A Dog's Pride

"Asil. The Lady of Decartes wishes to marry you."

Thump. At the mention of the Lady of Decartes, Asil's heart instantly plummeted.

"...To me, so suddenly? We have never even crossed paths."

"Indeed. Since the Young Duke of Decartes sent it directly, it will be difficult to refuse."

Asil silently stared down at the letter Marquis Freiden handed him. The contents were as follows:

Most of the conditions were overwhelmingly in favor of the Freiden Marquisate. To refuse would be sheer foolishness. For Asil, who would do absolutely anything for the benefit of his family, there was no reason to reject such an offer.

"I will accept."

"Are you sure you are alright with this?"

"There is no problem."

The reason his father, Marquis Freiden, asked was undoubtedly due to the Lady of Decartes' notorious reputation. Asil generally didn't pay much mind to high society gossip. He had dismissed the rumors about the Young Duke of Persia being homosexual as mere hearsay. However, the Lady of Decartes was a different story. Having observed her himself, he believed most of the rumors were true. From what Asil knew, she was like a rabid dog. Wherever a party was held, she was sure to attend, and a fight was sure to break out. Any noble with even a passing interest in social circles would find it impossible not to know her.

'But...'

If it brought immense benefit to his family, he could endure this much. Asil calculated that the gains far outweighed any potential loss.

"Then I shall send a reply immediately and arrange the marriage talks."

"Yes. Please do so."

"Very well. You may leave."

Asil let out a smirk as he stepped out of Marquis Freiden's office.

'Let's see just how mad this Lady of Decartes really is.'

No matter how crazy, unhinged, or ill-tempered she was, once the marriage was finalized, she wouldn't be able to do a thing. Once they were husband and wife, she would have no choice but to become submissive.

'Taming a proud, crazy bitch to suit my own tastes... that actually sounds rather entertaining. The sense of conquest will be exquisite.'

A sinister smile spread across Asil's face at the thought of bringing Franche Decartes to her knees.

Time passed, and Asil boarded a carriage bound for the Decartes Ducal Residence. Normally, the lady's side should have made the journey, but since it was the prestigious House of Decartes, he could understand why he had to go himself.

After the carriage wheels had spun for what felt like an eternity, Asil finally entered the Decartes Duchy. Looking out the window, he realized it wasn't called a ducal territory for nothing. There was no trace of worry or anxiety on the faces of the people, and the streets were pristine. Most of the buildings were newly constructed and meticulously maintained.

'I heard Duke Decartes was a workaholic, but...'

He hadn't expected it to be to this extent. Asil had always believed that the Freiden Marquisate where he lived was among the top three territories in the Empire, but looking at the Decartes Duchy, he couldn't help but chuckle dryly.

'This place is on a completely different level.'

The coachman of the Freiden Marquisate spoke up.

"We have arrived, young master."

"Good work."

Asil stepped down from the carriage with a light stride. He narrowed his eyes slightly as he gazed at the ducal mansion. It was a massive, magnificent estate. As he approached, the knights of the Decartes family stopped him.

"State your name, please."

"I am Asil, from the Freiden Marquisate. Here is my token."

"Confirmed. Open the gates."

Clang. Screeech. The massive arched iron gates swung open, and Asil walked toward the mansion. An elderly man, who appeared to be the Head Butler, was waiting at the entrance.

"I shall escort you with the utmost care."

"Thank you."

The Head Butler bowed deeply and guided him to where the Lady of Decartes was waiting. The place they arrived at was the mansion's garden.

"Thank you for your trouble."

"It is my duty. I wish you a pleasant time."

Asil looked around. The garden was adorned with all kinds of vibrant flowers. In the center stood a table shaded by a large parasol, and sitting there was the notorious Lady of Decartes.

'So that's her.'

Long, flowing red hair. Emerald eyes that shone like lush greenery. Exquisite features that formed a strikingly beautiful face. This was the first time Asil had seen the Lady of Decartes up close. He had caught glimpses of her at banquets, but only from a distance. Perhaps it was because she was far more beautiful than he had anticipated, but looking at her from this proximity made his heart flutter.

"..."

Taking a deep breath, Asil calmed his racing heart and took a step forward.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Lady Decartes. I am Asil Freiden."

"I am Franche Decartes."

She raised her head, her emerald eyes shimmering as they locked onto him. Asil's heart began to race once more. As a man, he found himself utterly captivated by her.

'...I didn't realize I cared so much about looks.'

Well, appearance was the very first thing one noticed when meeting someone. Rationalizing it to himself, Asil shrugged off his reaction.

"Please, have a seat."

"Thank you."

Asil sat down. Now that he was closer, he noticed a knight standing guard behind her.

'Her guard, I suppose.'

But was it really appropriate for a knight ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to linger when a man and a woman were meeting to discuss marriage?

"I see you have your guard with you."

It was a subtle hint that it was bad manners and she should dismiss him. Whether the infamous Lady of Decartes would take the hint, however, was another matter.

"My apologies, but this knight is under my direct command."

She understood, yet chose to ignore it. Since it wasn't a major issue, Asil decided to let it slide. There was no point in starting an argument over something so trivial.

"Well, I suppose it is fine. He is your guard, after all."

"Indeed. There will be no issues."

An awkward silence settled over them. Franche Decartes, seemingly displeased with the heavy atmosphere, was the first to break it.

"What are your hobbies, Lord Freiden?"

Starting with hobbies, was she? Asil didn't really have any. His life had been nothing but work, work, and more work. If he had to name something, it would be studying and reading.

"Reading and studying. I must prepare myself to manage the affairs of our territory."

"The affairs of the territory...?"

