YATED 23

Again, Marriage (3)

The bride was sulking, and the groom was unexpectedly enthusiastic as the wedding day approached.

In Lusenford, the Grand Duke himself took the lead in preparing wholeheartedly to welcome his Grand Duchess. In Ostein, Caella’s father caused the greatest commotion of all. Since Caella had no mother, he repeatedly checked everything himself, insisting nothing could be missing from her wedding preparations.

And amid all that, the bride herself alone had no opinions whatsoever.

Whenever the groom’s side asked what she wanted, she gave only frustratingly vague answers like, “Anything is fine.”

Pheon felt guilty.

In the first wedding—one he barely remembered because he had deliberately avoided caring and tormented himself alone—he had treated everything carelessly.

Caella didn’t know it, but he felt unbearably sorry for that.

So this time, he wanted to do better than before.

He put care into every single detail.

But gradually, it became harder and harder for him to keep hold of his sanity.

Have you ever remarried the woman you killed with your own hands?

The woman quietly walking down the aisle holding her father’s arm looked like a radiant bride of spring.

She suited the ruler of the gloomy, wintry North not at all.

That was right.

She didn’t suit him.

Her cheeks were flushed with shy rose-colored warmth, her eyes beneath long lashes held the clarity of an open sky, and beneath her neat nose were lips as red as her cheeks, perfectly arranged on her small face.

Her wedding dress and veil wrapped around her slender body trailed magnificently long, symbolizing both Ostein’s wealth and Lusenford’s prosperity.

The woman was beautiful.

“I’ve never seen such a rushed wedding before, but they still managed to prepare everything properly.”

“Duchess Monde didn’t come, did she?”

“If she had, she’d have been executed on the spot. How could she dare show her face here?”

Whispers brushed past the ears of the man marrying the same woman for the second time.

In the first wedding, he had never heard those voices.

Today, Pheon realized for the first time that his approaching bride wore no expression at all.

What had she looked like before the regression?

Her indifferent husband couldn’t even remember.

At least it was fortunate if the miserable bride being dragged unwillingly into marriage hadn’t cried.

Even now, despite having one of the richest fathers in the Empire, she was still an unhappy bride.

“A delicately raised young lady, and she’s going all the way to that freezing place…”

“There must have been far better husbands available. His Majesty truly…”

“The only one benefiting is Grand Duke Lusenford for gaining such a wealthy wife. His Majesty benefits too, since he can reduce financial support.”

The grand organ music clearly meant to celebrate the wedding sounded instead like a funeral march to the bride walking forward.

Have you ever remarried the man who murdered you?

Despite all her refusals and resistance, Caella was once again marrying the Grand Duke of Lusenford in the bright spring sunlight.

Quietly, she walked toward death.

So this is the road to dying.

She walked obediently like livestock being led calmly to slaughter.

“Caella. It was always my dream to walk with you like this. I’m truly happy today.”

Having accompanied her to the end of the aisle, Adeo smiled gently.

Amid all the judgmental stares, only the bride’s father poured sincere affection and devotion onto his daughter.

To Caella, this wedding meant nothing at all.

It wasn’t even her first marriage.

It was her second—and to the same man again.

Why would she be nervous?

Flowers symbolizing a happy marriage.

Gold coins sewn into the soles of her shoes symbolizing wealth.

The long dress and veil symbolizing the groom’s love.

Once, Caella had attached meaning to every one of these traditions.

Now she knew they were all pointless.

Her previous marriage had taught her thoroughly that all this effort brought nothing in the end.

The young bride who had lost her father before had struggled desperately to meet every expectation so no one could criticize her.

But without adults to guide her, naturally there had been countless flaws for others to point out, and she had cried often alone.

This time, however, the bride wasn’t anxiously running around.

This time, she had a father proudly declaring it was his daughter’s wedding and overwhelming everything with sheer resources.

This time, she had a father holding her hand and saying he was happy to walk beside her to the very end.

And so, for the first time, Caella smiled sincerely at her father.

“You both must be happy.”

Pheon felt ashamed before the Duke of Ostein, who sincerely wished happiness both for his daughter and for him.

“Today, we gather here to bless this sacred marriage…”

Once again, Pheon was committing an unforgivable sin against Caella.

The man who had foolishly ruined a sacred marriage once before nearly lost his mind as that marriage began again, and he endured only through sheer force of will.

From the moment they stood here together, Ostein and Lusenford became one body.

He could not waver.

This time, he only needed to remain steady, achieve his goals, and protect Caella properly.

‘No…after protecting her, I have to let her go.’

He kept conveniently forgetting that last part.

He had promised to let her go.

