The Eve – April 30th
April 30th—
Before they knew it, the last day of April had arrived. Starting tomorrow, the academy would resume normal operations with its facilities fully repaired, marking the first time Euphemia and I would commute together.
Prior to that, I was conducting a final review of the comprehensive evaluations for the assignments due by April 12th.
‘Surprisingly, they all put in real effort.’
While some treated the academy as merely an extension of high society, others genuinely cared about their grades for the sake of their futures. Those who weren’t in line to inherit their family’s headship had to carve out their own paths, after all. Family relations were rarely harmonious enough to provide otherwise.
That was why they strove to become imperial maids, bureaucrats, or—if they possessed mana—members of the Magic Corps or knight orders.
‘No omissions or mistakes.’
I had instructed them, using commoners as a baseline, to report on experiences that ordinary people inevitably encountered at least once in life, differentiated by gender. Naturally, overlaps were inevitable, so the key criterion in grading was how minimal those intersections were.
Given that priority, the top scores went to the five students who had subdivided their submissions by occupation. And among them, the ones that naturally caught my eye were…
‘Lizzy, Laura…’
The two had filled their reports more densely than any other students, as if locked in competition. Not with filler to pad the volume, but with insights that made one think, Yes, that could indeed happen.
Knock knock.
“Enter.”
The knock shattered the silence outside the office. I looked up and allowed the maid inside.
“Master, a letter from the Imperial Palace has arrived.”
“Hand it over and leave. Ah… and have the carriage prepared.”
“Understood.”
With a bow, the maid departed. I tore open the envelope stamped with the imperial seal and read it.
His Imperial Majesty cordially invites Lord Ferzen von Schweig Brutein
to the grand banquet on May 7th.
Your presence would honor the occasion.
The contents were as expected: a formal invitation to the banquet on May 7th, wrapped in polite pleasantries.
‘Come to think of it…’
It might actually be fortunate that Euphemia wasn’t pregnant at this point. The shock of Ciel Midford’s death could have risked a miscarriage.
‘This imperial banquet will be…’
The definitive conclusion, without a doubt.
For me. For Euphemia.
With that thought, I rose and left the office.
“I’ll be back.”
“Yes. Safe travels.”
The dress for the banquet would take some time, but the madam had said two days would suffice, using pre-made wedding dress bases as a foundation and building from there. And so, two days later—today—I boarded the carriage bound for Azelia to collect it.
“…”
Neither Lee Seojin nor Ferzen had ever experienced a wedding. Yet there was no trace of the excitement it should bring—just an utter unfamiliarity.
Truly… a needless cold, dispassionate shell of a body.
* * * * *
“Mm…”
Letting out a soft groan, Euphemia memorized the basic profiles of the students Ferzen had given her. Her once monotonous daily routine now had purpose, igniting a modest spark of determination in her.
‘Only 14 of them… not too hard.’
She had already committed their names to memory and was reviewing their family backgrounds when a sudden thought struck her.
‘Maybe I should take that too.’
She pulled a small paper from the drawer beside the desk in her bedroom—the problems Ferzen had once given her. Problems 2 and 3, which she had never solved, locked away in mystery.
There was no deadline for the promised reward if she figured them out. Once she grew closer to the professors and students, she could subtly show it to them for help.
If successful, she’d ask for a small shop as her prize. She could use her assistant earnings to renovate it, sparing her the need to beg Ferzen for funds.
Start with a café? It might begin humbly but could grow into a renowned spot for tea parties. Keep the first floor open to all, save up to add second and third floors with entry restrictions for nobles.
Nobles loved such hierarchies. Commoners below, themselves above, exchanging refined conversation—it would stroke their arrogant pride perfectly.
“…”
Folding away her flights of fancy, Euphemia turned to the window.
This was just another given circumstance, moving within the box Ferzen had built. But she wanted to decorate it so it didn’t look miserable to others.
She knew it already appeared like a beautiful castle of happiness to most…
‘Ciel…’
Except to one person. So she hoped he wouldn’t feel bound to her, burdened by guilt…
“What are you thinking so deeply about?”
“……!”
Startled, Euphemia flinched. When had he entered? No sound of the door, yet suddenly he stood behind her, arms wrapping around her waist, drawing her gently into his embrace.
