Running Away Would Make Me Trash (Revised)
If you play with your dick like a dick, you'll get fucked. I don't remember where I read it, but that line suddenly came to mind. As expected, books really are humanity's guiding light. If only I'd followed that light from the start... Instead I listened to my damn lower half and ruined everything. I should have held back a little. I should have pushed her away right there. Or at least I shouldn't have gone all the way. What was the point of regretting it now?
I tried blaming my lower body—no, the demon of lust that had seduced me—but in the end I was the one who screwed up. I'd slept with a woman of my own free will. There was no backing out anymore. Ah, fuck. I really did fuck her. The sensation of holding a woman really was pleasant. I could almost understand why so many kings had gotten addicted to it and met their ends. Better to passionately tangle bodies with a concubine than rot my brain talking politics with stinky old men. Of course, that kind of thing usually ended with the country collapsing or your head getting chopped off.
"My husband, is there somewhere uncomfortable?"
"We... haven't even had the engagement ceremony, let alone gotten married... Could you please refrain from using that title in front of other people?"
"Is there any point that's uncomfortable for you?"
I wondered if she was seriously asking. Glacia was incredibly smart, but that one loose screw was her fatal flaw.
"It's just that other people might think it's strange."
"Hmm... I suppose that's possible. But I can't exactly call you my wife, can I? From a distance, Werner, your features are so delicate and beautiful that people might mistake you for a woman."
Fuck, that's not what I meant. She just casually stepped on my complex without a second thought. If the original Werner had heard that, he would've flipped the engagement and everything else. But I was a British gentleman with the magnanimity of the vast sea. I was willing to laugh off rudeness of this level.
At that moment, my reason protested that if I was such a British gentleman, why had I gone to break up with a woman and then slept with her instead? But hadn't I said it? A British gentleman. I had simply inherited the conscience of a nation that sold opium and started wars. That was what "British" behavior looked like.
But Glacia seemed to be quite "British" herself. She placed her hand on my lips and said,
"You don't need to concern yourself with what other people think."
What was this nonsense? Whether it was Confucianism, the teachings of Jesus, or the teachings of Buddha, they all emphasized living together with others. Yet here she was telling me not to care about other people. What kind of heretical statement went against the teachings of all three sages?
If it had been a man, I would've immediately hit him with the Confucian Punch, Buddhist Palm, and New Testament Kick combo. I only held back because hitting a woman went against chivalry. Yet Glacia, despite having uttered words that contradicted the three great sages, was looking at me with extremely serious eyes. Her crimson pupils drew closer.
"I am now a Grand Duke. In exchange for bearing many responsibilities, I have been granted many rights."
Ah, that was true. Hadn't Uncle Ben said it? With great power comes great responsibility. In other words, it meant something like if you have great responsibility, you're allowed to cut the heads off people who piss you off.
"So who would dare give strange looks to me, who bears such great responsibility, and to you, my husband?"
"But even if you don't say it, people still have their own thoughts."
"Then I'll change them."
Changing other people's minds? That was exactly the kind of thing that pig bastard from the North would say. Maybe the Winterhart family really was that sort of family. Fuck. So that was why Glacia's father, Melchior, liked shark-fin soup. Just as I was wondering whether I should change my name to Seol-ju and move north, Glacia spoke in a serious voice.
"Any action, word, or thought that disrespects you—I will erase them all. I will make sure no one can even dare show such things out of fear, that they cannot even harbor them in their hearts."
"Haa... Lady Glacia, even a god cannot change people's thoughts."
"If I become a devil instead of a god, it can be resolved. Anyone who directs disrespectful actions, words, or thoughts toward you—I will kill them all."
"Why do you need to go that far? Not everyone can like me. I was once a quite promising mage, but... as you know, not everyone liked me."
Many people had praised and liked Werner. But quite a few had tried to look good in front of him while spitting out words behind his back that would wound him. Werner, who had unusually good hearing, had caught every single one of those words. At first he tried not to care... but after the incident that left him unable to use grand magic, while still bearing many scars, hearing those insults had turned him into a properly twisted youth.
"If you become my husband, no one will be able to treat you rudely. Because I will be by your side."
"Originally I was the youngest of the heroes and a great mage. Everyone trembled before those titles."
Werner had already held a high position. There was no need to go as far as marriage. He could change the attitudes of people standing before him, but he couldn't change the attitudes and thoughts of those who turned their backs. And it didn't seem like getting married would change that.
"I remember what you said when we first met. That people only see your magical talent, and without it, you are nothing."
"...You remembered all of that?"
To be honest, I had come here before the short story about their first meeting was released, so I was the one who didn't know. If she said so, then it was so. There was nothing else I could do.
"You no longer need to be the youngest of the heroes. You no longer need to be a mage."
"What do you mean..."
"Even if you are no longer their youngest, even if you lose your magic... it means you will forever be my husband."
Glacia lightly kissed my forehead. Then from those lips came a voice more solemn than ever before.
"Because I chose the person named Werner Alton—who is neither the youngest of the heroes nor a grand mage—as my husband."
It seemed Glacia wasn't the communist tyrant of the North that I had imagined. Her love was simply a little heavy. Though for a moment I wondered if she had just declared, 'He is neither a hero nor a grand mage, but merely a worker comrade named Werner Alton.'
The inside of the ceremonial hall was surprisingly modest. They had renovated an old cathedral, and I heard this was according to Melissa's taste. The moment I heard the location yesterday, I joked that as expected of old people, they liked old buildings too—only to nearly get killed by blood magic. Of course, after that Glacia had drawn her demonic sword and crossed blades with her mother. And watching that, Melchior had laughed heartily, saying what a harmonious family scene this was after so long... Yeah, this family was definitely fucking crazy.
I really wanted to see Heavenly Demon Young-gang. He was a bit eccentric, but if that old man were here, he wouldn't have allowed such a sight. Unfortunately, aside from Camellia, Melchior, and Melissa, my colleagues were moving together with Zeek. Melchior and Melissa also planned to return as soon as the engagement ceremony ended.
I received simple makeup in the waiting room behind the ceremonial hall. Whether it was my first time learning this or a rule of this world, it seemed men also received light makeup for occasions like this. They even neatly arranged my hair, which I had left casually loose. On top of that, they dressed me in proper formal attire and even pinned an expensive-looking brooch to my clothes. If you added up the cost of the makeup, clothes, and brooch, wouldn't it equal about two years' earnings for an average adventurer? Just how severe was this bourgeois oppression?
If I hadn't been Glacia's fiancé, I would have rushed out right then and started a proletarian revolution. I was quietly muttering the phrase 'Adventurers of the nation, unite!' when the door suddenly opened. The ones who entered were Melchior and Melissa.
Perhaps because of the occasion, both were dressed more neatly and majestically than usual. Instead of her gothic lolita style, Melissa wore a modest wine-colored dress, and Melchior was in a neat black suit.
"Wow, it really doesn't suit you."
"Our youngest has been living apart from his big sister and has grown quite bold."
"Still, gothic lolita at your age, sister, is pretty shameless..."
At that moment, a spear made of blood grazed my cheek.
"It's only because I don't want to kill anyone on my daughter's engagement day, youngest."
Melchior silently patted my shoulder and left the room. As expected of Brother Melchior. Remember this well: tanks are light, and dealers are peasants.
But as soon as Melchior left, Melissa gave a sly smile and said,
"You slept with my daughter, didn't you?"
Fuck, she noticed?
"Well~ we're both adults. It can happen. It's not like I forced her or anything."
And then Melissa left these words in my ear before departing.
"So, youngest... if you make my daughter cry, I'll kill you."