His one and only bride standing beside him was so beautiful and noble that he had no right to keep her.

Yet he kept forgetting that truth too easily.

Now that he was confident he could protect her, an easier thought kept dominating his mind:

Couldn’t he just keep her beside him?

After returning through regression, he had never intended to hide his bastard nature anyway.

Still, before Caella, he needed to maintain some decency.

And he had made a promise.

So he had to keep it.

The wedding held while the Empress remained unconscious was solemn and quiet, dignified even without extravagance.

Pheon, whose only memories of the wedding before regression were irritation, humiliation, and annoyance, desperately hoped Caella wouldn’t feel that way about this one.

“This feels less like a wedding and more like a ceremony praying for Her Majesty’s recovery.”

He heard mocking voices from Northerners known for not fearing the Emperor.

They were ridiculing the Emperor, who only now realized he was aging because of the fear of losing the Empress.

Belatedly, he searched for a Crown Princess candidate for Gregory, whom he had placed on the throne in name only, and before that, he had finally arranged Pheon’s long-overdue marriage.

All of it was merely the Emperor’s one-sided will.

“At least now I can face the Empress with dignity.”

After the wedding, during the long banquet, the Emperor offered that as his congratulatory speech.

That alone said enough.

The Emperor, intoxicated by his own performance of playing the role of “father” and “Emperor,” seemed convinced that doing this much would somehow make the Empress wake up.

“She’ll wake soon, but I worried what would happen if I’d done nothing by then. Yet you two accomplished something important for me. Now I can finally save face.”

From beginning to end, all he had ever given the Empress was violence and abuse.

As if rushing through a superficial imitation of parenthood now would suddenly make her look kindly upon him.

Naturally, Caella merely answered obediently with empty “Yes, Your Majesty” responses like a lifeless doll.

The hastily married couple would stay briefly at the Imperial Palace before departing directly for Lusenford.

The Grand Duke’s responsibilities were too heavy for a separate honeymoon, so the journey north itself would serve as the new bride’s honeymoon.

To Caella, who had already traveled that road once before, it held little interest.

“She’s a delicate child, so I’m worried. Please take good care of her.”

Adeo’s face was full of concern for his daughter as he forced himself to say the inevitable words in this situation.

“I will do my best. I should be the one asking for your trust.”

Pheon bowed sincerely only to Adeo—not to the Emperor.

Yet despite being a groom who had just married, he could not smile even once.

“Be happy.”

Leaving behind the Emperor—the greatest source of all their misery—blessing them with happiness, the newly married couple climbed into their carriage.

The one most exhausted after waking before dawn to prepare, enduring the ceremony from morning until the endless banquet ended, was undoubtedly Caella.

She had changed dresses twice today, changed hairstyles twice, greeted countless guests, and by sunset she was already mentally drained.

Just because she wasn’t nervous didn’t mean she wasn’t tired.

Nor did having a second wedding make weddings familiar.

If anything, this ceremony had been far grander than the first, and honestly she felt even more exhausted because of it.

The carriage door clicked shut.

As the cheers faded behind them and the carriage headed toward the outer palace grounds, silence filled the carriage completely.

Only then did Caella realize what had disappeared from her.

‘Hope.’

A feeling of utter resignation weighed heavily over her.

Hope was gone.

There was nothing left to expect.

Sitting quietly like a beautifully decorated porcelain doll, she entered the residence where the Grand Duke of Lusenford stayed whenever he visited the Imperial Palace.

Though called a detached palace, it was merely one of the grand estates belonging to the Imperial Palace.

Today, the Emperor had declared a two-day holiday in celebration of the Empress’s recovery and his son’s happy marriage.

But unlike the cheers outside, the place where the newlyweds stayed was filled with quiet peace meant for the couple.

Caella didn’t care about peace or anything else.

“Please rest comfortably.”

After washing up her exhausted body and entering the bridal chamber, Caella naturally found herself alone.

Nothing ahead of her was unfamiliar.

She already knew this story.

Pheon would not come into this room tonight.

Even when they had shared the same room before, he had always slept far away on the sofa and never once climbed into the same bed.

“Ah… I’m tired…”

Some people held simple ceremonies when remarrying.

Collapsing face-first onto the wide bed without caring about the dignity expected of a bride, Caella let out a faint laugh.

How had the first night gone again?

Had she cried thinking about her deceased father?

Or placed pointless hopes in her new husband?

Perhaps she had simply tried to stay calm while waiting for the husband who never came.

But now, the only thing she remembered was her father’s joyful smile today.

He had proudly declared that walking beside his daughter at her wedding was naturally a father’s duty.

