* * *
It seemed both the Countess and Count Valuncio were deeply concerned about this matter.
Embarrassed to bring it up directly, their slightly furrowed brows aimed at some random spot on the floor, as if something significant were lying there.
“We also need time to prepare, so please wait for us. May we leave now?”
“You may.”
As if the situation wasn’t awkward enough, the added tension and heavy atmosphere made it suffocating.
Only then did we finally manage to leave.
After exchanging polite farewells, we exited the room.
“Don’t dwell on what they said at the end.”
“…?”
“Your body is still weak.”
I grabbed hold of Klen’s sleeve as he tried to leave.
He stopped walking and looked down at my hand clutching his garment.
Then, he turned his gaze to meet mine, studying me silently.
The fact that he didn’t immediately ask what was wrong showed his nature clearly.
The hesitation to speak first implied that what I wanted to say was something I wasn’t ready to share with others.
And judging by his calm reaction, he understood that perfectly.
His attentiveness now was markedly different from the indifference he usually displayed.
Meeting his eyes directly, I motioned toward a quieter place with a slight tug on his sleeve.
He followed without resistance.
At first, Klen walked leisurely, but after we left the building, he began to take the lead, half a step ahead of me.
He led me to a secluded garden on the castle grounds, empty at this early hour.
“Is it really alright for us to walk here?”
“For a little while, yes.”
His voice carried genuine concern, though it didn’t feel like he was worried about my health.
It was more like he wanted my reassurance.
Since we’d decided to talk here, I moved further into the garden.
The surrounding area was beautifully maintained, the work of a skilled gardener.
Along the neatly arranged stone path, a faint floral scent wafted in the air.
I hadn’t noticed at first, but as we walked deeper, the white flowers near the entrance gradually transitioned into shades of purple, like a flowing gradient.
Beyond the purple blooms, another set of colors awaited, with their scents growing richer the further we went.
“Ahem. Well.”
I cleared my throat before speaking.
Usually, one does this to steady their voice, but in my case, it was the opposite—I was deliberately softening it, focusing all my effort on producing a frail tone.
“Yes?”
“Earlier, you seemed quite… concerned.”
“Well, now you’re part of our family. Isn’t that reason enough?”
“No, that’s not what I meant…”
He was perceptive at times but oblivious when it mattered most.
Did I really have to spell it out?
This wasn’t acting—I was genuinely stammering before finally managing to speak.
“That… about the consummation…”
“Ah.”
He halted mid-step and turned to face me.
His gaze, tinged with surprise, fixed on me.
Slowly blinking as if carefully considering his words, his tightly closed lips refused to part.
“… ”
After standing silently for a moment, he finally moved.
“Adrian. Did you not know that a marriage isn’t recognized as valid without consummation?”
“…!”
“You didn’t know?”
It felt like a blow to the head, leaving my skull ringing.
I hadn’t forgotten—it had simply been shoved to the back of my mind amidst more pressing matters.
Perhaps I had been deliberately ignoring it, refusing to acknowledge the reality.
The saddest part was that I couldn’t even direct my frustration at the person in front of me.
After all, he had already told me.
The only thing left was to fulfill that obligation.
“Adrian?”
As my dazed mind blurred my vision, a clear gaze suddenly pierced through the haze, pulling me back to reality.
I shook off my thoughts—this wasn’t the time to lose focus.
I needed to assess the situation.
“I-I’m fine. I just felt lightheaded from the strong sunlight.”
“Don’t overexert yourself. It’d be better to keep the walk brief and return.”
“Yes… understood.”
Feigning weakness was essential now, and this was the perfect opportunity.
I intentionally leaned into him as if I needed support, silently conveying that I couldn’t continue the conversation.
When we reached the garden’s entrance, I placed more weight on him than necessary, enough to lift my toes slightly off the ground.
Yet his strides didn’t falter. His steps were firm and purposeful, his expression serious, as if he’d forgotten about my act.
“Here should be fine.”
“Are you sure you’re alright?”
“Yes. You must be busy; I wouldn’t want to take up more of your time.”
He stepped away, took a few strides, then turned back to look at me.
“I’ll send an attendant. Please return with them.”
“I understand.”
Only after confirming my nod did he leave, his steps noticeably heavy.
It couldn’t possibly be because he felt guilty about leaving me when I wasn’t feeling well… could it?
“Whew…”
It was only after his figure completely disappeared from view that I felt like I could breathe again.
Glancing around to ensure no one was watching, I straightened up and walked back on my own.
Acting required breaks too, after all.
If I ran into an attendant along the way, I could simply say I’d rested near the entrance and felt better.
Walking back, I found myself lost in thought.
In this country, marriage didn’t mean everything was final.
Especially in arranged marriages, circumstances could shift, overturning everything.
In extreme cases, if the other family rebelled or faced some calamity, declaring the marriage void to protect one’s kin wasn’t unheard of.
That’s why this system existed.
Unless the couple consummated their marriage, they weren’t truly considered husband and spouse.
Some people did take precautions, while others brazenly denied it, coming to a mutual agreement.
There was magic that could discern the truth, but unless a dispute arose, it wasn’t used—partly to preserve each other’s honor.
Of course, in ordinary circumstances, as long as the two parties’ interests aligned, whether they did or didn’t was of little concern.
‘If it were just an ordinary political marriage, that is.’
The issue was that, in my case, this political marriage was bound by a sacred vow.
Without becoming a true couple, there was a high chance the vow wouldn’t be considered fulfilled.
And my partner was a god.
An existence that couldn’t be deceived, no matter what I did.
That was likely why the count and countess had gone out of their way to summon us and warn us.
They’d taken on the scrutiny of the public and arranged this marriage, so dying a gruesome death for breaking the vow wasn’t an option.
The same applied to my father.
‘…It’s one problem after another.’
Perhaps the discomfort I’d been feeling stemmed from this.
The memory tucked away in the corner of my mind had surfaced, reminding me that nothing was truly over yet.
Even if I were to run away recklessly, setting aside all other issues, one of my brothers might end up marrying Klen in my place.
And an unsuspecting brother could very well be assassinated in an instant.
‘It’s better for me, who knows at least something, to handle it.’
My other brothers were certainly skilled enough to handle crises.
But if even I had been assassinated, it was clear the situation wouldn’t involve simply wielding a sword and charging in.
It might have been an ambush while we were completely off guard, poison, or something entirely different.
But just hearing the word “assassination” didn’t clarify what method was used.
“Are you alright, Master?! Walking all the way here alone?!”
As expected, a servant I encountered along the way ran toward me, pale-faced.
Without even checking my expression, he hurriedly closed the distance between us.
My appearance, frail and staggering under the sun, seemed to have an even greater effect than anticipated.
“I’m fine.”
As I tried to organize my cluttered thoughts, my words came out cold and curt.
* * *
