7. Marry me

“I am narrow-minded. Do you see any reason why I should remain loyal to this household?”  

The Grand Duke looked at me with bloodshot eyes. At my worn-out room, at the space devoid of any proper decorations, and at the woman who stood within it, her eyes burning with vengeance.  

Each time his gaze wavered, a thrilling sensation blossomed in my chest.  

Yes, perhaps, just maybe. Could the woman standing before him be different from the other members of the Marquis Poche household?  

Consider that possibility. Be deceived by it, Darius.  

As the kind-hearted male protagonist who never gives up hope in humanity, show me your idealistic side.  

“You are…”  

“Annette Poche was a meaningless person in the Poche household.”  

I spoke firmly.  

“But now, I’ve been given a chance to start anew, and I have no intention of letting it slip away.”  

Of course, that chance referred to my life as the wife of the Grand Duke of Inkheart.  

“I will dedicate everything I have to live this new life. For Inkheart. So, Your Highness, I ask you to give me one thing in return: your favor.”  

As long as the male lead didn’t abandon me in a remote castle and let me die as in the original story, I had a chance to live a new life.  

“If you wish, you can divorce me after a few years of marriage. Truly, I am willing to do anything to escape this wretched Poche household and start anew.”  

To prepare for any unforeseen circumstances, I made sure to emphasize that I would never interfere with the heroine who might appear in the future.  

I approached him with a candle in hand. In the dark night, only the small flame quietly illuminated the two of us.  

“So, why not take a chance and trust me?”  

I was shorter than him. I stood beneath his chin.  

Clang, thud, thud.  

The sound of metal hitting the ground echoed heavily. The male lead, Darius, finally removed that wretched silver mask.  

“A pleasure to meet you, Grand Duke.”  

Black hair, and equally black eyes. Features so striking that once seen, they were impossible to forget.  

The black eyes, which had always held a cold expression, now found their warmth and met my gaze. As if to say he was finally letting me step across the line he had drawn.  

This was a face that the original Annette Poche had never seen in her lifetime.  

My heart pounded loudly. Was it because he was so handsome? No.  

“Just for this moment alone, I do not regret becoming Your Highness’s wife.”  

Finally, I had changed the original story. Even if it was just a small fragment, the original had begun to shift.  

In the original, Annette had never once seen the Grand Duke’s face. But I had seen his true face.  

“And I swear, Your Highness will not regret marrying me either.”  

As an extra, I would be a good wife. I would help the male lead prosper the North, and when the heroine appeared, I would part ways cleanly. Then, with the wealth I had accumulated, I would start my new life. And that beginning had just started now.  

* * *  

He had no intention of even showing his face to a woman from the Poche family. This marriage was a political arrangement. The South would gain the honor of marrying into the Grand Duke’s family, and the North would receive the resources it lacked. It was meant to be nothing more than an emotionless transaction.  

Despite the blatant hostility he had shown during their first dinner together, Annette Poche approached him without hesitation and proposed a deal.  

Darius looked at the silver mask he had removed himself, disbelief evident in his eyes.  

〈Now I can at least see the face of the man I’m marrying.〉  

Annette Poche was always confident. Every report describing her had been a lie. She never hesitated, and she faced the abuse directed at her with resilience.  

〈I am narrow-minded. Do you see any reason why I should remain loyal to this household?〉  

The eyes of Annette Poche sparkled as she spoke. She was a Southern woman, braver than any Northern woman.  

‘How strange. When I first arrived, the Southern air was sticky and unbearably irritating.’  

But now, the Southern air he faced with his bare face no longer felt repulsive. Instead, it felt refreshing.  

“Annette Poche.”  

The woman responded to the short utterance of her name. It felt strange.  

Something was changing. And at the beginning of that change was this woman.  

The woman who said she would become his wife and a true member of the North.  

“Ah, of course, I’m not proposing marriage in a romantic sense. I have no greed for the power and honor of being the Grand Duchess. This is an alliance—yes, I am formally proposing an alliance to Your Highness in the name of marriage. …That’s right, isn’t it? Isn’t this how people usually say it?”  

“What did you say?”  

“Forget the last part. I was just nervous. Who would’ve thought I’d end up saying something I only read about in books?”  

It was a logical proposal, even if the ending was strange.  

Perhaps thinking he wouldn’t believe her, Annette repeatedly emphasized that this marriage was purely formal. She even said it wouldn’t matter if they divorced once her and the North’s situations stabilized.  

