* * *

“What?”

Hernan, as if doubting his own ears, tried to rise abruptly from his seat but ended up slamming his knee against the coffee table in front of the sofa.

The table wobbled violently, and the teacup and saucer on top nearly crashed to the floor.

Quick to react, I grabbed them with my hand and drained the remaining tea in one go.

“I-I must have misheard something….”

Just moments ago, he had insisted he wouldn’t get married, and now he suddenly suggested we combine rooms.

It was certainly a startling proposal.

‘He only said he wouldn’t get married immediately—not anything else.’

I placed the teacup back on the table, which I had returned to its original position, and responded.

“No, you didn’t mishear. As I said, I’m not an uninhabited island. I’m probably the most vulnerable person in this estate to any attack. Honestly, I’m terrified of dying in my sleep.”

When I started a business, even if my actions seemed reckless to others, I always moved forward only after carefully calculating my odds.

But this was different.

I needed absolute certainty that I wouldn’t wake up to find myself murdered in my sleep before I could move forward.

“Anyway, this arrangement should keep the families dissatisfied with the Yudenet’s reforms at bay. Let’s settle this while we’re at it.”

Hernan’s eyes went round, wide like a startled rabbit.

Meanwhile, I calmly propped my chin on my hand.

“As you know, I’m a very skeptical person. To me, a spouse is more of a business partner. Above all, mutual trust is the most important aspect of such a relationship.”

The reason I brought this up was simple.

“Yet, from the beginning, Your Grace deceived me. Naturally, I can’t help but wonder—what is this person thinking? How much of it is genuine?”

As I continued to speak, effectively summarizing, ‘I don’t trust you at all’, Hernan’s lips parted slightly, as if he wanted to object.

But I wasn’t interested in hearing excuses now, so I shut him down.

“When I’m talking, just listen.”

I didn’t care if he called me a tyrant.

After all, I was the one dragged into this sudden, absurd marriage by abduction.

“I still can’t trust Your Grace. And marrying someone I can’t trust? That’s utterly ridiculous.”

Despite my words, laden with unyielding negativity, Hernan slumped his head, his eyes drooping like a wilted flower.

‘….’

The sight of him looking so pitiful made me wonder if something was fundamentally wrong with me.

“I know all that talk about being a lover or taking responsibility for a one-night stand wasn’t serious. And I’m not naïve enough to fall for such trivial remarks.”

Hernan’s eyes began to glisten with tears, as if he might cry any second.

Honestly, could he let me finish speaking for once?

Clicking my tongue internally, I added,

“So, convince me. Show me why Your Grace should be my spouse. Let’s start there. Sharing a room will give you plenty of opportunities and time.”

After much prodding, Hernan finally lifted his head to look at me, his lashes clumped together with unshed tears.

His appearance wasn’t unsightly or pathetic in the least.

Instead, it glittered like a male idol on TV from a decade ago, dolled up to look as pretty as possible.

‘Annoyingly gorgeous.’

If he stopped doing absurd things, his looks alone were enough to make him an overwhelming presence as a spouse.

“I-I’ll call the servants to arrange everything immediately!”

Flustered by just a few words, Hernan shot to his feet, his face bright red.

Thankfully, I had pulled the table closer to me earlier, so his knees avoided another direct collision.

“No, there’s no rush. I don’t have much to move, and it’s not urgent. Sit back down.”

There was still a mountain of things to discuss.

If calling me an exhausting control freak was necessary, so be it.

It wasn’t like they didn’t already know I was like this.

After coaxing Hernan back into his seat, I smiled and added,

“During the time we spend together, I want to learn more about Hernan—not the Duke of Yudenet.”

This wasn’t about hearing his life story as if he were narrating an autobiography.

It was about learning the small things—what kind of tea he liked, what snacks he paired with it, whether he ate the fruit decorations on a cake first or saved them for last.

Trivial details that, though insignificant, brought a person to mind in the quiet moments of daily life.

Those things couldn’t be learned from a quick briefing but needed time and patience to uncover.

When I smiled at his tense expression, Hernan still looked at me with lingering anxiety as he opened his mouth.

“That…”

Predicting what he was about to say, I grinned and finished for him.

“Yes, it’s a date request.”

One step forward, two steps back—wasn’t that putting me at an unfair disadvantage?

For a moment, I felt indignant, but looking at Hernan, flustered like an overboiled dumpling, he seemed endearing.

Not to mention, ridiculously pretty.

Speechless, Hernan eventually covered his face with the back of his hand and turned away.

“What’s wrong? Don’t like it? Should I take back everything I said and just ask for a bodyguard?”

Teasing him with a knowing smirk, I watched Hernan quickly shake his head.

“No! It’s just… surprising….”

“Is that really something someone who blackmailed me into marriage barely a week after speaking three sentences should say?”

I jabbed, and Hernan mumbled in a voice barely louder than a whisper.

“…I’m sorry.”

His meekly deflated expression was adorable.

Rising from my seat, I leaned over toward Hernan, using a fingertip to lift his chin.

His blue eyes met mine, as clear and piercing as looking into a glacier.

Lightly but firmly pressing, I felt the softness of his lower lip curve gently.

For the first time in ages, I felt at ease—as though this sensation had long been familiar.

---

Since that day, I became a strange guest sharing a bedroom with the Grand Duke.

It was a situation the servants, who had long been accustomed to seeing Hernan flirting with me back and forth, could easily accept, but it did seem rather odd to others.

Furthermore, after the successful debutante ball, the rumors about Ernan, who had been absent, spread quickly, as invitations continued to arrive only for them to be repeatedly rejected.

“Hmm…”

Although it was an imperial territory, Velon, which had maintained a policy of isolation without proper exchange, began to change.

The rumor that Hernan was planning to launch a major reconstruction project centered around the key cities spread, drawing the attention of the entire empire to the frozen northern land.

The young king who began the reforms… or rather, now a young ruler, had such extraordinary beauty that it left people stunned, which naturally drew even more attention.

The ridiculous commotion that followed still made me laugh every time I thought of it.

“Do you know what kind of painting is circulating these days?”

The one who brought the rumors was none other than Anton.

“…?”

As I looked up at Anton, who cleared his throat and seemed to have a lot to say while I was sitting at the desk with Hernan, approving documents, he straightened his neck, ready to speak.

“What painting?”

When I asked Anton what he meant, he grinned so wide it seemed his smile might reach his ears.

“A replica of the portrait of the Empire’s most beautiful person is selling like hotcakes among commoners.”

The Empire’s most beautiful person—a title that wasn’t lightly bestowed.

I knew its owner.

Lady Bella Hekes, the Marquess’s daughter.

Her long, flowing black hair reached her waist, and she had an alluring yet robust appearance.

I hadn’t paid much attention to her, just greeted her in passing at a social gathering.

But why was her portrait suddenly being traded among commoners?

I gave Anton a look that asked why he was even telling us this.

“So?”

Anton, ever the entertainer, answered with a gleeful expression.

“They say the defining features of this beauty are snow-white skin, hair as radiant as molten platinum, and eyes as cold as glaciers. Sound familiar?”

“…?”

Eran shot Anton a glare, as if questioning his sanity.

“And as it happens, when I was casually inspecting the town, I managed to get my hands on a replica of the replica.”

Both Eran and I frowned as Anton pulled out a shoddy piece of paper with a crude drawing hidden behind his back.

“What do you think? Ring any bells?”

The sketch was rough, as though drawn with low-grade graphite, and the water-thinned paint barely hinted at colors.

Despite its poor quality, there was no mistaking who the original was meant to depict.

* * *