I Had to Hide My Pounding Heart
That is why I had to force myself to hide the pounding of my heart.
Ania Brontë, the only daughter of the Brontë Ducal House.
She was the ideal woman every man in the empire had dreamed of at least once. A beauty that seemed a gift from the gods, a voice like birdsong, the pedigree of a duke’s child, and impeccable poise to match.
Yet Ania had no interest in any of them.
Too ordinary.
He’s ugly.
Looks so fierce he’d tear a turkey apart with his bare hands.
Her standards were as lofty as her looks, and almost no man ever measured up. A woman who knew how to seduce but not how to love. That was why they called her a villainess. That was the kind of woman Ania Brontë was.
Edward Radner had been one of the men who yearned for her love. Eldest son of the Radner Count family, the pride of a house gifted in both magic and swordsmanship, the man who would one day become Count Radner—he had drowned in the swamp of love and offered up his own life.
Even if you kill me, I will love you forever.
I remember his end. Edward Radner cut down the dark forces that threatened Ania’s life with his own hands. No matter what danger came, he protected her without sparing himself. It looked like pure devotion.
Even if you never love me, I will love you for eternity.
That extreme love, the kind that would live on in the songs of bards, ended in tragedy. In the end, the love itself killed him.
Still, I will not love you.
Watching Edward die, his body carved open by countless blades, Ania only cast a cold gaze. Ania Brontë never gave him even a shred of love until the very end. To her, Edward was a toy to play with until the sweetness ran dry and then discard—nothing more than a doll that offered affection.
Of course Edward was no fool who failed to understand her heart; he knew she did not love him. Even knowing that, he loved her so completely that he had no choice but to offer himself. It was a love he wanted even at that price. It was that cruel a story.
“Marry her.”
And one day, three years after I finished reading that novel, I had become Edward Radner, eldest son of the Radner family—the ill-fated man who married Ania Brontë yet never obtained her love.
“Marriage… you say.”
“Yes. The other party is Lady Ania of the Brontë Ducal House. You may not remember from childhood, but the two of you got along well. She’s outstanding in looks and her family is no less, so she should suit your tastes.”
It was about a week after the possession. My father, William Radner, head of the Radner family, came to me and said so. In the novel Edward and Ania had been engaged, so I had vaguely expected it would happen. But it was far too soon.
“But… Father.”
“Does she not please you? As I recall, you rather liked the Brontë lady.”
“It’s not that…”
“It’s already decided, so don’t think of backing out. We’ll visit the Brontë family within the week.”
Damn… of all things, this was the one I had tried to avoid. After realizing I had been possessed, I had shut myself in my room for a while, lost in confusion. Once I decided I had to survive somehow, I threw myself into aristocratic etiquette and swordsmanship that did not fit me at all. That was why I had completely forgotten that the major event called “marriage to Ania Brontë” was waiting for me.
When I hung my head with a dejected expression, William Radner’s brow furrowed slightly.
“Edward… I’ve heard talk that your conduct has been improper lately.”
“I… apologize.”
“I don’t know what wind has gotten into you, but take this opportunity to marry the Brontë lady and live like a proper noble. If you continue to disgrace the family, I will not stand by idly.”
It was inevitable. As an ordinary person who had lived without the slightest connection to noble houses, how could I suddenly possess noble manners? As far as I knew, Edward had been a noble scion as if painted into existence. On weekends he devoutly attended church services, never neglected sword training, observed every courtesy among nobles, and was kind even to his servants. Mastering that perfect etiquette in a single week was nearly impossible.
“Remember this well. You must never go against Lady Brontë’s wishes. I hope you keep in mind that this marriage is the only way to revive the crumbling Radner family.”
William Radner said that and left the room.
“Haa…”
I threw myself onto the bed and tossed the tiresome etiquette aside. Hold your head high, keep your expression free of arrogance, maintain noble courtesy… my ass. If you apply etiquette even to family like this, how is anyone supposed to live with the inconvenience?
