Winter Field Chapter 17

He had indeed been told. That the priest would merely pose a few trifling questions and all he needed to do was say ‘yes.’ To have wholly omitted the crucial fact that there was a terrifying ritual of plunging one’s hands into fire. Instead of wasting time prattling on about useless wedding night stories, they could have given him a heads-up about something like this.

The Grand Duke let out a light sigh and then grasped both of Rensley’s wrists. The priest seemed slightly flustered but did not particularly intervene, merely watching them as they were. Unable to bring himself to say “let go,” Rensley called out to him imploringly.

“Your Highness the Grand Duke.”

“Did you not say you would give your full loyalty?”

Rensley’s ears reddened a little. It was a moment that made the memory of just days ago—when he had mimicked a knight, albeit in sleepwear—feel mortifying. He should never have put on that pointless act.

Dry lips drew near enough to nearly brush his warming earlobe. The voice, lowered so that none but Rensley could hear, quietly stole inward.

“Prince Malosen, I do not betray those who trust me.”

Rensley looked back at the silent amber eyes gazing at him from beyond the veil.

‘What am I doing?’

The terror that had momentarily held Rensley in thrall scattered like dust. Grand Duke Gisel was the very man who had gone so far as to say that if he had a lover, he should rather hold secret trysts inside the castle, since running away would put him in danger.

Using the word betrayal might be excessive, but between him and the Grand Duke, the one who had employed deception was unquestionably himself. He had disguised himself as a princess to come here, fallen asleep in the bedchamber prepared for the fiancée, sneaked outside to find a hole to escape through, and when he was on the verge of having his identity discovered, lied that he was an attendant to avert the crisis.

The questions, answers, and vows exchanged in this wedding ceremony mattered little one way or another, but at the very least, he had to be true to the promise made with the Grand Duke.

Rensley nodded. It was a sign that he was ready, but the Grand Duke did not release his wrists. Unchanged, he remained standing close behind Rensley and slowly drew his hands downward.

The blazing flames enveloped both their hands at once. Barely stifling a groan that nearly erupted, Rensley gritted his teeth.

After some time had passed, the priest cleared his throat and once again struck the empty metal cup like a bell.

“Yvette Elvanes, your truthfulness has been proven.”

Rensley, who had been staring down at the fiercely blazing false flames that held neither heat nor cold, felt the strength drain entirely from his whole body. He refrained from hurling curses at himself for having been frightened.

It was utterly devoid of any proving power or anything of the sort—truly a perfect piece of magic for deception. Reverend Priest, I have done nothing but lie this whole time.

“From this moment forth, your once incomplete souls shall become a perfect whole and be bound to one another.”

The priest chanted a new incantation. The fire in the brazier gradually shrank, then transformed into a single thin, long golden rod.

It floated up airily like a dandelion seed, drifting lightly as if fluttering, and approached between Rensley and the Grand Duke… and in an instant, it wound around both their wrists, whirring like a knotted bracelet bound to each other, then vanished as if seeping into their skin.

‘This too must all be magic for show.’

Rensley looked down at his own wrist with coldly sober eyes.

Once the magic ended, the wedding ceremony, too, neared its close. Larkov’s words that Oldenland did not make wedding ceremonies long proved true.

The priest unfurled the marriage covenant. Now it was finally time for the bride and groom to each leave a signature attesting to the validity of this marriage. Gisel Siebendad, holding a quill pen dipped in black ink, left his name in elegant handwriting.

<Gisel Siebendad>

It was Rensley’s turn. Receiving the pen, Rensley imitated Yvette’s handwriting from memory and left his signature.

<Yvette Monte Elvanes>

Even the fake Grand Duchess’s fake covenant looked plausible once ornate paper and a seal were added. The priest closed the thick tome in which the royal family’s successive marriage covenants were bound and commanded gravely.

“Open the gates!”

The gatekeepers opened the gates of the main castle and the choir began to sing. Once the doors were open, the guards and, beyond them, the densely assembled crowd of people came into view.

