Set Up the Wedding Hall Next to the Warehouse
The administrative office of the Black King Castle.
At the very top of the desk piled high with papers lay a document with only a title written on it.
I stared at those words for a long time.
It looked perfectly fine.
On the outside, at least.
But why did the reality of it feel so messy?
The House Alliance Guarantee Draft.
"We cannot choose a marriage partner based on lineage alone," Ibelin said.
She was sitting across from me, holding a ledger in her hands.
"For any noble house bound to us by marriage, we must simultaneously review their warehouses, transit rights, workshops, medicinal supply rights, and administrative authority over the lower bloodlines."
I nodded.
On the outside, at least.
Inwardly, I was thinking otherwise.
Wasn't marriage supposed to be between two people?
No, if I said something like that in this world, I would be treated as if I were reading from a cheap morality textbook.
Royal marriages were fundamentally transactions between houses, with the physical bodies merely following after the fact. I knew that much.
Still, having my bedroom scrutinized as if it were a vital piece of national infrastructure felt like it was crossing a line.
"Your Majesty's marriage is the oldest method of reaffirming the center of the Demon King's authority to the noble houses," Herman said.
His voice was low and cautious, as usual.
Yet, strangely, his eyes were bright.
The old man was excited. He was definitely excited.
He looked like someone who had spent decades clutching the documents of a collapsing royal family, only to finally be able to draft a royal wedding proposal.
Looking at his face made my stomach churn slightly.
"Once the spouse's house is confirmed, the deployment of the Black Armor Guards must also be restructured," Barkan chimed in.
"The protocol routes, lodging security, banquet hall access points, drinking water inspection, and the perimeter around the bedchamber—everything will change."
They were already planning the wedding security.
And I hadn't even said who I was marrying yet.
No, what was even more annoying was that nobody had bothered to ask.
"Are you getting married, Your Majesty?"
No such question was raised. It was taken as an absolute given.
The discussion had already skipped ahead to the next stage.
With whom?
In what order?
Under what conditions?
Which noble house should they shake up first?
"Depending on the order in which we leak the rumors, we can identify which houses move first," Seradin said quietly.
She stood near the door, positioned like a shadow, seeming to listen more to the breathing outside the room than the conversation within.
"A house that desires this marriage will show its greed before its loyalty. Greed is difficult to hide."
She was treating my marriage as a trap.
Well, she wasn't wrong.
She wasn't wrong, but...
Sigh. Why do I feel so complicated about this?
"Aligning with a powerful house will bring immediate strength," Herman said, pointing to a line on the genealogy chart.
"However, that house's shadow will loom closer to the throne."
Ibelin slid another chart beneath it.
"Conversely, elevating a weaker house that controls key transit routes can create a balance. It is slower than directly absorbing a house with massive warehouses, but it establishes a new axis that depends entirely on the Demon King's authority."
Barkan spoke up.
"If we accept a weaker house first, assassination attempts will increase. To the powerful houses, it will read as a declaration of war rather than a marriage."
Seradin added her piece.
"External bloodlines will cause even more of an uproar, Your Majesty. The Northern Guarantor, the Kingdom's princess, the suspected royal bloodlines... Just the mention of their names will set everyone in motion."
I tapped my fingers on the table.
Accept a strong house, and I get swallowed whole.
Accept a weak house, and my shield is too thin.
Accept an external bloodline, and the interior of the Demon Realm destabilizes.
Accept an internal bloodline, and the Human Kingdoms and Serapion recalculate their moves.
No matter who I chose, the board would shake.
Which meant I could use it to my advantage.
It was a dirty answer.
"Reorganize the criteria for the candidates," I said.
Herman opened a blank line beneath the document's title.
I dictated.
"The prestige of their lineage."
Herman wrote it down.
"Their willingness to cooperate with warehouse audits, and their acceptance of the Black King Castle's Standard Measurement."
Barkan uncrossed his arms, and Seradin slightly tilted her head.
A Demon King's marriage in this world was rarely a one-time affair.
But that didn't mean marriage lost its significance.
No matter the circumstances, in principle, it was still about finding a partner to share the rest of one's life with.
"The sections of supply and trade routes to be opened, and the ratio of workshops that can be repurposed."
If I was going to commit to this...
"And guarantees on the distribution lines for the lower bloodlines."
I might as well milk it for all it was worth.
"Military guarantees to the Black King Castle."
I paused for a moment.
"Finally, their willingness to accept restrictions on their house's monopolies post-marriage."
The tip of Herman's pen froze for a fraction of a second.