She had wanted to show him that she was living happily—but in her previous life, there had been no father left to see it.

Today, though, her father had been there.

That alone made this a good day.

That was enough.

After lying there for a while, Caella finally reached that conclusion and slowly began to move.

She crawled awkwardly across the perfectly smooth blanket, fumbled to lift it, then collapsed facedown again.

Even climbing under the blanket felt exhausting.

She was used to spending entire days in heavy dresses and heels as a noble lady, but today’s exhaustion was worse than ever before.

‘I’ll rest just a little…then sleep properly.’

She was trying to gather enough energy just to pull the blanket over herself when—

Click.

The door opened, and someone entered.

“…Asleep?”

The quiet voice wasn’t really asking.

It was confirming.

Why is he coming in?

Still lying facedown, Caella answered flatly.

“No.”

Ah, I should sit up.

Greeting someone while sprawled out like this was rude.

And from now on, she should probably speak formally again too.

But would it really matter if she was a little rude?

Her exhausted mind moved sluggishly.

Or perhaps she simply had no desire to move faster.

“Then why are you lying like that? Are you very tired?”

“I only have enough strength left to move my mouth. No—I mean, I don’t.”

She heard footsteps approaching.

An ordinary noblewoman would probably feel threatened being alone in a bedroom with a huge man like Pheon.

But Caella felt no fear whatsoever.

This man wasn’t the sort to attack women directly like some low-class brute.

Besides, why would he even care enough about her to do anything?

So she merely continued lying there completely sprawled out—until suddenly her body lifted into the air.

Startled, she blinked as Pheon picked her up effortlessly.

After pulling back the blanket, he laid her onto the bed properly, leaving only her feet sticking out.

“Take off your slippers.”

“Huh? Why?”

“You’re climbing onto the bed with shoes on?”

Well, obviously she couldn’t do that.

Blinking blankly, Caella kicked off her slippers with the tips of her feet.

Just as she was about to ask if that satisfied him, she heard him chuckle softly.

Then he pushed her fully beneath the blanket.

He handled her as easily as though she were a light doll or a cat before frowning faintly and striding back toward the bedroom door.

“Is there anyone who knows how to do massage therapy?”

One of the maids waiting outside from the Empress’s palace blinked in surprise.

“I don’t think the young lady—no, the Grand Duchess—will be able to sleep with how swollen her legs and feet are.”

“Ah. I’ll prepare hot water, towels, and massage oil.”

“No, I meant someone who can actually massage properly—”

The older maid smiled knowingly.

Having long worked practical duties within the Empress’s palace, she was already familiar with Pheon.

“It would be best if the groom did it himself for the Grand Duchess.”

The newlywed groom froze awkwardly.

Even the changed title—from “young lady” to “Grand Duchess”—felt strange, and he understood perfectly well what the maid was implying with that smile.

As if everything had already been prepared in advance, the maid quickly brought the supplies.

“Please enjoy your evening.”

What is this?

Caella looked back and forth between the deeply embarrassed Pheon and the firmly closed door.

Her legs really were terribly swollen, but she was already accustomed to falling asleep in pain somewhere in her body.

She had intended to simply bury herself under the blankets and sleep while her husband ignored her completely, as always.

So why did he keep doing things he had never done before?

“I’m just going to slee— mm.”

Caella stopped herself mid-sentence.

After all, today she had signed the marriage papers beside Pheon once again.

That meant she was Grand Duchess again, so perhaps she should return to speaking formally as before.

And honestly, that felt more comfortable.

Speaking casually implied closeness.

But she and Pheon weren’t close.

The moment they married again, he had completely erased the old childhood relationship of older brother and younger sister who once played together.

“I’ll just go to sleep.”

At the return of formal speech, his broad shoulders seemed to twitch slightly.

Well, it probably did sound awkward.

But what could she do?

Now that she was Grand Duchess again, she couldn’t have people saying the Grand Duchess rudely spoke informally to His Grace the Grand Duke.

Remembering how obsessively strict she had once been about etiquette during her previous life as Grand Duchess, she concluded that formal speech was definitely safer.

“Don’t worry about me.”

After saying only that, she completely shut Pheon out and closed her eyes.

“…Very well, then.”

With that hesitant low voice, the room darkened slightly more.

“Sleep well.”

Unexpectedly, he gave her a farewell she had never once heard before.

Instead of replying, Caella merely turned away and trembled faintly beneath the blankets.

For some reason, she had a persistent and ominous feeling that the man she married this time was truly strange.

But for now, she squeezed her eyes shut tightly.

There was no turning back anymore.

Once again, irreversibly, she had to walk the road to death she had already walked before.