The Tarnished White Rose
The truth was, I still had a few more things to weigh, but the eldest son of the house had just set my small chest on fire.
“How dare a mere dog of the king—”
How dare he throw a mother insult at me?
The moment those words left his mouth, I made up my mind to hammer him into the ground without hesitation.
What did he know about my father? Born the eldest son in the great territory of Serpine and pampered his entire life, what could he possibly understand about the pain of a man who lived as the lord of a minor estate?
That night, as I walked through the garden path leading from the count’s mansion to the count’s palace, I scanned the outer walls with my Status Window. I was looking for Izabo Aud—specifically, where she might be staying.
If she had been lodged inside the count’s mansion, we would have crossed paths at least once. Or at the very least, the countess would have mentioned her to us.
She might have said something like, “The honored guest is staying here, so please refrain from going to that area,” or “The honored guest will be taking her meals separately,” or any number of similar warnings.
The fact that none of those words had been spoken meant she was not within the countess’s domain.
Yet could they really place Izabo Aud anywhere else? If even the slightest harm came to her, the entire Serpine family would bear the responsibility.
Even though the wedding had not yet taken place, considering the finalization of the premarital contract and the paperwork at the temple, Izabo must have arrived at least a week ago.
In that case, the most likely place for her to be staying was the count’s palace.
Bingo. Just as I thought.
Now that I knew where Izabo Aud was, all that remained was to approach her. And that was the easiest thing in the world.
The next morning, after finishing breakfast, I went for a walk with Pythia. As we strolled through the garden in front of the count’s palace, she took my hand.
“I don’t know exactly what you’ve been up to lately… but…”
Her eyes, filled with worry and a touch of loneliness, gazed at me.
“You will be careful, won’t you?”
It was the face of someone who knew I was plotting something. And yet Pythia trusted me without the slightest tremor.
Had there ever been anyone who believed in me this much? Not in Korea, not in Morihan—there had never been a single person who placed such absolute faith in me.
This kind of trust was probably only possible because it came from Pythia. Ordinary people could not believe in others so recklessly.
“Of course, High Priestess.”
“You remember our promise, don’t you?”
When I didn’t answer, Pythia squeezed my hand tightly.
“If anything goes wrong, it has nothing to do with you. Everything was done on my orders. Do you understand, Arian?”
At the time, I simply thought she was saying it out of concern for me.
But now I know. Pythia was truly prepared.
She had deliberately left just enough of a relationship with Count Serpine in case everything fell apart.
Enough to leave cleanly if nothing happened, yet enough leeway to use their personal connection as an excuse to save me if something did go wrong.
I realize now that it was all for my sake.
To someone like her, I could never say something like, “Yes, if things go badly, it was all ordered by the High Priestess.”
When I stubbornly remained silent, Pythia let out a sigh and pulled me into her arms.
“My lovely child.”
Even my mother, Louise, no longer called me that.
“If something happens to you, I truly won’t have the strength to go on living.”
The arms holding me trembled faintly. I closed my eyes within her embrace. She whispered into my ear.
“Would it help you if I stayed quiet? Is there nothing I can do to help?”
Saying “There isn’t” would probably preserve this tender atmosphere.
“Actually, there is.”
Unfortunately, today Pythia had an important role to play.
She pulled back slightly at my words, looking down at me with wide eyes. “Really?”
I met her gaze for a moment before lowering my eyes to the woman approaching from behind her.
I couldn’t see her face, but it didn’t matter. I had the Status Window.
Letters floated gently in the air, drifting closer. The woman’s name, and—
Her position was perfectly clear.
“High Priestess, a maid from the Aud Principality is approaching from behind you. She is known to have been engaged to the prince, but for some reason she has come to Serpine to marry the eldest son of the Serpine family.”
“The Aud Principality. Then it must be Izabo Aud.”
Every time this happened, Pythia felt strangely unfamiliar. With an expression that suggested she knew nothing, she instantly read the entire political situation.
“The engagement was broken in a way that held the royal family responsible, so Aud is seeking marriage with Serpine. You came here with me to meet the Duchess of Aud. Since she is about to be married, she will want to receive the Saintess’s blessing.”
“Yes, exactly.”
“What would you like me to say to the duchess?”
The Pythia who asked that question still looked pure, gentle, and benevolent. I stared quietly at her face before answering.
“Just one sentence will do. I’ll leave it to you.”
At my words, Pythia smiled brightly.
“As much as you wish, Arian.”
Izabo Aud ran her gloved fingers across the round table.
She had turned eighteen this year and had already failed at marriage once.
The prince had humiliated her, so she had nullified the marriage and repaid the humiliation in kind.
The king had tried to appease her while siding with his son, but the Aud Principality had extracted a promise that the royal family would not interfere at all in Izabo Aud’s future marriage.