Having finished writing, Ibelin looked up at me with a dazed expression.
"Y-Your Majesty..."
"Speak."
The question of whether I had prepared this beforehand quickly vanished from her eyes, replaced once again by her professional demeanor.
"The final clause will face severe backlash."
"That's exactly why I'm putting it in," I said.
"If they want to marry into my house, they must show how much of my burden they are willing to bear."
As those words left my mouth, the air in the room shifted slightly.
My burden. My things.
It was because of that phrasing.
The throne.
The warehouses, the roads, the workshops, the private armies.
And the bedchamber.
All of it was encapsulated in that single phrase. I knew it, but I didn't correct myself.
Ibelin flipped to a new chart.
"Based on current classifications, House Nordheim is strong in warehouses and military supply networks. However, they will detest the Standard Measurement the most."
She pointed to the next line.
"The transit-route houses are low in rank but highly practical. The workshop houses are prideful, and the medicinal houses show traces of past transactions with Serapion."
"What about Roadmia?"
That name was not on the chart.
It wasn't a mistake. Ibelin was not the kind of woman to accidentally omit her own family.
"My father, the head of the house, believes Your Majesty has separate intentions kept close to your chest."
By now, that cunning head of House Roadmia had probably caught wind of the relationship between Ibelin and me.
Since it was highly likely, I didn't press further.
Ibelin didn't say anything more either.
However, the tip of her finger pressed down on the corner of the paper once.
It was a brief gesture.
Which only made it stand out more.
Herman spoke up cautiously.
"Your Majesty. Proceeding via official decree will establish order."
Seradin immediately countered.
"An official decree will not be enough."
Everyone looked at her.
Seradin spoke in a low voice.
"Rumors will reveal their true intentions."
I smiled.
For real, this time.
"I like it."
Seradin bowed her head.
"How about we leak the rumors and observe who sends servants first, who opens their genealogy records first, and who is the first to strike the names of their branch-family daughters?"
Barkan spoke up.
"If the rumors grow too heated, it will lead to clashes."
"That's why I have you," I replied.
Barkan gave a brief nod, looking as if he had received a highly satisfying answer.
Why is everyone so excited?
This is my wedding we're talking about.
Then again, the ripple effect of my position was too massive to dismiss it as just a personal marriage.
And it was a plan I had set in motion precisely to exploit that fact.
The marriage of the Demon King.
In this room, the human named Lucion was gradually fading away.
In his place, the title of the Demon King grew heavier.
No one asked if I actually intended to marry.
They only discussed with whom, under what conditions, and which house I would shake up first.
Everyone would have to admit it.
The value of my name was rising.
In the past, no one believed in me as a king.
Not the women who claimed to love me.
Not the nobles who used me.
Not even the Demon Realm that claimed to protect me.
They all only saw the person named Lucion.
A weak, disposable prince who could be pushed aside.
But not anymore.
A single marriage of mine could now force open warehouses.
It could shake transit routes and divide workshops.
It could rob the daughters, sons, and aging patriarchs of the noble houses of their sleep.
It was hilariously absurd.
"Seradin."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"How far can you spread it?"
"A single sentence will suffice."
"Let's hear it."
Seradin did not hesitate for even a second.
"'His Majesty the Demon King is considering marriage.'"
Barkan already looked as if he was calculating patrol routes.
Ibelin watched me, her pen still in hand.
I asked, "The candidate?"
"Undisclosed," Seradin replied.
"The conditions?"
"Undisclosed."
"The scope?"
"We will deliberately keep it vague, ensuring it does not directly clash with the royal family, the noble houses, the external guarantors, or the suspected royal bloodlines."
I liked it.
I leaned back against the chair.
"If there is no candidate and no conditions..."
My voice sank low, echoing across the floor of the administrative office.
"...everyone will bring their own names and conditions to us."
Herman closed the document.
His touch was reverent, as if covering an ancient crown with a cloth.
Ibelin wrote a title on the first line of a new ledger.
I stared at the words.
"Spread the rumor," I said.
Seradin bowed her head.
"That the Demon King is considering marriage."
That night.
No official decrees had circulated within the Black King Castle yet.
No royal orders had been sent to any noble house, and no seals had been stamped on any warehouse documents.
Yet, at the end of a corridor, a maid slowed her pace.
An archivist at the bottom of the stairs looked up.
A soldier guarding the western annex whispered to his comrade in a hushed tone.
"Did you hear?"
Words traveled faster than documents.
Desire rode the wind, soaring through the air.
That day, the first thing to move within the Black King Castle was not a spear, a ledger, or magic.
It was a rumor.