Chapter 19
“Lieutenant, are you going to live with me forever? Do you love me?”
Curtis suddenly asked Chloe that question and looked at her closely, his eyebrows drawn together.
“No! Definitely not,”
Chloe replied immediately, looking shocked and serious. Her quick denial made Curtis a little annoyed. He narrowed his eyes.
“Then what is it?”
“Nothing.”
“Say it.”
“Honestly… I feel like I’d be risking my life if I said it out loud.”
That answer only made Curtis more sure she was about to say something rude. But now he was curious, so he smirked and said,
“Why does your ‘survival’ keep coming up so often? I won’t hurt you. Just say it.”
“Yes, sir. I was just surprised that Your Grace believes he’s capable of having a romantic relationship.”
In other words: Someone with a terrible personality like you? Dating? Really? Curtis started to wonder if Chloe agreed to marry him just to mock him every chance she got. And surprisingly… she might’ve hit the nail on the head.
“You think I can’t date someone? What do you think I am?”
Curtis laughed and showed his teeth.
“Even if I say it myself, there are lots of noble ladies who are in love with me.”
“Then why are you marrying poor me instead of one of them…?”
Pfft! Noel, standing nearby, couldn’t hold in his laughter. She wasn’t wrong. If Curtis had found a better match, he wouldn’t be sitting here, making a marriage contract with Chloe.
Curtis glared at Noel and rubbed his temple in frustration.
“I’m human too, okay? If the Royal Guard weren’t so lazy, I might’ve been considered a decent boss.”
“Did you really just say that about yourself…?”
Curtis twitched his finger, annoyed, but Chloe quickly held up the contract draft to defend herself.
“Curtis S. Verque shall consider Chloe Amboise his superior and treat her with maximum respect.”
Just then, Noel stepped in to help his friend.
“Haha, seriously though, Lieutenant Amboise. Curtis is actually a great leader on the battlefield—where everyone follows orders strictly.”
Chloe rolled her eyes slightly. Sure, the navy was said to be undisciplined, but the Royal Guard was just as messy behind the scenes. Most of them were spoiled noble kids, after all.
Still, Curtis relaxed a bit and crossed his arms.
“You’ve got quite the expression there. Don’t worry—I won’t be trying to impress you.”
“Much appreciated.”
Whether Curtis noticed the sarcasm or not, he continued.
“As soon as we take down the King, I plan to find a noble family that suits me and get remarried. Just so you know.”
Hearing that, Chloe glanced at the ring on her left hand—the amethyst engagement ring.
Curtis had asked her to be the temporary owner of his soul.
Temporary owner.
“So when you say you’ll divorce me later—will it be because you’re cheating?”
Curtis looked at her strangely.
“You’re… not upset by that?”
“By the whole ‘better family match’ thing?”
Chloe just shrugged.
“It’s true. So why would I be upset?”
It was true—but still, most people would feel hurt hearing that.
“Hmm…”
Curtis gave her a strange look. Chloe noticed.
“If you were worried about hurting my feelings, maybe you shouldn’t have said it in the first place.”
“…I wasn’t worried.”
For some reason, he was the one who felt embarrassed now.
Chloe ignored him and continued reading the contract, then pointed at one part with her finger.
“This part—where it says I shouldn’t enter your private space or have personal feelings—what exactly counts as ‘private space’? Your room? Office?”
“My bed.”
Chloe made a face. Curtis explained, still expressionless.
“I hate it when someone I’m not close to lies on my bed. I don’t even like someone else being in the same room. This isn’t a war camp.”
“But… aren’t we getting married? What if it’s necessary?”
“Lieutenant. Let me be clear—if you have any romantic feelings for me, give up now.”
“I’m starting to feel something right now. Like… anger.”
Curtis crossed out the words ‘personal feelings’ and rewrote it as:
‘romantic feelings’
Chloe looked serious.
“That’s the one clause I’m completely confident about.”
“Don’t be.”