Accompanied by music somewhat brighter than before, the Grand Duke and Grand Duchess walked toward the castle gate. Unlike the high-ranking guests who had decorously observed the ceremony in the hall, the reaction of the residents outside the main castle was fervent.

Cheers, applause, and the shrill sounds of cheap musical instruments greeted the newly married Grand Ducal couple. Most of the people’s voices were crushed together into a single mass of noise, but a few words survived and leapt up to Rensley’s ears.

—Good heavens, Her Highness the Grand Duchess is truly a beauty!

—Even though she wears a veil, I can tell what a beautiful person she is. At last, Oldenland has Her Highness the Grand Duchess…

—She is dazzling. She is like the legendary goddess Adriel.

Well, now. If one puts on this much makeup and covers the face with a white, semi-translucent veil, it seemed most anyone would look like a beauty.

He was certain that if they randomly selected female residents now looking up at him, bathed them from the morning, combed their hair, applied their makeup, dressed them in expensive gowns, draped them in jewels, and covered them with a veil, they would look far more beautiful than he did.

One of the retainers standing beside Rensley cautiously addressed him.

“Your Highness the Grand Duchess, now that the nuptials have been celebrated, please offer a greeting to the people. They will all be overjoyed.”

He held out a pendant shaped like a small horn. Rensley had seen members of the royal family giving speeches many times, so he knew the use of this object. A magical tool that made one’s voice carry far. Fastening it to his chest, Rensley straightened his shoulders and stood.

Be that as it may, the feeling of being welcomed by people was naturally not a bad one. He had never spoken under the attention of so many people except when bluffing at a tavern, but despite that, Rensley smiled as if it welled up from within, naturally and warmly, as he gave his greeting.

“I had heard only that Oldenland is an exceedingly cold country.”

Before he could even finish speaking, exclamations burst out loudly.

“Goodness, even her voice is beautiful!”

The people’s praises could be heard from every direction. Rensley’s smile grew brighter.

“Thanks to your fervent welcome, I have felt no cold. It seems to me that Oldenland will become the warmest country on the continent.”

The cheers swelled until they seemed to shake the castle walls, and when Rensley waved his hand, they nearly became screams. Faced with this unexpected reception, Rensley too felt like shouting along with them.

‘What’s all this? Everyone absolutely adores the Grand Duchess?’

He was happy even knowing that the welcome was directed not at Rensley Malosen but at Princess Yvette Elvanes. Had he not been wearing the veil, the crowd would have seen Rensley’s eyes sparkling with delight, but because of the veil softly obscuring his face, only a benevolent smile was conveyed—and even that only to those standing in the front rows or those with particularly keen eyesight.

Yet even that alone was enough to cause word to spread like wildfire inside and outside the castle of what a merciful smile the newly arrived Grand Duchess knew how to wear.

The time spent facing the people was not long. The retainers and priests guided the Grand Ducal couple back inside the main castle, and Rensley, though looking back with regret, followed them in.

“Our heartfelt congratulations on your sacred union, Your Highness the Grand Duke, Your Highness the Grand Duchess.”

“Eternal blessings upon the ramparts of Oldenland and Loudkhen!”

Once the ceremony was over, even the dignified noble guests smiled and offered their words. The two returned their congratulations with appropriate politeness and came back to the high table to be seated.

The banquet began at once. The slow and solemn music that had gravely resonated throughout the hall during the wedding ceremony vanished, and the orchestra played one fast-tempoed dance tune after another. Though surely tasteless, abundant and splendid party foods filled the tables to brimming, and wine glasses filled with beer and wine appeared in an endless stream.

The hall quickly grew boisterous. The sound of voices chattering over drinks, the clatter of dishes and glasses colliding, the laughter of people dancing to the music reached the high ceiling. As cloak hems dyed in various colors fluttered and voluminous dresses whirled round and round, the banquet hall seemed as if it had become a great flower garden.

Watching them, Rensley swallowed hard. Hidden within the dress, his feet, of their own accord, tapped the floor in time with the music—tip-tap, tip-tap—matching the beat.

“Let us go up.”