BOAD 03

Chapter 3. The Second Wedding

It wasn’t Amelia who tearfully confessed her love that he needed — it was the daughter of Marquis Vermerian, a woman in a key central position of power. From his perspective, his answer had been only natural.

But blinded by that foolish thing called love, I had thought even that was out of pity for me.

I didn’t realize that everything had simply been part of Lloyd’s scheme to manipulate me as desperately as possible.

And so, like the world’s most pitiful lover, I stayed up nights in tears preparing for the wedding.

Looking back, it was probably Father’s wise move, realizing what kind of man Lloyd truly was.

It’s just a shame that I could only be grateful for that fact after dying and coming back.

As I was lost in such thoughts, Father slowly spoke up.

“You’ve always done well. This marriage may be something I pushed for out of selfish fatherly desire, but I’ve always thought you were the only one suited for that position in the Empire.”

“Father…?”

“I know it’s odd to say something like this now…”

His hesitation was unfamiliar, uncharacteristic of him.

What else had happened in the carriage that day?

I was trying to recall when he said:

“Be happy, Amelie. That’s all I wish for.”

“…”

…That definitely never happened before.

I tightened my grip on the bouquet.

I turned my gaze out the window, steeling my expression.

In the heavy silence, where neither of us could speak or ask anything, the carriage slowly moved toward the eye of the storm.

For some reason, I felt like surrendering myself to that tempest today.

The temple where the ceremony was to be held was already packed, not an inch of space left.

Of course, our wedding had drawn overwhelming support and attention from the citizens of the Empire.

After all, this was the marriage of the crown prince — who had yet to announce an engagement even after reaching adulthood — and me, the flower of the social world and the loyal daughter of a pro-Emperor noble house.

I stepped out of the carriage holding my father’s hand and smiled toward the cheering crowd.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes. I’m fine.”

Father whispered quietly, concerned by the swarm of people.

But I had fulfilled my duties as the crown princess even in front of twice this crowd.

This much was easy to face with a smile.

With a calm expression, I walked down the white virgin road laid within the temple.

The first time I walked this path, it had been unbearable knowing it wouldn’t be Lloyd waiting for me at the end.

I’d failed to control my expression due to my sinking mood.

But this second time — there was nothing unfamiliar about it.

I knew who was waiting for me at the end, and I knew what kind of man he was.

We hadn’t shared a bed, but we’d lived for over seven years as husband and wife.

I knew enough about him to envision a new future together.

I even thought perhaps this life might be a little better.

Just as I was about to reassure Father that there was no need to worry—

I saw Leofric standing at the end of the aisle.

Clad in white ceremonial attire, standing tall at the temple entrance, gazing straight at me.

He looked remarkably good in white.

Whether it was his white shirts and trousers in the office, the white coats at parties, or the white uniform for the knights’ training—maybe it was his pale hair or fair skin.

He looked like an angel wrapped in light.

Even in my previous life, the image of him in that white ceremonial outfit had remained vivid.

Back then, he had shone so brightly that even I, consumed by thoughts of Lloyd, had briefly been captivated.

But now… something felt different.

He still shone just as much, still looked amazing in white.

He wore the same ceremonial uniform, had the same hairstyle, stood in the same posture at the entrance.

But yes, it felt slightly different from the memory in my head.

His golden hair sparkled in the sunlight streaming through the windows.

His outfit appeared especially radiant, even within the all-white temple.

Yet—what was different—was his eyes.

Those intense red eyes were now fixed solely on me.

The heart I had just convinced myself was fine suddenly sank.

He had always kept a proper distance — but never before had he looked at me like this.

Except for once, at the very end of his life.

“Hup…”

A wave of nausea twisted in my gut.

That trembling hand reaching toward me in his final moments replayed vividly in my mind.

I struggled to suppress my turmoil and walked slowly toward him.

The closer I got, the clearer the expression on his face became.

