Chapter 50
As Long As Love Remains
When asked why he did that, the old steward didn’t answer directly but said something else instead.
“Become a wise ruler.”
Where else in his life would there be a clearer request than that?
Still, in her previous life, Lisana had always kept her position throughout all the hardships he endured. Even if he was no longer her friend and never would be again, Idren valued that one trait in the man highly.
Lisana was capable, and because she lived with a conviction deeper than loyalty, she never mixed personal feelings into her work.
Idren gave instructions to the old man, who looked just as he did in her memories.
“There should be a procession that accompanied Penrel from Reden. They came on behalf of Ophelia. Make sure they don’t reach her and replace them with new people.”
The steward, whose eyes were no different now than years ago, bowed to Idren just as he had to the previous king.
“I will do as you say.”
Since visiting the 7th district of Galisa, nothing else had happened.
Ophelia had come into the castle as the king’s fiancée but had not yet had the wedding ceremony, so she was essentially a guest of the Sigrasil Castle. She quietly enjoyed a life without any authority or obligations.
Idren seemed worried that she might be ill, locked away in her room sleeping all day, but when she said this was the first time in her life she had nothing to do, he understood.
“What kept you so busy in your previous life?”
Ophelia replied to the man who came to her bedroom every night, running his fingers through her hair, saying they had to use separate bedrooms since she was not yet married. “Various things.” She could have explained more if pressed, but it would have been too tiring.
Luckily, Idren didn’t ask further. Ophelia thought it was good that he was quick to notice and turned over in bed. The man’s rough hand brushed past her ear once more before withdrawing.
But that laziness ended today.
Sitting before a large mirror attached to her dressing table, Ophelia thought.
Today was the day of their wedding ceremony. Two months earlier than it had been in her previous life.
A nervousness unlike anything she had felt even during her first marriage arose. A strange feeling rising deep in her stomach caused her to furrow her brow slightly. The servant brushing her hair asked,
“Is there any discomfort?”
Ophelia shook her head at the servant’s soft voice, as if she had swallowed sugar. The only discomfort she had was in her heart, and no one could do anything about that.
So the servant should just brush comfortably, but her hands were more careful than before. Ophelia realized anew that this servant was one Idren had newly assigned, a manner not seen in Reden’s servants.
Even though Idren had said he could manage on his own, he insisted on removing the people who came from Reden.
One day, Ophelia saw the steward, introduced to her at the castle gate, sending away the Reden people under the king’s order.
Though she hadn’t asked for it, the fact that it made her life easier was true, so she thought she should thank him someday, swallowing her anxiety.
The real cause of her unease was the ceremony itself, but also whether Starrett’s mission would succeed.
In her previous life, Starrett had boasted to her about raiding several ships from Brinwell. He even said he had once captured the prime minister’s son and staged a hostage situation, so he was clearly good at pillaging.
Still, Ophelia worried that Starrett might fail—not because she didn’t trust him, but because her hopes were high, and that made her nervous.
“They plan to have a fleet on standby at the harbor in case the pirate fails. So please do not burden yourself.”
Idren said that, but Ophelia didn’t forget his words that direct armed conflict could cause trouble.
So Starrett had to accomplish the task she entrusted him with. That would put Idren at ease, and her dignity would be preserved. Ophelia wanted to prove to the man that the funds he provided were not wasted.
To hide her anxiety, the servant placed the final jewel decoration in her hair as she clasped her hands together.
“You look truly beautiful today.”
Only then did Ophelia properly look at herself in the mirror.
There was a woman in a white wedding dress with lively makeup inside the mirror.
Soon after, Hazel, also dressed in ceremonial attire, came to fetch her. Ophelia was now sure she would never forget the name of the knight Idren had assigned her.
Hazel was to escort her to the great banquet hall of the castle where the wedding ceremony would be held. Idren was already there. According to the customs of Agrante, the groom waited during the day, and the bride waited at night.
When she finally arrived at the banquet hall, someone draped a veil woven with gold thread over her face. The veil, which obscured her view, would conceal her face until the wedding vows were completed.
Holding the knight’s hand, Ophelia walked on the red carpet and finally reached the old altar, where she saw Idren already standing.
He was both the subject of this marriage and the officiant of the wedding vows. Normally, a direct descendant of Sigrasil would act as officiant, but since none remained, the role fell to him.
Ophelia looked at the Sigrasil relic on the hand extended to her. Reden also had something similar.
The necklace, called the Tear of God, should have come into her possession when she confiscated the royal family’s assets in her previous life, but she never received it because it was lost before it reached her.
Of course, that was just an excuse; in reality, it was probably still with King Dares, who stubbornly insisted he had lost the relic.
Remembering that shameless attitude, Ophelia resolved: this time, she would take it no matter what. Though she was not interested in the royal heritage, she wanted to leave nothing to her father’s hands.
The wedding ceremony proceeded as she remembered. As before, Ophelia recited the vows as Idren had taught her.
The vows, made in Agrante’s ancient language, were meaningless to her. Suddenly, she recalled what Idren had said on the ship.
At that time, Idren asked if she did not remember the vows and said, strictly speaking, they were already married.
Ophelia looked up at the man facing her. Just then, he lifted the veil, allowing her to see his neat face clearly.
Before she could ask what the vows meant, the man’s hand touched her forehead. Idren, who gazed down at her with eyes flickering faintly like molten gold, bowed his head. Then the first kiss landed on her forehead.
Holding her warm and soft face, Idren thought Ophelia could never know how much he had wanted this moment.
In truth, she knew nothing about him—not how much he loved her, nor that he acted like a fool before her but was quite respectable otherwise.
To her, he was simply that kind of man: clueless about the obvious.
It didn’t matter. Idren thought as he toyed with the small hand in his own. Whether Ophelia saw him as crazy or foolish, it was all the same. He would repeat all this over and over.
If only he could keep her standing here, he would do anything.
Removing his lips from her smooth forehead, Idren kissed her left cheek. The second kiss.
To that, Ophelia whispered, “Tell me the meaning of the wedding vows.”
Her utterly typical nature—never holding back when she wanted to know—made him smile. Idren brushed the pale cheek that had faintly flushed.
Would Ophelia ever come to understand how deep this feeling was?
As always, hoping for that distant moment, he spoke.
“As long as love remains.”
Then the man gently stroked beneath her chin, still smiling faintly.
Ophelia realized he was about to give his final kiss.
Agrante’s wedding required three kisses: the forehead, the cheek, and then the lips.
Tilting his head, Idren whispered just loud enough for her to hear,
“It also means that marriage is forever.”
Then the man kissed her lips.
Ophelia looked at his closed eyes and the neat eyelashes resting there.
On the ship, Idren had said they were practically already husband and wife. So, that was what he meant…
Ophelia stopped thinking further. She didn’t want to analyze every little detail at a moment like this. Today was important for Idren, so she decided to meet him halfway.
She closed her eyes following his. The kiss, pure warmth with nothing else mixed in, ended quickly.
Startled by the sudden break, Ophelia blinked. Idren also looked down at her with surprised eyes.
If it were her, she could understand, but why was the man like that? When she thought that, he whispered softly,
“I never expected someone to close their eyes when they kissed.”
Ah. Hearing that, Ophelia sighed quietly.
She had never closed her eyes during her first marriage.
