Chapter 6
In addition to that, the head of House Gryxia had always been the strongest knight in the Empire.
For five hundred years, the family had stood beside the Imperial family.
Even among the other ducal houses, House Gryxia occupied a completely different level of prestige.
Their crest bore a silver eagle, symbolizing their unbreakable bond with the Empire, whose emblem was the golden eagle.
It was a ducal house beyond anyone’s reach.
Not even the father of the future Empress could simply ignore the opinion of the Duke of Gryxia.
That was why, whenever the Duke voted against something in the Senate, everyone else became hesitant.
“Count Passen.”
“The wine… Huh? Y-Yes, Marquis. Please, go ahead.”
“What do you think was the reason behind Duke Gryxia’s decision?”
“Why do you think he abandoned all those other opportunities just to choose one insignificant woman?”
“I wouldn’t exactly call her insignificant. That woman once held all of our lives in her hands—”
The marquis narrowed his eyes.
Count Passen hurriedly corrected himself.
“Ah, yes, of course. I also don’t understand why he chose such an insignificant woman. Why would he do that?”
Hopeless.
The marquis couldn’t understand how a man like this had managed to become one of the Empire’s most powerful senators.
Wasn’t his younger sister one of the Emperor’s concubines?
The Emperor really has poor judgment.
The marquis spoke again.
“Perdia.”
“If Duke Gryxia hadn’t intervened, she possessed enough ability to threaten the very survival of our Empire.”
“I acknowledge her talent.”
“But the Kingdom has fallen.”
“Her abilities are useless now.”
“She can never live peacefully in this Empire.”
“The people will never forgive her.”
“If Duke Gryxia truly intends to make her his wife…”
“…House Gryxia will inevitably face severe public criticism.”
“They’ll say he married the woman responsible for slaughtering Imperial citizens.”
“…That’s true.”
Marquis Hallian let out a deep sigh.
Does this fool think I’m saying all this just so he’ll agree with me?
Pressing his fingers against his brow, he continued,
“It’s impossible to believe the duke genuinely fell in love with that woman.”
“If he insisted on keeping her, taking her as a mistress would be one thing.”
“But making her his lawful wife?”
“Ridiculous.”
“He claimed it was for the Empire’s future.”
“He claimed it was the best way to peacefully absorb the Kingdom.”
“If that were truly his goal, he could’ve chosen someone else to carry it out.”
“But instead…”
“…the duke stepped forward personally.”
Count Passen simply blinked blankly.
It felt like talking to a wall.
The marquis silently picked up his wine and drained the glass.
Looking at the count’s foolish expression one last time, he stood.
Surprised, Count Passen opened his mouth to speak.
But the marquis merely shook his head, unwilling to hear another word.
“I’m tired.”
“I should be going.”
“M-Marquis?”
Halfway to the door, the marquis stopped.
He slowly turned around, looked Count Passen up and down, then chuckled.
“You truly are an extraordinary man.”
“Huh? Ah… am I? Hahaha!”
Extraordinary enough to throw away the rare opportunity of having a private audience with me.
The marquis shook his head in disappointment as the count laughed foolishly.
Opening the door, he walked out while one face occupied his thoughts.
What are you planning, Duke Gryxia?
To surpass him.
To become the true power within the Imperial Palace.
To see the son born to his daughter ascend the throne as Emperor and restore his family’s glory.
And…
To crush the House of Gryxia—the family that dared to disregard him.
It was the greatest ambition of his life.
Three Days Later
While Marquis Hallian was still trying to uncover Duke Gryxia’s true intentions…
Ereb and Perdia arrived at his territory after traveling nonstop for three days.
“This is my family’s castle.”
“Whiteflower.”
“…”
Perdia’s mouth fell open.
The enormous outer walls surrounding the duchy were impressive enough.
But the castle itself—
The magnificent fortress known as Whiteflower—
Left her speechless.
“I-Is all of this… the castle?”
“Is it a little big?”
A little?
It wasn’t simply large.
It rivaled a fortress.
Aside from the Imperial Palace itself, there was probably no castle in the Empire that could compare in size.
A mountain stood behind it to the left.
A vast plain stretched endlessly to the right.
Even from this distance, she couldn’t see the entire castle at once.
While marveling at its unbelievable scale, something else caught her attention.
“Did someone paint all those?”
The white flowers covering the front of the castle were breathtakingly beautiful.
Each section displayed flowers of different colors, as though representing different districts of the castle.
“They were painted about two hundred years ago.”
“By one of my ancestors.”
“His final wish was that the flowers should never be erased.”
“So every year we restore them.”
“You repaint them every year?”
“Preserving tradition is important.”
Ereb smiled.
Then he took her hand and led her inside.
The enormous gates slowly opened.
Beyond them lay a vast entrance hall.
“Welcome home, Your Grace.”
The deep, dignified greeting made both of them turn.
Standing in the center of the hall was an elderly man bowing respectfully.
Behind him stood more than a hundred servants lined up in perfect rows.
