Warrior Marygold (8)
During the three days leading up to the wedding, Marygold's mood swung wildly between heaven and hell.
"Young Master Dante is marrying the head steward's daughter?"
"Heh, what a shocker."
"He acted like he had no interest in women, but he couldn't resist one of the empire's three great beauties after all."
"I wouldn't be able to either. How do you even hold back against one of the three great beauties? Makes me wanna ask him for his secrets."
The people gathered in the mercenary guild all reacted with shock, and for some reason, they kept glancing at Marygold.
"Mary must be heartbroken."
"She's been off since this morning..."
Marygold could pick up even the quietest whispers like a ghost. She stomped over to the murmuring group.
"Not gonna work today? You think the mercenary guild is some tavern?"
"D-did she hear us?"
"Hear what? Anyway, keep slacking and I'll tell the master."
"B-but there's no work!"
Marygold's hand drifted toward her sword hilt.
"Then how about a spar to loosen up?"
"I-I think I gotta go."
"M-me too, me too!"
It happened several times that day alone. She had no idea why everyone was so conscious of her regarding the master's wedding news. But one thing was clear—it was grinding her nerves raw.
"You'll meet a good guy, Mary. Or how about me?"
"No thanks."
Even the number of guys hitting on her and getting too close had increased.
* * *
The day before the wedding arrived swiftly.
"Mary, no jobs today. You're coming with me."
"Huh?"
"Gonna buy you some new clothes."
"I already have plenty."
"You gotta look the part to enter the palace. I said you'd come with me, remember?"
For some reason, Lancel planned to bring Mary to the imperial palace wedding. Thanks to that, she spent the whole day touring high-end clothing shops, getting fitted for a full dress from head to toe.
"Looks pretty on you. Suits you."
Or "Even the prince would fall for you."
Mary floated on a cloud from Lancel's endless compliments—until
"Well, well, if it isn't the head steward's son-in-law! Sir Lancel! How'd you snag one of the empire's three great beauties?"
"Who knows with the world. Thought he was some rough young guy starting a mercenary guild, heh heh."
She overheard capital nobles who recognized Lancel on the street, and her body went rigid.
Lancel Dante is marrying the Iceford lady!
In Rodnis, where romance scandals spread like wildfire, the news had already gone viral in days. Similar gossip followed them everywhere.
"So, kids? Planning right after the wedding?"
"Dunno. Haven't thought that far. No rush, right?"
"Come on, no need to play coy with us."
"What do you mean?"
"This. You know. Already done it?"
A crude gesture. Laughter erupted from the watching nobles.
"Hahaha!"
"Kuh huh huh!"
Crack.
A fissure ran through the wooden cup in Marygold's hand.
Marriage, kids, happy family...
Crunch!
She tore into a hard loaf of bread savagely.
Something was wrong. It felt like a smoldering ember had taken root in the center of her chest.
Every mention of marriage, the Iceford lady, or the empire's three great beauties fanned the flames like a bellows, stoking the spark inside her. Heat was literally rising from her body—it was that real.
"Mary, half's going in your mouth, half's spilling."
"The bread's! Too hard! Can't help it! Grrunch!"
"Tear it with your hands. That's expensive clothes."
Then Lancel Dante would approach, and the fire would die down again. Marygold repeated this cycle all day.
"Do you like him, maybe?"
"Huh?"
Pina asked that night before bed.
"Uncle Lancel."
"Like him? Me? The master?"
"Yeah. Like him?"
"W-well, yeah, I like him fine."
"Not like that. Like a woman. Wanna kiss him or whatever."
"Wh-what...?"
Marygold stammered.
Lancel Dante. The man from her old dreams long ago. As her husband from a previous life.
Every time she saw him, nostalgia washed over her. Like recalling her mother from childhood, separated too soon.
Holding him brought back those memories—she never wanted to let go.
It was true. But was that really liking him? Real love?
Marygold didn't know her feelings well.
"I..."
What kind of person was he? Why did he appear in her dreams? Why was she drawn to him?
If there was a god, she'd ask them.
Right. God...
"God!!!"
A woman wailed loud enough to shake the heavens. Fury boiled inside Marygold as she watched. Lancel Dante had his ears plugged.
"What do we do about this?"
"Make her understand somehow. She's my daughter, but once she flips, she's like that."