Like a long-awaited dream had finally come true.

His burning gaze seemed to choke the breath from my lungs.

Had he ever looked at me with such desperation before?

No—had he ever even looked at me so directly?

There was something else that was different, too.

“Amelie, are you truly alright?”

“…Of course, Father.”

My hand had been trembling slightly for a while now.

I couldn’t even meet Leofric’s eyes, just moving forward mechanically.

That moment when he died kept replaying in my head.

His voice asking me if I wouldn’t regret it, saying that it was enough.

I bit my lip, desperately trying to shake off the memory.

Father, looking at me with concern, missed the cue to hand me over.

“Marquis Vermerian.”

If Leofric hadn’t called out, both Father and I might have stood there dumbly for a while.

Father squeezed my hand once.

Then, very slowly, he placed it into Leofric’s.

“Please take good care of Amelia, Your Highness.”

“I’ll do my utmost.”

His voice, filled with regret and sorrow, clung to my wrist.

Leofric’s firm grip on my hand radiated a strange intensity and resolution.

It felt binding somehow.

A feeling I had never once experienced — not in this life or the last.

But it wasn’t sticky like a lingering illusion, nor cold enough to send shivers down my spine.

Just… strange.

Father, reluctantly taking his seat.

Leofric, holding my hand firmly.

And me — swept up in this inexplicable confusion, unable to calm myself.

I followed him to the front of the temple, silently chewing on emotions I couldn’t name.

High Priest Roberto stood at the altar, holding the holy scripture, where we would vow ourselves before God.

When Leofric and I reached him, we both knelt beneath the altar.

The ceremony itself was simple.

The couple kneels before the altar, and the priest recites blessings and the oath of marriage.

Then the couple places their hands on the holy scripture and recites their vows.

Finally, they exchange rings and kiss — and the ceremony ends.

Nothing particularly beautiful or special about it.

I listened to the priest’s blessings without much feeling.

My head was too tangled to focus on such hollow words.

Thankfully, my veil hid my expression — otherwise, I might have struggled to keep it neutral.

Once I realized I had returned to the past, the differences from my previous life became obvious.

Anxiety crept in: what if the future I knew changed?

Confusion over Leofric’s different attitude.

An uncomfortable tightness gnawing at my chest.

It all exhausted me.

I kept silently repeating to myself: Once he ascends to the throne safely, I’ll leave.

“Now, please place your hands on the scripture and recite your vows.”

If Leofric hadn’t gently tugged my hand, I might have missed my cue, lost in thought.

“I’ll go first.”

Even after Roberto’s voice echoed through the temple, I remained blank until Leofric took my hand.

Did he notice I was distracted?

I appreciated him redirecting me — but it felt oddly unfamiliar.

We’d lived together for seven years — why did he feel so unfamiliar now?

Only briefly lost in thought, I focused again on his voice as he recited his vow.

“I won’t make promises filled with empty words. What I offer you is truth from the depths of my heart and a devotion solely for you.”

Wedding vows were the promises the couple made to one another.

They were meant to be sweet and sincere words, tailored personally.

Some in political marriages had priests or gifted writers draft them instead.

But both he and I had written our own vows last time.

I remembered clearly the polite, formal vow he had given me in our past life.

A vow that sounded purely strategic — promising to provide only the best and ensure nothing was lacking.

I, in turn, vowed to fulfill my duties as his wife for the rest of my life.

I even recalled shoving his vow scroll into some drawer at the palace without much care.

“Life won’t always be kind, but as long as we’re together, I will ensure your smile never fades. In the name of Leofric Baldini Reinhardt, I vow this before God, solely to you.”

But this time — he was different.

Looking directly at me, he spoke a vow entirely unlike the one before.

Words like truth, devotion, smile…

Things I never imagined he would say.

A vow that shattered my expectations of a duty-bound marriage like before.

And now, I hesitated to recite the same old vow I had prepared.