Unlike me—frozen stiff along with the oppressive atmosphere of the throne room—Callius moved with leisurely confidence, as if he existed in a different space entirely.
It was as if he had no eyes to see the nobles' contemptuous stares, no ears to hear their whispered mockery.
Does he want to provoke my father?
If that was his goal, then it had been a resounding success.
Color rose in my father's normally impassive face—a sure sign of displeasure.
Besides, the expressions on his subordinates' faces are so hostile that it's hard to believe they came here willingly...
Even accounting for the possibility that northern culture and temperament might differ greatly from southern customs, those were clearly not welcoming expressions.
I feel like I'm about to burst from the tension.
Did Callius truly not notice the murderous glares his own men were directing at me from behind his back?
The Arrental nobles frowned and whispered among themselves, eyeing both Callius's brazen words and the menacing expressions of his subordinates with equal disdain.
"How incredibly arrogant."
"Don't those barbarians even know how to show proper respect?"
"In a situation where we can barely stomach this disgraceful marriage...!"
I was amazed by their hypocrisy.
Even if the Princess is nothing more than a clown they laugh at, apparently it still feels like a waste to give her to the people of Ronheim.
At that moment, before my father could voice his displeasure, Kavala smoothly intervened to redirect the conversation.
"Marquis Rodrian, I am delighted that your people seem to be showing such favor toward our lovely Princess Chloe."
Her shamelessness rivaled Callius's audacity.
Knowing full well that Kavala was orchestrating this marriage specifically to eliminate Callius, her fake smile reminded me of a viper preparing to devour its prey.
"Now that everyone has arrived, shall we proceed with the formalities?"
She spoke loudly, addressing the assembled nobles as if eager to conclude the ceremony quickly.
"I would like all of you gathered here to witness the engagement between Princess Chloe and Marquis Rodrian."
Then she turned her gaze to me.
"Chloe, declare before these witnesses: Do you consent, of your own free will, to this engagement with Marquis Rodrian?"
I glanced at Callius and nodded.
"Yes. I agree."
I had intended to speak confidently, but my voice came out as barely more than a mumble—lacking all conviction.
The throne room was too vast, too crowded. My voice control failed me completely.
When Callius's subordinates heard my answer, they reacted with strange agitation.
What's wrong with them?
But Kavala immediately posed the same question to Callius, so I had no time to dwell on the knights' odd behavior.
"Marquis Rodrian, if you consent to this engagement freely and of your own will, declare it before the witnesses."
One word of agreement would have been enough.
At last.
Growing impatient, I shot Callius a meaningful look.
But his movements remained unhurried—deliberately slow.
He turned toward me.
Then, slowly and deliberately, he lowered himself to one knee before me.
"...?"
He took my hand with exquisite politeness—his touch both gentle and reverent.
Those enchanting golden eyes seemed to capture every cell of my being, holding me captive in their gaze.
He kept his eyes fixed on mine as he slowly brought the back of my hand to his lips.
Soft lips pressed against my skin.
A small sound—barely more than a whisper—tickled my ears and made every hair on my body stand on end.
It was clearly just a soft touch of flesh that came and went in an instant. And yet, for some inexplicable reason, the back of my hand felt scorching hot—as if it had been branded with a heated iron.
The sensation was so unfamiliar that I squeezed my eyes shut, then opened them again.
He spoke with deliberate force, enunciating each syllable with care.
"Chloe Idelian. I offer my last breath to you."
Those enchanting golden eyes—framed by long lashes and delicate features—stared directly at me.
Somehow, I felt breathless.
I couldn't meet his gaze at all.
Why is he speaking so grandly about what's supposed to be a contract marriage?
A single word of agreement would have sufficed.
Even if it was just a meaningless declaration made for the sake of appearance, it was difficult to accept such an intense confession.
But since I couldn't refuse, I avoided eye contact and pushed his vow away from my conscience.
Maybe that's just the way he normally talks.
I remembered the contents of the letter he had sent me not long ago—sentences that had felt so exaggerated and theatrical that they'd seemed almost ridiculous.
But his firm gaze, his warm body heat, and his deep voice as he looked up at me added weight and depth to those grandiose words.
They were no longer a string of absurd platitudes, but had transformed into a heartfelt confession.
Thump.
My chest felt tighter than it ever had before.
Startled, I pulled my hand from his grasp and pressed it against my racing heart.
I need to get back to my chambers quickly... and rest.
Perhaps it was because I was so nervous. My breathing came in rapid gasps, and my face felt feverishly hot. I wondered if I was falling ill.
As I pulled my hand away from him, he rose from where he had been kneeling—and his towering shadow enveloped me completely.
I thought he would turn away now.
But instead, he remained where he was. His hand reached out and touched my cheek.
What... what is he doing?
In that moment of bewilderment, I felt the small scab on my cheek—hidden beneath thick layers of makeup—brush against his fingertips.
The scab had formed over the wound from when the vase shattered a few days ago. It hadn't yet fallen off.