Annette Poche was not an ordinary woman. She spoke of divorce while preparing for marriage. She approached him with familiarity, as if they had known each other for years, even though it was their first meeting.  

Did all young ladies who grew up neglected in wealthy families develop this kind of personality?  

No. Only Annette could be like this.  

For a moment, Darius felt an inexplicable, strange certainty. If he married Annette Poche, their marriage might become something more than just a typical political union.  

‘I’ll have to retract what I said to Daniel.’  

He had sternly warned Daniel, who had defended Annette, not to let the gentle Southern air cloud his judgment.  

It was he who had judged her rashly.  

“If you are willing to risk everything, I will also do my best.”  

He wanted to give her a chance. Just one chance to trust her.  

The possibility that Annette Poche could truly be someone who would help him. He mocked himself for placing his hopes on such a gamble.  

“But if those words are a lie, be prepared to take responsibility.”  

“Of course. You can take my life if you wish, and I will not resent you.”  

“You speak of death so easily. Is it because you’ve never experienced it?”  

Indeed, she must be a Southern woman, boasting without knowing how painful death truly is.  

“…Of course, no living person has experienced death.”  

For a moment, the woman seemed to smile. Even though it couldn’t be possible.  

“I make this promise while thinking of the most painful thing I can imagine. As long as our marriage lasts, I will remain loyal and faithful to Your Highness.”  

Annette’s fiercely shining blue eyes clashed with Darius’s black eyes, as if sparks were flying between them.  

“As long as you do so, I will do the same.”  

If she turned her back on the Poche family and devoted herself to the North, Darius would protect and defend her.  

Not as a wife in name only, but as a partner, he would respect and cherish her.  

But if her words turned out to be mere sweet talk meant to deceive him, he was prepared to ensure Annette Poche experienced enough suffering.  

The North was not kind, but it was united. And it never forgave betrayal.  

There was no kiss of oath. No embrace, not even a simple handshake. But both of them knew that in this moment, they had placed their trust in each other and made a promise.  

* * *  

After a few formal meetings between the families, the marriage between the Grand Duke and me was finalized, and we officially became husband and wife. However, there was no grand wedding. All that was required was signing a marriage contract filled with dense terms and conditions.  

“The wedding can be held in the North.”  

The Marchioness expressed her unwillingness to even hold a wedding for her neglected daughter in this way.  

“With this, our family can finally have its name inscribed on the Golden Plate.”  

The Marquis stroked his goatee with satisfaction.  

A family inscribed on the Golden Plate. This referred to noble families with the most precious bloodlines among the many aristocrats.  

No matter how wealthy or expansive a territory a rising noble family might possess, or even if they were an ancient high-ranking noble family, they could not easily have their name inscribed on the Golden Plate.  

Only families with blood ties to the imperial family or the Grand Duke’s family were recognized as noble enough to be called a “family inscribed on the Golden Plate.”  

And only families inscribed on the Golden Plate could form marital ties with the imperial family.  

The current Crown Prince was unmarried.  

〈Soon, there will be a selection for the Crown Princess. We must elevate our family’s status by then.〉  

The Marquis and Marchioness firmly believed that if their family qualified, their beloved daughter Caitlyn would undoubtedly become the Crown Princess.  

For that reason, they married Darius and Annette, offering an enormous amount of cotton and food that could sustain the entire North for three years as part of the arrangement.  

‘If she becomes the Crown Princess, it’ll truly be the end of the world.’  

I could see right through the Marquis and Marchioness’s intentions, but I didn’t bother to show it. Caitlyn as the Crown Princess? Well, dreams are free, so they might as well dream big.  

Though there was no wedding, the dowry was extravagant. On the day I departed for the North, wagons filled with wheat and cotton followed behind me. This was only a fraction for show; much more food and cotton were scheduled to be sent to the North after the marriage.  

“Annette, congratulations on your marriage.”  

Caitlyn, who had come to see me off, embraced me as if we were affectionate sisters. At the end of the warm embrace, sharp malice was whispered into my ear like a dagger.  

“A dark, desolate land where only monsters appear—how fitting for you. Don’t even think about coming back from that backwater.”  

“Is your hair growing back well? Up close, it still looks a bit sparse, so I’m worried.”  

If I had pulled it all out, she could’ve just covered the bald spots with a wig. Caitlyn’s face instantly turned pale, as though that had been her greatest fear all along.

That’s right, where could you find someone who doesn’t even compare, yet dares to pick a fight?