The Golden Banquet Hall
This wedding invited not only the northern vassals but also envoys from the Imperial Palace and high-ranking nobles across the empire.
As the final ceremony of the marriage, the reception drew every guest without exception—meaning the empire’s most powerful figures had gathered in one place, no less than at the wedding itself.
“It would’ve been far more natural if the incident had occurred at the Grand Temple.”
That would have been a shame.
A rite conducted in the name of the gods. A stage bathed in countless watching eyes.
And above all—the temple lay beyond Exepsion’s reach.
But now? The Archducal Castle.
To trigger a Purification Ability surge right at the heart of the Archduke’s stronghold?
One misstep, and the trail could lead straight back to its source—but there was no choice left.
“The risk is high. But if it succeeds… there is no grander stage.”
Odelli was now the Archduchess of Exepsion.
A symbol—and steward—of the entire north.
Yet what if, immediately after the wedding, an unexplained magical surge erupted within her husband’s own domain?
“A political pretext for declaring her unfit as Archduchess.”
It would naturally sow distrust among the northern vassals.
And from that instability, the House of Cardel could be shaken—and the Purification System reclaimed. A perfect two-birds-with-one-stone maneuver.
“Not bad at all.”
Gawin had retrieved the Sacred Relic.
The entangled enchantments were erased without a trace, and the original crystal was carefully returned to its place.
No sign of tampering remained—not a single lingering wisp of magic.
Once all preparations were complete, he rose smoothly, as though nothing had happened.
Then, with gentle warmth, he addressed the priest waiting at the door.
“Your Grace, you may enter. There is nothing amiss inside.”
A saint’s smile.
After the vows concluded, guests boarded carriages and warped from the Grand Temple to the Archducal Castle.
Dozens of carriages wound slowly up the hillside, and Odelli gazed out the window behind the curtain, breathing steadily, deliberately calming herself.
Across from her, Ludville remained silent.
He did not question—as he had yesterday—who she was, or what had passed between them.
Only silence.
He was clearly angry.
She’d arrived at their wedding wearing a ring—presumed to belong to her former lover—hanging from a chain around her neck.
And she hadn’t even known it was *him*.
“When the maid asked, right before the ceremony, whether I should take it off… maybe I should’ve just done it.”
Was it because this ring once held the Jewel of Regression?
Or because it was the very ring he’d offered when he first confessed his love?
Ever since the regression, she’d worn it habitually—like a talisman.
A charm to anchor her resolve.
To remember his sacrifice. To remind herself of what she must do in this life.
So this ring was, in truth, a sacred object—not of faith, but of duty.
And perhaps, deep down, she’d felt a quiet kinship: You wore it to the wedding too. You carried the same weight.
“I never imagined he’d notice.”
He’d reacted instantly—just from her hand rising to her chest.
His instincts were downright animal.
“But is this really the moment to feel so emotionally raw?”
Mentioning Clause Nine of the Contract Marriage Articles now would be like pouring oil on fire.
Uncomfortable under the heavy silence, unsure how to break it, Odelli spent the entire ride inwardly tangled—her thoughts a storm of doubt and calculation.
Before long, the Archducal Castle’s colossal gates groaned open.
Inside, the castle had already been lavishly adorned.
“……”
The Golden Banquet Hall.
The place where he’d hosted daily banquets, searching for the Blue-Eyed Woman.
The site of the wedding eve celebration—and now, the reception.
All three banquets had, in the end, been held for Odelli.
So this golden hall was, in truth, his way of welcoming her.
Even without memory—even unconsciously—he had kept waiting.
“I’m still here for you.”
“What do I do?”
She was afraid.
Afraid Ludville might fall in love—with Odelli, not the ghost of a memory.
Yes, that sounded absurd—like some feverish delusion.
But Ludville was a man who had regressed thousands of times, fixated on a single soul.
If his actions now stemmed only from nostalgia for a past love, then it was bearable.
But if his heart was slowly turning toward her—the Odelli standing before him now—if his gaze was shifting from the shadow in his memories to the woman breathing beside him…
“……No. Not yet.”
His feelings weren’t love—not yet. They were closer to obsession. To possession.
He was drawn to Odelli only because she evoked the Blue-Eyed Woman he’d spent lifetimes seeking.
……For now.
Truly, it would remain so—for now.
If his emotions were merely a reflex toward something familiar, then this level of fixation was acceptable.
She only needed to ensure they didn’t go further.
“As long as it isn’t love.”
To keep up the act, Odelli lifted her gaze to Ludville, who escorted her into the hall.
Once the reception ended, she wouldn’t need to play the lovestruck bride any longer.
Then, they could redefine their relationship—and their distance.
Just this much. No more, no less.
If he reached for her, she would step back—before his fingers brushed her skin.
“Even if you look at me like that, I won’t leave your side.”
“……”
“I believe I made it quite clear earlier—I cannot be separated from you. Not ever.”
Ludville stared at her, even while angry—steadfast, unyielding.
No, perhaps even more tenacious than before.
She’d expected him to snap, as he had at the last banquet—ordering her to stand apart, to stop intruding.
“……That’s not why I was looking.”
Odelli exhaled softly and continued.
“Actually, I’d like some help.”
“Help?”
He understood the unspoken meaning instantly—his expression shifted.
With open disgust, he murmured low enough to be almost inaudible.
“So it’s come to this, then.”
“Yes. Regrettably.”
She’d known from the start that Gawin would never retreat.
In fact, she’d hoped he wouldn’t.
Her elaborate scheme would have collapsed without even being tested—so he *had* to strike again.
And Odelli had banked on exactly that psychology.
She’d deliberately disrupted a single circuit—making it appear like a simple mistake by the Cardel side.
She’d even left the Chaos-Tuning Stone unrecovered.
All to lure him into reusing the same method—his familiar weapon—rather than forcing him to devise something new, unpredictable, and harder to counter.
“The Chaos-Tuning Stone… well.”
For centuries, Cardel had forged Purification Ability Users—replacing them like broken tools.
While alive, they bled their power. After death, their bodies became relics.
A brutal, grotesque artifact.
Odelli knew it better than anyone—she’d endured it longest.
Which meant she understood it best.
“Gawin believes that relic is his sole, overwhelming means of control over me.”
Ironic, then, that it had become Odelli’s most familiar instrument.
Of course, it was designed exclusively for Purification Ability Users—so it was dangerous. Extremely so.
“Worth using.”