Immediately afterward, Izabo had brazenly become engaged to the son of Count Serpine, slapping the king in the back of the head.
“Please don’t worry. Everything will go well.”
The head maid tried to soothe her. Izabo was the sole heir to the Aud Principality. Because she had to inherit the duchy as a woman, she had received an even stricter education while growing up.
Her father had loved his late wife so deeply that he could not bring himself to marry another woman.
Of course, there had been considerable pressure within the principality, but in the end her father never remarried. It was for physical reasons.
Izabo resembled her mother. Not only in appearance, but also in health.
Thanks to her father’s blood she was relatively healthy, yet she still caught colds easily like her mother, causing constant worry among the people of the principality.
Still, though her body was somewhat frail, her mind had been forged as strong as steel, and she had come this far.
Lately, Izabo had been unable to sleep. Tomorrow was her wedding day.
It was a union between the Aud Principality and Serpine—why did she feel so uneasy?
The largest alliance in the east was about to be born. It was a force so enormous that both Amein in the east and Morihan in the west would have to watch their step.
She had surely made the most appropriate choice for the future of the principality. It was also a way to make the Morihan royal family pay a proper price for believing they could insult her with impunity simply because her father had passed away.
Everyone was watching with greedy, gleaming eyes, hoping that the eighteen-year-old Izabo would make a mistake and cause the Aud Principality to fall.
Absolutely not.
Izabo thought of her father. Before heading to the battlefield, he had leaned down from his horse, cupped the face of his daughter who had come to see him off, and whispered.
“May the gods protect you, my beloved daughter.”
At that moment, she had wanted to say, “I do not need the gods’ protection. What the gods must protect is you, Father. Please, may the gods guard you, the master of this land.”
But her father had shaken his head as if he already knew what she would say, gave her a wide grin, and rode away.
That proud father had returned to her as a tattered corpse. They said he had been ambushed while leading the troops the king had requested.
To this day, Izabo still did not know who had orchestrated that ambush. Both Morihan and Amein were busy claiming it was not them.
Her father was gone, and she had become an orphan with no one to rely on. Countless people were waiting with bated breath for her downfall.
She had to survive. And she had to take revenge.
Since that day, she no longer believed in gods.
That was why the head maid’s suggestion to bring the Saintess was extremely unwelcome.
Even in the brief time the maid sent by the head maid had gone to fetch the Saintess, Izabo once again reviewed the marriage charter.
To all gods who watch over this land, we offer our prayers.
To all who read this document, both present and future.
Under the grace of the gods,
the union of Izabo Aud, Duchess of Aud, and Amori, eldest son of House Serpine,
has been firmly established with the testimony of the priesthood and the nobility,
and we hereby declare that the two families are bound by honor and faith according to the will of the gods.
From the moment she read the preface, her heart grew heavy.
According to the vassals who had gathered information within the territory, Amori Serpine was rather arrogant and hot-tempered.
He would one day become Count Serpine. How would he view her as his wife?
Would he understand that she was the Duchess of Aud and the ruler of a far larger domain? Or would he be a fool who believed that by marrying him, he had gained ownership of the Aud Principality?
The current Count Serpine, Treven Serpine, was somewhat sleazy and repulsive, but as a trading partner he left nothing to be desired. He was a realist who still made sure to secure proper justification.
According to the priest she had sent to sound out the marriage proposal, the count had burst into laughter at her suggestion and said this:
“Indeed… The late duke once said of his daughter, ‘Though she cannot wield a sword, she is a monarch who can command a hundred knights.’ It seems he was right! Very well. Serpine shall stand beside Aud.”
The count had clearly said he would stand beside them. He fully recognized that the Aud Principality belonged to Izabo.
She had thought the eldest son of such a man would be acceptable, but something still felt off.
That was why she had not refused the Saintess and her disciple brought by the maid.
“Her Grace wishes to request kind words from the Saintess regarding the union of the two families.”
Beyond the curtain, in the outer chamber, the head maid who had received the Saintess in Izabo’s stead spoke in a slightly embarrassed, quiet voice. It was because Izabo had refused to come out of the bedroom until the very end.
The Saintess remained silent for a moment. Then she spoke in a gentle voice.
“What words could I possibly offer for the union of such noble houses? However—”
It was always like this. The word “however” signaled that the real point was coming.
Without realizing it, Izabo clutched the waist ribbon draped over her thigh.
“The white roses that bloom in Serpine are more fragile than one might think. They are often eaten by insects, so it would be best not to use them at the wedding.”
White roses symbolized purity. To say that the white roses blooming in Serpine were fragile and often eaten by insects meant—
‘That Amori Serpine has sullied his chastity?’
How dare he seek to unite with the mistress of Aud while carrying such a filthy body?
Flames sparked in Izabo’s green eyes.