"Yes."

"Are you not the third son, Lord Freiden?"

"That is correct."

Franche Decartes tilted her head.

"Hmm. A third son managing territorial affairs... Is the House of Freiden not a prestigious family of knights?"

At the mention of a "family of knights," Asil's brow twitched.

"We are, indeed."

"Reading and studying... how unexpected. I assumed you would be entirely focused on swordsmanship."

"..."

Does this woman know nothing about me? To think she wouldn't even investigate her potential future husband. However, since it wasn't widely known information, Asil decided to be generous and let it go. It was possible she simply didn't know.

"Haha, I happen to have a keen interest in territorial administration, and it is what I excel at most."

Yet, her response was lukewarm at best.

"What a pity. I had high hopes since you are from a family of knights. My preference leans toward men who are skilled with a blade."

At her words, Asil's brow twitched for a second time. Swordsmanship was the one topic he detested above all else.

"...I see. And what might your hobbies be, Lady Decartes?"

"Hmm. For me, it is studying and watching swordsmanship."

Swordsmanship again. It was becoming increasingly difficult for Asil to maintain his composure. Franche Decartes smiled brightly and continued.

"I plan to start a business, so I am quite interested in economics and management. Oh! And as I mentioned, I prefer strong men. I often watch the knights of our duchy during their training sessions."

Just when he thought the topic was finally changing, she dragged it right back to swordsmanship. Asil gritted his teeth ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and endured it. Ruining the mood here would do him no favors. He had to steer the conversation elsewhere.

"You plan to start a business?"

"Yes."

"Hmm. Running a business can be quite challenging."

"I have heard that quite often."

Franche Decartes lifted her teacup.

"But things have been going incredibly well lately. I cannot share the details just yet, but I expect excellent results."

Oh? If that was true, it would be of immense help to the Freiden Marquisate. No matter how terrible her reputation or how mad she was rumored to be, she was still a Lady of Decartes; her chances of success were bound to be high.

'I must make sure this marriage happens, no matter what.'

Asil spoke up.

"I am glad to hear that. By any chance, are you familiar with the Freiden Marquisate? If not, I would be delighted to introduce it to you myself."

Clack. Franche Decartes set her teacup down and offered a pleasant, amiable smile. Asil began to wonder if the rumors had been exaggerated. She might be slightly ignorant about him, but she was maintaining basic etiquette in their conversation. Seeing her in person, he didn't think she was such a bad person after all.

Franche Decartes spoke.

"Of course I know of it. It is a fine land ruled by a distinguished family of knights. Ah, now that I think about it, I heard your family stood at the vanguard during the war with Barenberg. Did you also fight at the front lines when the war broke out, Lord Freiden?"

Asil cursed inwardly. He had tried so hard to steer the conversation away, only for it to loop right back. He wanted to avoid any talk of knights or swords if at all possible.

"I was occupied with other matters at the time and could not participate. I had to oversee the affairs of the marquisate."

Asil gave an awkward smile. Though she would find out eventually, he wanted to hide the fact that he was incompetent with a sword for as long as possible. While the House of Freiden didn't openly shame him for it, it was not a pleasant memory for him.

"What a shame. I was hoping to hear of your exploits. Perhaps you could cross blades with my guard and show me your swordsmanship? I would love to see the martial prowess of my future husband."

Asil's brow twitched for a third time. It was now nearly impossible to keep his face neutral. This lady was digging so relentlessly into his swordsmanship that he began to wonder if she already knew the truth. Had she invited him here just to humiliate him? That seemed unlikely. After all, why would she go through the trouble of proposing an alliance only to insult him?

'Is she just genuinely obsessed with swords?'

Deciding to think of it that way, Asil tried to smooth things over.

"I am afraid I did not bring a sword with me."

"Ah, if it is a sword you need, we can easily lend you one from our armory."

This woman...

"To be honest, I am not feeling particularly well today... Perhaps I can show you another time when the opportunity arises."

Franche Decartes tilted her head, her brow furrowing slightly.

"Are you perhaps lacking confidence in your swordsmanship, Lord Freiden?"

"...Pardon?"

"You have been avoiding the topic of swords since the moment you arrived."

...She didn't dominate high society for nothing. To think she could read his thoughts from such a brief exchange. Asil found himself slightly impressed by her social acumen.

"Not at all. That was not my intention."

At his response, the guard standing behind her let out a quiet snicker. Seeing this, Asil's face began to contort with rage.

"What are you laughing at? Are you mocking me?"

"No, my lord."

Franche Decartes intervened.

"Please, do not ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠take your anger out on my guard."

"...I am not taking my anger out on anyone."

"Having spoken with you, I think I understand now."

"Understand what?"

Franche Decartes looked at Asil with a gaze full of pity. She shook her head and murmured softly.

"How pitiful."

"...What is pitiful?"

Asil was growing increasingly offended. It felt as though her sole purpose from the very beginning had been to provoke him.

"Actually, I had a suspicion. You ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠cannot wield a sword, can you? Every member of the House of Freiden is renowned for their swordsmanship... It is truly tragic that you are the sole exception."

Asil's eyes widened. His face flushed crimson, and the veins in his neck bulged. Pity was the one thing Asil despised more than anything else in the world.

"Are you pitying me right now?"

"Pardon? No, that was not my intention..."

"You said you suspected it from the start, didn't you? Did you deliberately steer the conversation this way just to mock me?"

Franche Decartes let out a soft chuckle.

"So you really can't use a sword. I only threw it out as a guess, but it seems I hit the mark."

Inside Asil's mind, something snapped. The anger he had been desperately holding back finally erupted.