He was touching that tiny injury—though I couldn't fathom how he'd even found it beneath all the cosmetics.
Then he whispered in a voice so low that only I could hear:
"No matter how fierce the snowstorm, it will eventually stop."
"...!"
My eyes widened as I stared at him.
"The snowstorm is bound to stop."
Those were the exact words Karl would say whenever he was encouraging me or offering comfort.
Callius's face overlapped with Karl's in my mind—as if they were one and the same person.
It's really... really strange.
Should I call it amazing? Unsettling?
I had thought they merely resembled each other physically, but now even the way they spoke was eerily similar.
Callius seemed to be trying far too hard to appear friendly.
I shook my head, wary of where that line of thinking might lead.
It must be a coincidence. It's just a bit odd, that's all. That person isn't Karl, Chloe. Get a grip.
I looked toward Kavala, silently willing her to conclude the engagement ceremony as quickly as possible.
But for some reason, Kavala stood perfectly still—staring at the two of us.
Looking around, I realized it wasn't just Kavala. Nearly everyone in the throne room was frozen in place, watching us. I was utterly confused.
Why are they all like this?
Kavala belatedly became aware of my questioning gaze and smoothly redirected the atmosphere in the room like water flowing downstream.
"His Majesty the Emperor and I, in the presence of all assembled witnesses, gladly consent to the marriage of Princess Chloe and Marquis Rodrian."
Ceremonial applause erupted here and there throughout the hall.
At the same moment, in a secluded corner of the throne room, a cluster of young noble ladies stood among their peers—biting their lips in tense silence.
These were the same women who had been reacting dramatically to Chloe and Callius's every gesture moments before, chattering endlessly with their cherry-colored lips.
They had constantly critiqued Chloe's dress, mocked her hair, and jeered at Callius's supposedly crude manners.
But at some point, they had all fallen silent.
It happened the moment Callius knelt before Chloe.
In truth, they weren't the only ones who had frozen at that instant. Kavala and the other nobles had also been momentarily stunned by Callius's theatrical gesture.
However, among all the witnesses, the emotional shift in these young women was the fastest—and the most profound.
What...?
Though they didn't voice their thoughts aloud, they all shared similar internal reactions.
Could it be that I'm... attracted to that savage?
When Callius politely kissed the back of Chloe's hand, the ladies were involuntarily moved—against all their expectations.
From that moment on, Callius was no longer perceived as a "crude, beastly barbarian," but as a person.
And once they recognized him as such, their vision—which had been clouded by prejudice—suddenly cleared.
In that brightened perspective, Callius's strikingly handsome face, his well-proportioned and powerful physique, and his restrained yet courtly demeanor became impossible to ignore.
All the negative context surrounding him no longer seemed to matter.
The young women who watched him kiss Chloe's hand swallowed hard—several times—without even realizing they were doing it.
It had been just a simple hand kiss, yet there was an undeniable intensity in his gesture that made them feel strangely exhilarated just by witnessing it.
Moments before, they had been giggling and placing bets on whether Chloe would collapse from fear of Callius.
But now they had completely forgotten they'd ever made such a wager.
Why... does he look so captivating?
The hearts of the noble ladies swayed like reeds in the wind.
It was the moment when a new, secret idol was born in their hearts—one they could never confess to anyone.
Callius—completely unaware that he had set the hearts of countless young women ablaze—left the throne room shortly afterward and mounted his horse.
His expression had been hard and unreadable ever since he'd turned away from Chloe.
"..."
He stared at the fingertips that had brushed against her cheek.
It was a sharp, cold gaze—analytical and troubled.
What was that?
At first, he had simply noticed the wound on her cheek and touched it instinctively.
This fragile woman—who looks like she might shatter at the slightest impact—is bleeding.
Why? Who did this? How?
Callius had also heard the rumor that Chloe had smashed the vase he'd sent her.
But he couldn't connect that incident with her injury.
Instead, he suspected that Chloe had suffered some untold ordeal within the palace walls.
There must have been a reason the vase was broken.
I need to get her out of this wretched place as soon as possible.
Impatience surged through him.
But beyond that concern, the moment his hand had touched her wound, he had sensed something deeply unsettling—an eerie aura of unknown origin.
That wasn't Chloe's natural energy.
There was something malevolent lurking inside her—something that was slowly gnawing away at her life force.
The blood of a living being contains vast amounts of information related to its vitality. Even when hardened into a scab, there were still traces to be read.
Callius possessed a rare ability to discern the information contained within blood—a gift he had inherited from his mother.
I don't know what it is, but it feels ominous.
Was it a curse?
Had someone placed a curse on her?
He decided it would be best to bring her to Ronheim immediately and have her examined by a competent sorcerer.
At first, he had worried that the harsh cold of Ronheim might be harmful to Chloe's delicate constitution.
But now he thought differently.
The suffocating dampness of the South was undoubtedly a far more fatal poison to her than the clean cold of the North.
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