“It’s because I’m not from a ‘proper’ family, right?”
“You really hold a grudge, huh?”
Curtis narrowed his eyes and said,
“If it ever becomes necessary, I’ll allow it. But tie your hair up. And wear long clothes.”
Right. This man had serious cleanliness issues.
Chloe gave him a tired look.
“I have a question. Doesn’t your own hair bother you?”
“Mine is short.”
“Most guards have short hair too.”
“They’re dirty. I’m not.”
Wow, that was unfair.
“I’m clean too, you know?”
But Curtis was firm.
“Your hair is long and black. When it falls, it’s noticeable. Mine’s blond—it’s harder to see.”
“Right…”
They bickered like this until the contract was finally complete. Both of them looked at it and thought the same thing: This is such a silly, ridiculous contract.
But at least they were both satisfied.
Noel handed each of them a neatly copied version of the contract. He would keep the originals since he was the witness. Chloe looked at the signed copy with a sigh.
“Thank you, Lieutenant Monfils.”
“Anytime. Come to me if you need help again.”
Noel smiled and handed her a pen. While Chloe signed, Curtis said one more thing.
“Noel, I trust you—but don’t tell anyone about this. Especially Agathe.”
“You’re one to talk.”
Chloe blinked at the name. Agathe?
She looked curious, and Noel smiled bitterly.
“My younger sister.”
“Oh, I didn’t know you had a sister.”
“Yeah… she likes this guy.”
“Oh no… How awful for her.”
Chloe sighed, and Curtis, who was also signing, let out a laugh, causing ink to splatter on his fingers.
“You’re one to talk, Lieutenant Amboise.”
Chloe pretended not to hear him. Noel chuckled and placed both signed contracts into a leather folder.
“This one is the real contract. Now I’ll write the fake one.”
Because Curtis was part of the royal family, the prenup had to be submitted to the palace. After all, the Duke title came from the royal family. Noel started writing the fake version without much care.
“Let’s see… The title will pass to any children born of the marriage. And how much should we say the dowry is? His Majesty will want to squeeze out as much as possible.”
While wiping the ink off his hand, Curtis scoffed.
“From a woman who earns 40,000 sings a month? He wants blood from a stone. Just say I’m paying 8 million sings.”
“8 million?!”
Chloe almost fainted. Noel added casually:
“That’s the same dowry promised if we capture the pirate king in Glintrand. Bartholomew Rogers.”
Eight million songs. Chloe was shocked at how much this fake marriage was costing. But even though Curtis was the one paying, he didn’t seem to care much.
“I guess it’s proof of how much I ‘love’ you.”
That reminded Chloe of the public statement Curtis had given to the newspapers:
“I am not a king. I don’t choose a bride for money or power. I chose the path of a soldier to stay beside the one I love.”
To outsiders, it sounded noble and romantic.
But Chloe suddenly felt nervous.
Because she was a penny-pincher.
She had a habit of calculating whether anything was worth the money—especially when it came to her own money. But she also did that with other people’s money.
If someone spent money on her, she felt responsible to prove she was worth it.
But… 8 million songs?
Chloe started to doubt if she was truly worth that much.
Still, it was too late now. The contract was signed. Noel handed her the real, official contract.
“Here. Please take it.”
The leather folder had the Duke’s seal. Chloe carefully opened it.
The paper was high-quality and printed with the family’s crest. The rules were written clearly in expensive ink. Even though the contents were kind of silly, it looked very official.
Noel’s neat handwriting helped too.
“But maybe the original one looked better…”
She glanced at the draft on the desk—Curtis’s messy handwriting looked strangely more powerful. But then Noel quietly picked it up and tucked it away.
For some reason, seeing that contract disappear made her feel a little sad.
Then—
“Now that everything’s written and signed, shall we move on to the main part of the wedding?”
Curtis stood and reached out his hand to her.
Chloe blinked and looked at his ink-stained fingers.
“The… main part?”
