household.
"I was entirely unaware that my own daughter suffered from Transcendence Sickness. Yet not only did you identify her affliction, you dedicated the vast majority of your time at the academy toward synthesizing a cure, did you not?"
Father shot me a sharp, questioning glance that practically screamed, You did what? But there hadn't been any reason to brag about it back home. Besides, I had never expected Tronios to interpret my desperate scramble for survival as some grand, romantic sacrifice.
"Therefore, I understand your feelings toward Ariel with absolute clarity."
Wait, what the hell?!
"To taint such pure devotion with political maneuvering and raw power would be unworthy of an elder."
"Father?" Ariel gasped, her voice trembling in stunned disbelief. But as shocked as she was, my own terror was on another plane entirely.
Something… something catastrophic was brewing!
"Excuse me, Duke Aether, wait just a—"
"Thus, you shall become engaged to Ariel. However, this engagement will remain strictly confidential, unannounced to the public until graduation and for several years thereafter."
"…Excuse me?" I choked out.
No answer came.
"Furthermore, House Aether will spare no expense in providing comprehensive aid to Damus County. Our ducal house has reached its political ceiling and can expand no further; under such circumstances, cultivating a steadfast ally on the frontier is by far the superior strategy."
"…Excuse me?" Father repeated in equal bewilderment.
Again, no answer came.
As if this entire matter had been etched in stone before we even stepped through the doors, Tronios slid a single parchment across the polished mahogany desk toward me. It was equal parts formal contract and official marriage registration.
"I believe this conclusion should satisfy all parties involved. Do you not agree?"
"Well, um… Your Grace, the thing is…"
"Speak. Is there an issue? If there is a blind spot I have failed to anticipate, I shall take it into consideration."
"No, sir…"
"Neither do I, Father!"
I choked out my reluctant surrender while Ariel chimed in, practically glowing with triumphant pride. Only then did the horrifying architecture of Tronios Aether's logic click in my brain.
He was completely, unshakeably convinced that Ariel and I were deeply in love with each other. And with Ariel standing right behind him, radiating pure affirmation, there was zero room for doubt in his pragmatic mind. Father and daughter were an unstoppable tag-team of mutual delusion.
To make matters worse, I had dodged the question during our last encounter by giving a vague, non-committal answer that I didn't dislike her. Who could have known that cowardly hedge would bounce back as a lethal boomerang?
"Naturally, the success of this endeavor rests heavily upon Count Damus's shoulders," Tronios said, turning his piercing gaze toward my father. "What say you, Count Damus? Can you carry out this task?"
I looked at Father and gave a tiny, desperate shake of my head.
This was a poisoned chalice. It wasn't just that I wanted to avoid marriage; accepting this meant taking on an astronomical gamble. Just because Damus County received backing from a ducal house didn't guarantee our family would magically reclaim its ancient glory. The outcome entirely depended on how we handled the political fallout. Calling it 'aid' was a polite euphemism; in truth, it was a high-stakes contract sealed with a marital pledge.
If Father was the timid, self-preserving rural noble I knew him to be, he would flatly refuse…
"It is not a matter of whether I can, Duke Aether," Father replied solemnly. "It is a matter of what I must do."
"…Father?!"
Well. Nothing in this wretched world ever went the way I wanted anyway.
I had a terrible feeling this would happen.
We had evaded immediate marriage.
Yet we had walked straight into an engagement.
In practice, it was merely a temporary stay of execution. Even so, the situation was infinitely better than being dragged straight to the altar.
"Lord Yohan."
"Yes?"
When we stepped out of the Aether estate, Ariel personally walked us to the carriage. Tronios was apparently swamped with pressing duties, so she had taken up the role of seeing off her family's guests. There was nothing unusual about the gesture, but…
"L-Lord Yohan!"
"Uh… yes?"
Watching her fidget and stammer made an icy dread creep down my spine.
"W-Would you… prefer I call you darling? Or husband? Wh-Which one do you like better?"
"Please just call me Lord Yohan, exactly as you always have."
"Eh…?"
Why was she looking at me like I had crushed her fondest dreams? Was that what she had been rehearsing in her head this whole time?
"We agreed to keep the engagement secret, didn't we? So we should act as we always do in public."
"I suppose you're right… But what about when it's just the two of us…?"
"If you get used to doing that, you'll slip up in front of others and cause a disaster. Let's keep things normal."
"Okaaay…"
Seeing her rabbit-like ears droop in utter dejection gave me a sudden, uncomfortable pang of guilt. Still, there was no reason to put up rigid emotional walls like I used to. The engagement was already a done deal anyway.
"I'll see you at the Cradle, Ariel."
"…Yes! See you tomorrow, Yohan!"