More than that… a crumbling family, huh.
Thinking back, that was right. The Radner Count family depicted in the novel was a precarious house walking the path of ruin—an unprecedented crisis in which they might lose the countship itself because of William Radner’s successive business failures.
And the only way to revive it was marriage… right.
I still had no idea how the eldest son of a crumbling count family had managed to secure an engagement with the daughter of the Brontë Ducal House. In other words, he had been sold off as a live-in son-in-law…
I kicked off the bed and stood before the ornate full-length mirror on the wall. Only then did I understand the reason.
“I suppose that makes sense.”
Edward Radner was as outstanding in looks as he was in character. A height that looked about 187 centimeters, broad shoulders, muscles honed by sword training, a sharp nose bridge, and kind-looking eyes.
“With looks like this and still not satisfied—Ania Brontë.”
Edward Radner was a man who lacked nothing. Family, appearance, personality… not a single rough edge. If there was one flaw—
It would be that he loved Ania Brontë.
There were so many women who desired Edward’s love, so why had he chosen Ania? I blamed the utterly foolish judgment of Edward Radner, but it was already too late. The die had been cast. In any case, it was a marriage that could not be called off.
For now, let’s get married.
If the Radner family fell, my future was as clear as day. But I would not love Ania Brontë. Because I knew the ends of the men who had loved her.
Three days passed. Around the time aristocratic etiquette was beginning to settle into my body, the appointed day arrived—the engagement ceremony with Ania Brontë. If you had decided to marry, why not simply hold the wedding at once instead of complicating things with a prior engagement…? They said that, too, was noble etiquette. In any case, thanks to it I was dragged by William Radner’s hand toward the Brontë Ducal House.
“Remember this well. Absolutely, absolutely do not offend Lady Brontë.”
“I will keep it in mind.”
“You must keep it in mind. Our family rests in your hands.”
“You need not worry, Father.”
William Radner repeated the same words ten times inside the carriage. Just when I was about to forget, he would say them again, until my ears were ready to grow calluses. I could understand even this cold-blooded man who normally never changed expression being so nervous. In the past the Brontë Ducal House’s power had not been so great, and the Radner Count family had possessed strength rivaling a ducal house through successive business successes. Now, however, the Radner Count family stood on the brink of ruin, while the Brontë Ducal House had become one of the five greatest families in the empire as the emperor’s closest confidants.
But William Radner had no need to worry so excessively.
I won’t even give Ania Brontë any attention anyway.
In the novel Ania Brontë had seduced countless men. Because she loved them? That was not it. Ania Brontë was a woman who did not know love, and she had repeated engagement after engagement in search of it. Not long after each engagement, however, she would realize—
This man is not my fated one.
She would regret the momentary affection and plot to kill her fiancé. The method was always the same: seduce him until he fell for her, then make demands. At first it might be something as mild as “Please pick the flower on the cliff,” but her requests grew more excessive by the day. “I want a dragon’s scale,” or “Please kill Count So-and-so who insulted me.” In the end the men blinded by love, knowing full well the requests were impossible, burned themselves up like moths flying into a flame.
So I would absolutely not love Ania Brontë. I was different from those foolish men who threw away their lives blinded by love. Absolutely…
“It’s been a long time, Count Radner.”
“It’s been a long time since I last paid my respects, Duke Brontë.”
But that resolve did not last long. Arriving at the Brontë Ducal House, I came face to face with Edward’s fiancée, Ania Brontë.
“It’s been a long time, Edward.”
Golden hair soft and warm as sunlight, lips glossy like ripe fruit, skin transparent as white jade, and a voice that sounded like an angel’s song.
“No—I should call you my husband now.”
Saying that and smiling brightly, Ania Brontë was a beauty beyond anything I had imagined. A woman so beautiful that no sentence could capture her.
“……It’s been a long time.”
That is why I had to force myself to hide the pounding of my heart.