Tell Me I'm Beautiful. More Beautiful Than Anyone in the World
There are times when, rather than grit your teeth and deny something, simply admitting it is what finally brings peace of mind.
Regret over what you can never have. A crushing inferiority complex. An unbridgeable gap in skill…
Once you acknowledge those things and cast off the lingering attachment, you come to understand just how powerless a human being truly is before the irresistible force of fate.
And so I had no choice but to admit it.
It's true that I'm drawn to Ania's beauty.
Being captivated by something beautiful is only natural—the same way one's eyes are drawn to the masterpieces of great artists: the Mona Lisa, The Starry Night, The Last Supper…
My attraction to Ania's beauty was simply a natural phenomenon.
"Hoo…"
I brought my sword down in a diagonal slash. The hundredth straw dummy split cleanly, its upper half thudding to the floor.
Sweating through the training left my mind feeling clear.
I smiled in satisfaction, then wiped the sweat away with the soft towel a servant handed me.
"That's enough. Let's head back."
"Yes, Young Master."
After leaving the training grounds and showering, it was already lunchtime. Following the servant's lead, I went straight to the dining hall.
"Husband."
And there, waiting in the dining hall, was Ania.
I clearly remembered her leaving a few days earlier with Rictman for the southern silk business. She hadn't been at the mansion that morning, so she must have returned while I was training.
I sat down with a carefully composed expression.
"You've returned, my lady? I was training and didn't notice."
"I wish you would notice a little."
Ania put on a deliberately sulky face, then smiled brightly again and lightly tapped the back of her own hand.
I deliberately pretended not to see that elegant gesture, closed my eyes, and clasped my hands together.
"Let us pray."
"Husband. You've forgotten something before that."
"……"
Watching her tap the back of her hand once more, I cleared my throat.
"Everyone, leave us."
"Yes, Young Master."
I dismissed every servant and slowly rose from my chair. Then I walked toward Ania at a measured pace.
"Hurry."
Ania whispered with flushed cheeks, and at the sound of her voice the events of a few days prior suddenly rose in my mind.
The day we returned to the mansion after the firearm demonstration, the conversations we had shared over dinner.
Of course, after days of awkward distance not much of substance had been said, but we had made certain promises for the sake of our married life going forward.
— From now on, I promise I will never avoid my wife. No matter what happens.
— I… won't get sulky over trivial things either.
Eldrigon's words about how a married couple needs conversation had been excellent advice, matching his keen insight.
Ania had said that because I avoided her, she thought I had come to hate her.
The ambush on the way to the ball, the way I had snapped at her in the ballroom—she thought those things had made me despise her…
I was surprised to hear that.
I never dreamed that Ania Brontë of all people would be fretting over whether I hated her.
In the novel, Ania Brontë had shown little interest in Edward Radner.
Little interest… or rather, one might wonder if she had ever loved him at all.
Perhaps some series of events had altered the flow of the story once again…
So… was this also because the story's course had changed?
— Then, promise me just one thing.
That day Ania had pleaded with an earnest expression.
— Once a day—no… since we might both be busy, at least once before we share a meal, kiss the back of my hand.
Why?
Why would she so earnestly beg Edward, whom she didn't even love?
— And tell me I'm beautiful. More beautiful than anyone else in the world.
But it wasn't such a difficult request.
A light kiss on the back of the hand was a common greeting among nobles, especially toward ladies, and saying she was beautiful was something I had already admitted to myself.
— Very well.
I had accepted it thinking it wouldn't be so hard… yet…
"Come on. Don't keep me waiting."
Looking at Ania's soft hand, I found myself blaming my own carelessness.
I took a small breath and lightly pressed my lips to the back of her hand.
To forget the sensation, I forced myself to think of something else—the men who had fallen for Ania's wiles and died. Their ends.
After holding the kiss a moment and pulling away, Ania's cheeks were flushed.
I slowly opened my mouth.
"You are beautiful today as well."