Dropping the formal titles between close classmates shouldn't raise too many eyebrows. Trying to ignore the strange, tickling warmth blooming in my chest from an intimacy I rarely allowed myself, I climbed into the carriage.
Why was I feeling like this?
"I'm exhausted…"
The sheer mental fatigue was threatening to cave my skull in.
The carriage rattled along the paved thoroughfare, entering the bustling heart of the capital.
"Father."
"What?"
I broke the silence, addressing my father as he stared blankly out the carriage window.
"Why did you accept the Duke's terms? The pressure on our county will be immense. It's not as if you ever harbored burning ambitions to restore our house's ancient glory, nor are you the type to lust after imperial power."
"What makes you think I don't?"
"Because you're not that kind of man."
"Hmph. Fair enough." Father snorted softly.
Just as I had suspected, his decision had been made entirely for my sake. Whether it was truly the right choice for me, however, remained an open question. Right now, all I felt was an unbearable weight pressing down on my shoulders.
"Son."
"Yes, Father?"
"I may not be the world's most brilliant man, but I am still your father. Did you honestly believe I wouldn't notice that you still haven't moved on from that girl?"
"…Did you just remember that because the Duke brought up the cure for Transcendence Sickness?"
"…Well, that was part of it. But living your entire life trapped in the past will bring you nothing but misery. Don't you know that?"
"And you're claiming this forced engagement is your idea of shock therapy?"
"I know better than anyone that you're far too stubborn to listen to preachings like that. I simply thought… if this could serve as a turning point, it would be for the best. And from what I saw, Lady Ariel seems like a truly good person."
"You threw away your peaceful retirement… for just that?"
"Yes. For just that."
"……"
To give his broken son a chance to move forward, my father had willingly surrendered the quiet, lazy future he had dreamed of. Faced with that stark truth, my cynical retorts dissolved on my tongue.
"So you'd better treat your parents well, you ungrateful punk."
"Ha… seriously."
I hung my head. I had lost this round completely. They said no parent could ever truly beat their child, but whoever coined that phrase had clearly never met Count Damus.
After the Damus family departed the estate, Tronios Aether sat in his office, sharing a quiet moment with his younger brother, Rascal.
"Is this for real, brother?"
"Read it as it is written."
"You're genuinely providing them with this much support?"
"I am."
"Good grief…"
Rascal clicked his tongue in disbelief as he scanned the comprehensive aid package Tronios had drafted for Damus County. He had no objection to propping up the rural house, but the sheer scale of the investment Tronios had authorized was staggering.
"Man, looking at this, the bridal gifts I sent over look like cheap toys."
"It is necessary work."
"Well, sure… If we want them to carry the prestige expected of a proper count's household, this level of backing is required. Especially for a family guarding the distant frontier." Rascal shrugged, conceding the point. While Tronios had been surprisingly generous, the strategic logic behind the numbers was immaculate. "Even so, I can hardly believe you made this call yourself. Anyone looking at this document would think you were an affectionate father who dotes on his daughter."
"Does it appear so?"
"No. And that's precisely why it's so shocking."
Rascal had witnessed his older brother's transformation from the front row. In their youth, Tronios had been a passionate, righteous man who wore his heart on his sleeve. But the man who returned from the blood-soaked front lines was completely worn down, hollowed out by carnage.
"I have seen far too much to waste time on love or hatred," Tronios murmured quietly.
War changed men. And for Tronios, who had spent decades under the Emperor's command fighting in the most horrific, apocalyptic battlegrounds the empire had ever known, the toll had been absolute.
"Wherever I turned, my eyes met corpses. Screams echoed incessantly in my ears."
"……"
"The stench of burning flesh choked my throat, and the blood and viscera clinging to my bare skin were sickeningly hot."
Every sense he possessed had been drowned in death. A hell wrought by his own magic.
"I saw men forgive those they once despised, and I saw people murder the ones they claimed to love."
He had witnessed too much. Far too much for a human soul to endure without breaking.
"I no longer understand what emotions are supposed to feel like. Or perhaps… terrified of what I might feel, I simply gave up on understanding them."
"Brother…"
"Yet, Rascal." Tronios turned his dry, sunken eyes toward his brother, the corners of his lips curling into a faint, practiced smile. It was an expression etched by muscle memory rather than genuine joy. Though it might have looked grotesque to a stranger, Rascal felt only a profound, aching sorrow. "I still remember that I was once a man capable of love. The emotions may have worn away, but the memories have not faded."
Finally, Rascal understood.
He understood what force still propelled Tronios Aether forward. What kept a hollow machine of a man breathing day after day.
"Therefore, I intend to take responsibility for the things I once held dear. That is the solemn vow I made to the man I used to be."
Responsibility.
That cold, unyielding duty was the sole engine that kept Tronios moving.
For his house. For his blood.
Because in an existence where all color had long since bleached away, duty was the only thing he had left.