“J-Just… random thoughts…”
Replying steadily without stuttering, she meekly accepted his hands roaming her body lewdly. Her mind still resisted faintly, but her conditioned flesh relaxed like a wagging puppy.
If his touch grew rougher, fear and terror would surge, forcing her into abject submission.
Squeak…
He guided her to the bed, laying her down flat in his arms.
Didn’t he ever tire…?
Her thoroughly tamed body already knew exactly how to respond, even without this groping prelude.
“Ah, um… it’s, the sun’s still up…”
Unlike usual, he slipped both hands into her loosened neckline, kneading her breasts softly. She’d normally grab his forearm to protest, but she abandoned the idea at once.
Instinct told her it exceeded the leash’s length.
Pull too hard, and Ferzen would yank it taut, retraining her harshly.
“You’ve learned quickly. How commendable.”
His mocking whisper clawed at her dwindling pride, but…
“Y-Yes…”
Euphemia could only affirm it.
“Ah, mm…”
For a time, she played his toy—a doll that made sounds—until a night of exceptionally beautiful stars welcomed her.
* * * * *
“Why here…”
After dinner and her bath, Euphemia tried returning to the bedroom, but the maids led her to the dressing room instead.
“Ah…”
There, on a mannequin, hung a breathtaking wedding dress. Did angels attending the gods wear something like that?
“Let’s get you changed.”
“Me…?”
“It’s for you, ma’am. Who else?”
“…”
Silent, she stood still as the maids slowly removed her clothes and dressed her in the gown. They seated her before the mirror, tending to her with unprecedented care.
It felt like magic; watching her transformation in the reflection left her feeling alien to herself.
Descending the hall stairs to the mansion’s garden, she found Ferzen waiting in a crisp suit unsuitable for the early night, hand extended.
“What… what’s all this?”
“Simply continuing the wedding we skipped.”
“…”
Why now? So many questions, but she gazed at his proffered hand and grasped it weakly.
She recalled saying she didn’t envy the Claudia or Alfred weddings back then…
“Walk… to the cathedral like this?”
No carriage prepared, she hesitated, but Ferzen shook his head impassively.
“Even nobles can’t cancel prior bookings at the cathedral on a whim. The gods stand apart from human power, as do humans from the divine.”
Belief was free, but proposing a religion meant execution for rebellion, regardless of status.
“Then, here…?”
“Yes. Don’t worry. It won’t be shabby.”
He’d memorized it, but just in case, Ferzen pulled a blueprint from his pocket. Positioning Isabel’s corpse at the garden’s center, he unleashed his mana at full power.
Magic wasn’t solely for destruction.
Elemental mages who transmuted mana to ice often charged to preview completed buildings from blueprints.
Crack!
Not freezing ambient moisture, but transmuting mana to ice—that was this world’s magic.
Spreading frost climbed the fences like vines, weaving intricate patterns from nothing, birthing existence.
“…”
Even Euphemia, ignorant of magic, sensed the grandeur of this hazy, enchanting spectacle.
Encompassing the vast garden entirely, passersby outside halted, silently admiring.
‘A bit more…’
Exterior was simple, but the interior demanded focus. He wasn’t mimicking a castle, but a cathedral—not the capital’s grand one.
From Lee Seojin’s memories: Las Lajas Sanctuary, deemed holy after the Virgin Mary’s apparition performed miracles.
No firsthand visit, just photos etched in mind—drawing the blueprint had been tricky, but experts excelled for a reason.
Crack—!
The frost ceased weaving after ages. Before them stood a magnificent ice cathedral, ornate and imposing.
Its surface clung with myriad snowflakes, like unsanded wood.
Sudden frigid air had micro-frozen atmospheric moisture.
Ferzen commanded Isabel to stir a fierce wind, scattering them all.
Whoosh!
Ice crystals fluttered down like falling stars in the bright moonlight.
“Pretty…”
Outside, a child grasping her mother’s hand reached for the unreachable jewels.
But soon, shedding its snowy veil like molting, the cathedral revealed its true form—a majestic structure of subtle blue ice. The child clasped her hands, instinctively praying.