* * *

Among the invited guests, Hernan was, without question, the most notable figure. In the lead-up to major parties, nobles often went on a shopping spree for new clothes, jewelry, and other luxuries.

The shop we had commissioned for our outfits was one of the most famous boutiques in the capital.

Considering how many noble households the tailor had visited, it was safe to assume word had spread far and wide.

‘That renowned duke—who is a complete enigma—having his clothes tailored there? They must have boasted about it to everyone they knew, down to their distant relatives. Surely, their clients would have asked questions.’

Questions like, “Is he really as stunning as the rumors claim?” or “Do you know why he’s still unmarried at his age?” would have been flying around.

Typically, high-ranking nobles were engaged in their teens and married as soon as they came of age.

I, too, had faced similar scrutiny as a designated heir who remained unmarried well past the typical age.

In my teens, there had been countless discussions about potential engagements, all of which I had personally vetoed.

My standards were one reason—the prospective fiancées were too young for my comfort.

But more importantly, I wanted to focus on expanding Paradise Resort rather than starting a family.

‘People even joked about me marrying the resort itself…’

Honestly, I wouldn’t mind if that were possible.

But as a noble, passing on the family’s wealth and power to the next generation was a duty.

I couldn’t take it all to the grave, so why did I need children?

From a modern perspective, where singlehood isn’t a flaw, the obsession didn’t make sense.

But in this conservative era, there was no escaping it.

If worse came to worst, I could adopt one of my cousin Berta’s children as my heir.

That is, if she ever came back from wherever she had disappeared to.

‘…….’

The thought of Berta, who had vanished without a trace, gave me a headache.

After betraying us so grandly, expecting anything from her was ridiculous.

Any hope that she might settle down and produce an heir for me had long since gone up in flames.

For young, unmarried noblemen, marriage was an inescapable fate.

While second or third sons could escape the burden of inheritance, heirs couldn’t.

If they were also without a betrothed, they became prime targets for families with eligible daughters.

‘This time, though, it won’t be me—it’ll be Hernan.’

It wasn’t surprising that the original Hernan had spread grim rumors about himself.

The desperation of nobles hungry for power was horrifying.

As previously noted, imperial law followed a strict primogeniture system.

While women could inherit titles, barring exceptional circumstances, the firstborn son—or alpha—was the default successor.

For younger siblings without inheritance prospects, the only way to gain power was through marriage.

A noble couple, bound by the contract of marriage, shared their authority regardless of personal affection.

Thus, families with no other options desperately sought to marry their children—be they sons or daughters—into influential families.

Alphas were preferred as heirs, while omegas were often exploited as tools for political alliances.

‘Although, if the omega stands to gain from their partner, it’s not entirely accurate to call them tools.’

This was why Berta was once considered the ideal political match for Hernan.

As a troublemaker of the Everdeen family, her maternal relatives were so weak that they might as well not exist.

Without external interference, she seemed a perfect fit for a cold-hearted war fanatic uninterested in power games.

‘…Though I have no idea how it ended up like this.’

At any rate, the key point was simple: the star of tonight’s event wasn’t going to be refused by the princess.

Evelyn was a member of the imperial family and an unusual case of reaching adulthood without an engagement.

Apparently, she had insisted she would only marry someone she truly loved, despite being far removed from the line of succession.

Coddled and cherished by the emperor, Evelyn had grown up indulged in every whim.

So, naturally, she wasn’t going to be indifferent to someone as striking as Hernan.

In the worst-case scenario, she might even demand to marry him.

While this seemed far-fetched, one couldn’t discount the possibility.

A string of disappointing suitors could make someone as breathtaking as Hernan seem like a dream come true.

Many had already been captivated by his looks, but their lower status posed no real threat.

Royalty, however, was a different story.

Evelyn couldn’t force marriage upon him, but as the emperor’s favorite, she could make things difficult.

And if she asked for Hernan’s hand as her coming-of-age gift, the emperor might well agree.

Velon, the empire’s sole autonomous territory, could be better assimilated through such a union.

Thankfully, Hernan wasn’t obligated to comply.

However, refusing a royal could invite repercussions severe enough to make compliance seem like the safer option.

‘Wait a second…’

I briefly fell into deep thought before snapping out of it.

“Wouldn’t it actually be a good thing for me if Hernan ended up as the imperial son-in-law?”

From my perspective, where Hernan was pressuring me to marry him, it seemed better for him to end up marrying into a more prominent family.

Just two months ago, I had even been reaching out to others, trying to find a match for him myself.

If the other side wanted Hernan, wouldn’t that be a huge win for me?

But as soon as I came to that conclusion, my heart sank with a thud.

Hernan, walking down the aisle with a young and beautiful princess by his side… Hernan, receiving the Pope’s blessing amidst applause for being part of a perfect couple… Hernan, standing next to someone else, blushing as he exchanged rings.

My heart started pounding with a sudden wave of anxiety.

The next moment, I could feel the veins on my forehead throbbing.

“This is strange… It’s exactly what I wanted. So why am I getting angry?”

For someone who acted like he couldn’t live without me to dare—dare!

The word felt absurd even as I thought it, but imagining Hernan looking happy and laughing with someone else filled me with rage.

It wasn’t sadness or disappointment, those shy and feeble emotions.

No, I felt like throwing him off the bell tower where the wedding would be held.

“…….”

Hernan paused mid-sentence, looking at me with a confused yet composed expression as if to ask what was wrong.

“He’s so annoying.”

With that thought, I stomped on Hernan’s foot with more force than I’d used earlier.

“?????”

Hernan looked flabbergasted and asked, “Why are you stepping on my foot all of a sudden?”

Feeling like explaining myself would just make me lose face, I mumbled nonsense.

“It just… pisses me off all of a sudden. So here’s another stomp for good measure.”

Then I stomped on his foot again, harder this time.

“?????”

This time, it must have really hurt because Hernan reflexively bent over in pain.

I continued talking over his bewildered head.

“Anyway, the princess might accept the dance proposal, so keep that in mind. Other than that, what’s also possible…”

This system, supposedly designed to support those with less say in the marriage market, felt utterly impractical.

“Unmarried men and women of age are given items at the entrance—men receive a handkerchief, and women, a flower bouquet.”

The items themselves weren’t special, just simple trinkets—a few small flowers tied together to make a bouquet.

The use?

“It’s important that you, Grand Duke, avoid receiving a flower bouquet.”

Here’s how it worked: a single woman could give her bouquet to an unmarried man holding a handkerchief as a formal proposal for a date.

And of course, there was a catch.

* * *