Every one of them bowed deeply to welcome the two of them.
Faced with such an unfamiliar sight, Perdia froze.
Noticing her nervousness, Ereb quietly intertwined his fingers with hers.
She looked at him.
“Why are you so stiff?”
His black eyes gleamed like polished obsidian.
“This is your home now, Fedi.”
Her gaze slowly dropped to their joined hands.
Their fingers fit together naturally.
As if they had always belonged that way.
Looking down at them, Perdia remembered the conversation they had shared three days earlier.
“I need you very much.”
“I’ll tell you why after we leave this place and arrive at Whiteflower.”
“I know you have many questions.”
“But I can’t answer them here.”
“There are too many ears listening.”
“Please trust me a little longer.”
When she had asked why…
He had smiled.
“Fedi…”
“There are many reasons why you caught my attention.”
“But one thing is certain.”
“You are incredibly precious to me.”
“And very important.”
Precious?
Important?
Why?
Why would he use words like that?
“You are precious to me.”
“Very important.”
“So…”
“Trust me.”
“This is the only way to save you.”
There had been something strangely desperate about the way he tried to persuade her.
She was supposed to be the one begging for her life.
So why was he pleading with her instead?
She couldn’t understand it.
But she had no other choice.
Other than entering a marriage that existed in name only.
“Fedi.”
“Fedi!”
Perdia looked up.
Pulled back to reality by his voice, her unfocused eyes finally regained clarity.
Ereb looked at her worriedly.
“You look tired.”
“Should we skip it?”
“Skip… what?”
Confused, she looked around.
She was standing before all the servants.
Not just servants—
Including the household retainers, there were well over three hundred people watching her respectfully.
Perdia tilted her head in confusion.
Ereb leaned close and whispered into her ear.
“Greeting.”
“Greeting?”
“…Ah.”
Realizing what he meant, she cleared her throat.
Then she slowly spoke.
“I am Perdia Arde Poeheim.”
Her introduction consisted of nothing more than her name.
The crowd stirred briefly.
The murmuring quickly subsided.
But unlike before…
Many of the servants no longer looked at her respectfully.
Instead…
She noticed traces of displeasure in their eyes.
Perdia frowned slightly.
Ereb quietly whispered again.
“We’ll work on that…”
“Little by little.”
“…”
Does he already know how I feel?
She glanced at him.
Meeting her eyes, Ereb smiled reassuringly before turning to address everyone.
“Thank you.”
“For welcoming me home after such a long campaign.”
“I have many things I’d like to say.”
“But we have much to do.”
“So I’ll keep this brief.”
“Viscount Verzin.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
The elderly man who had greeted him first stepped forward and bowed deeply.
“Dismiss the servants.”
“Have everyone return to their duties.”
“And prepare a room for Perdia.”
“Shall I prepare one in the Black Rose Wing?”
“No.”
“Whiteflower.”
“Prepare her room here.”
“…Here, Your Grace?”
The hall erupted into whispers.
Everyone seemed to understand exactly what those words meant.
Everyone…
Except Perdia.
She simply looked around in confusion.
“Yes.”
“Choose a room as close to my bedroom as possible.”
The whispers grew even louder.
Even the head servants, who should have restored order, stood frozen in shock.
Ereb calmly continued.
“I trust you understand what that means.”
“…Understood.”
With a grave expression, the old man bowed deeply.
Ereb turned back toward Perdia.
“Let’s go.”
“Where?”
“Where else?”
A playful smile spread across his face.
“The training grounds.”
Training Grounds
Why am I standing here holding a sword?
Now dressed in light training clothes, Perdia looked down at the practice sword in her hand.
Why?
Why did he bring me here?
She stared at the man warming up in front of her.
Ereb casually stretched before swinging a wooden practice sword through the air.
No matter how much she thought about it…
She couldn’t figure out what was going through his head.
“…What’s your game?”
“What game?”
“I just thought we’d loosen up a little.”
“…We rode in a carriage for three straight days.”
“And the moment we arrive…”
“…you want to train?”
“Are you out of your mind?”
Her complaint was perfectly reasonable.
But Ereb paid it no attention.
He lazily swung the practice sword diagonally through the air, testing its balance.
“So…”
“Your training wasn’t serious enough to keep your body in condition after only three days?”
“…”
He’s provoking me.
Just thinking about everything she’d gone through after transmigrating into this novel made her shudder.
To fully adapt to this body…
To draw out one hundred percent of its potential…
Perdia had spent every single day running across training fields…
Swinging a sword…
Training until exhaustion.
For someone who had once lived such a lazy life…
Those had been the hardest—and most dedicated—days she’d ever experienced.
“Raise your sword.”
His voice cut through the silence.
Perdia bit her lip.
Then she lowered into her stance, gripping her sword.
Normally, the basic stance was to hold the sword in front of the lower abdomen to protect the upper body.
But…
Perdia’s swordsmanship was different from everyone else’s.