Even the court count, who rushed over upon hearing the news, clutched his head.
"Either way, the ceremony must happen within two hours. Too many guests to delay now."
"Tch, headache."
Ideas flew fast: soothe her, gag her, knock her out and drag her, mind-control spell, etc. All shot down.
"My groom should be a prince... sob sob..."
Frost gathered in Marygold's eyes.
"Her eyes are terrifying, Mary."
"That's the average pampered noble lady. Master."
"Don't forget the one who pampered her is right here listening?"
"I'm fine. It's true."
The court count admitted it cleanly. He knew his daughter was a handful too.
"But young master, something occurred to me while looking at the bride's attire."
Hestie broke the silence, holding up the veil for the bride's face.
"So the capital nobles wear this over their heads for the ceremony, right?"
"Yeah. So?"
"What if I just wear it and stand in for the ceremony?"
"...Hestie, you're not right in the head either."
"Was that weird?"
"A stand-in at a wedding?"
Lancel laughed hollowly, then a smile tugged at his lips. He glanced at the court count, who recoiled.
"Don't even think it. His Majesty is watching."
"I'll take responsibility."
Lancel wasn't too worried. If no one finds out, problem solved. Even if caught, fine.
He already knew who the current emperor (fake) was. Not the type to care about this. Might even enjoy the spectacle.
The court count sighed at Lancel's insistence.
"I'm not involved. If it goes wrong, you handle it all."
"Of course."
After beheading a prince, what was this to fear?
17.
"Enter."
The hall buzzed with nobles. A palace wedding was a rare event. The head steward's daughter as bride? Most dropped everything to attend.
"In the name of God, I, Phrigia, bless this union."
The emperor overseeing the wedding remained behind the curtain.
"The two to be wed, approach the altar and face each other."
Lancel ignored the dazzling decorations and countless stares. He was too busy feeling déjà vu from the disguised bride beside him, Hestie.
Did they give her heels that high?
The nobles reacted similarly.
"Was she always that tall?"
"Kinda tall for a woman. No wonder she's one of the three great beauties."
"Still, seems taller than usual."
"My woman... the one who should have been my woman... sob."
A few sobbed here and there. Plenty of noblemen had been smitten with the Iceford daughter.
Hestie, veiled, hadn't spoken a word since appearing.
My first marriage partner in life is Hestie.
Technically Marygold came first, but he had no memory of that. For him, this was the first.
Amid yellow petals raining like a storm, Lancel and Hestie faced each other.
"Silence. All hear."
The emperor behind the curtain raised a hand.
"Ahead of these two now joined lie perhaps countless trials. Days of breaking and shattering will always block their path. But if they rely on and aid each other, I, Phrigia, believe without doubt they will overcome."
That's when Lancel realized.
The identity of the person before him.
How could he not? The veiled face outline was the one he knew best in this world.
Marygold?
Why are you here? He barely swallowed the words. The ceremony continued.
Hestie's doing?
Had to be. Lancel eyed Marygold's trembling shoulders amid the stares. She was tense.
He placed a hand on her shoulder gently. Stared into her eyes beyond the veil.
Her shaking eased.
"O God. Under this heaven blessed, the two become husband and wife."
The imperial archbishop began the vow.
"Let no good or evil, death or life, time or eternity, sunder them!"
Affinity with young noble Lancel Dante has increased.
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Beyond the falling petals, Marygold's face came into view. Lancel gave a wry smile.
Screwed again?
But why? It didn't feel so bad. Relieving, even.
Time was infinite, after all.
"The two shall kiss."
Lancel approached Marygold and pressed his lips to hers.
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Huh?
What was that?
The thought vanished. Drowned by the hot sensation on his lips.
18.
"Your Majesty."
That evening, a steward entered the emperor's chambers.
"Urgent message from the 5th Prince at the front lines. Requests reinforcements."
"...Stubbornly charging into war, and now he's caused trouble."
The voice from behind the curtain wasn't the heavy middle-aged man's anymore. The complete opposite—a young woman's.
"Assemble troops by tomorrow and send with the 6th Prince."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"Wait."
The voice stopped the steward.
"Send Lancel Dante too."
"Sending the man who just wed straight to war? Tongues will wag. Truly?"
Low laughter came from behind the curtain.
"Recommended by the 3rd Prince himself as a capable knight. Might as well trust him once."