"Is that all?"
"More beautiful than anyone else in the world."
"Hehe…"
Ania smiled in satisfaction.
After that we prayed and began the meal, but I couldn't tell whether the food was going into my mouth or my nose.
"Young Master."
A few days later, as I was reading a magic tome in my room, Lorelnd suddenly knocked on the door.
"What is it?"
"A letter has arrived. I wished to deliver it to you."
"Come in."
Lorelnd quietly opened the door and handed me a single letter.
It was an ordinary white letter sealed with red sealing wax, with nothing particularly written on the outside. Only the words "To Edward Radner" were inscribed.
"Do you know who sent it?"
"No, I do not."
"Understood. You may go."
I dismissed Lorelnd and stared at the letter.
I hadn't noticed at first glance, but the crest stamped into the sealing wax looked somehow familiar.
An uneasy feeling settled over me. After breaking the seal and slowly unfolding the contents, I knew my suspicion had been correct.
I will come for you soon.
"'I will come for you soon,' is it…"
Only that single phrase was written on the letter, but it was more than enough to guess who had sent it.
Yohan Radner.
Edward's half-brother.
I thought he would start moving soon enough.
Winter had arrived.
Even in the south, where it remained warm year-round, winter brought occasional sleet or cold winds.
According to the story's flow, Yohan's attack on the mansion was not far off.
"So it has come to this after all."
I sat on the windowsill and thought about the man named Yohan Radner.
A man born a bastard and raised amid discrimination.
In the end he had turned to drugs and seized power in the underworld—an ambitious man.
Yet Yohan was not satisfied with the vast wealth he had amassed.
No matter how much money he piled up, the difference in status determined from birth always left him feeling wretched.
Between a noble with inheritance rights and a bastard born without them, there existed an unbridgeable chasm.
That inferiority complex had turned him into a dog mad for power.
Of course, whether his fierce lust for power stemmed from his birth as a bastard or from his innate nature, I could not say.
What was clear, however, was that Yohan Radner was dangerous.
He was always ready to sink his sharp fangs into me, and the same went for Ania.
Of course, laying hands on the daughter of the Brontë ducal family—the emperor's closest confidants—would be a risky move even for Yohan, but a man who had lost his mind saw nothing.
That was also why he would later be imprisoned after a massive investigation.
As I was lost in thought, someone suddenly knocked on the door.
"Husband."
I had thought it was Lorelnd, but it was Ania.
When I opened the door myself, I saw her dressed in clothes a little more ornate than everyday wear, yet not flashy—tastefully modest.
"What is it, my lady?"
When I asked, Ania looked up at me and said,
"I might be away from the mansion for about two days…"
She smiled shyly and held out the back of her hand.
"I wanted to collect two days' worth in advance."
"You'll be away for two days?"
"Yes."
"On what business?"
When I asked, Ania tilted her head.
"There's a festival in the territory. Father asked if I could deliver the congratulatory address. Since I'm heading back to the territory anyway, I thought I'd stay one night."
The distance from the mansion to Brontë Territory was not far—half a day by carriage.
But… I felt uneasy.
"Then I'll go with you."
"What?"
When I said that, Ania was startled.
"Really?"
"Really. Why, do you dislike the idea?"
"No. I was just… curious about the reason."
"The reason, is it…"
I couldn't very well say that Yohan Radner was targeting my wife.
At this point I was the only one who knew Yohan Radner was the drug lord of the underworld. Whether Ania would believe me was uncertain, and even if she did, it would only make her anxious.
So I offered a suitably plausible excuse.
"If the reason is that I don't want to be apart from my wife, is that not enough?"
It wasn't a lie.
There was no telling when or where Yohan's assassins targeting Ania might appear.
So that was all there was to it.
The words about wanting to be with her.
"I like that."
But Ania, unaware of my true thoughts, smiled brightly.
"I really like that."
Like the Geumdonghwa that blooms without withering even in winter.