On the very day Estelle attempted to take her own life with poison, in the western region—
Crunch!
A man stood atop the crushed head of a monstrous beast as large as a house.
Even though the surrounding area had been reduced to ruins, not a single wrinkle marred his impeccably tailored clothing.
His expression was stern and emotionless.
Not only was there nothing to criticize about him, but he carried an air of such perfection that it seemed he would not allow anyone to so much as touch him.
Lennox Winterren.
His vivid crimson eyes swept across the devastated landscape.
A village that had once been a pleasant place to live was now utterly destroyed.
The valley whose water had once been pure enough to drink had been tainted by demonic energy and turned black. Pools of that same energy stained the earth like stagnant puddles.
There was no longer any sign of life here.
“Duke Winterren! We've confirmed that all monsters in the area have been exterminated!”
At that moment, a voice called out from below. It belonged to Pippin, his adjutant.
Lennox gave a brief nod and lightly leapt down from a height more than five times his own.
“We'll return to the capital.”
“What? Without resting first?”
“There isn't time.”
The firmness of the reply drained the color from Pippin's face.
For three entire days, Duke Winterren had fought monsters without sleeping even once.
And he still doesn't look tired. He's a monster himself.
Clicking his tongue inwardly, Pippin carefully avoided stepping into the demonic energy and relayed the order to the other knights.
“Right now?”
“Yes. It's the Duke's command.”
“Ha! Does he think everyone's a monster like him? We're ordinary humans!”
Some reacted with outrage.
“What can we do? It's not like we were any real help during the extermination.”
Others simply resigned themselves.
Touching demonic energy meant instant death.
Monsters formed from that energy were equally dangerous.
But there was one exception.
The people of House Winterren.
That was precisely why Lennox, the current head of the ducal family, had led this campaign himself.
“Tch. There's a reason people call the Winterrens demons.”
The Winterrens.
They were said to bear the curse of a god.
Lifespans twice as long as ordinary humans.
Superior physical abilities.
Complete immunity to demonic energy.
All of it had been granted through a divine curse, making them little different from demons in the eyes of many.
“Honestly, there's no need to rush back like this.”
Exhausted after three sleepless days, several knights began grumbling.
Then it happened.
Lennox suddenly stopped.
Did he hear us?
Oh no...
The knights instantly fell silent.
But Lennox wasn't looking at them.
His gaze was fixed somewhere within the landscape consumed by demonic energy.
“There is a survivor.”
“What? That's impossible. This entire area is covered in demonic energy. No living creature could possibly—”
The only beings capable of surviving contact with demonic energy were those who carried Winterren blood.
Without bothering to explain, Lennox strode forward through the corrupted ground.
Then he reached into a thick, black pool of demonic energy.
Swoosh.
His hand grasped something and pulled it out.
It was a child.
A tiny child who looked no older than five.
Though covered in demonic residue, there was no mistaking that it was a human child.
“As I thought.”
Haa...
Haa...
The child hung limp and unconscious.
Yet the small, steady breaths proved that life still remained.
Holding the child by the back of the neck, Lennox's lips curled upward ever so slightly.
For some reason, the smile looked almost sinister.
“Your Grace, that child...”
Pippin could not hide his shock.
But the words that followed from Lennox were even more startling.
“I should register this child into my family.”
“...What?”
Did I just hear that correctly?
“W-Wait a moment, Your Grace! If this is because the Imperial Family has been pressuring you about the succession issue lately, then this is far too impulsive!”
A child was not an object.
You couldn't simply pick one up off the street and bring it home as though that settled everything.
Pippin desperately tried to stop him, but Lennox had already made up his mind.
“First, I'll need to find a wife.”
Under Imperial law, a married couple had to remain married for at least one year before they could legally adopt a child.
Which meant that the still-unmarried Duke now required a one-year contract wife.
Estelle wore a white wedding dress that fit her strangely.
A wedding dress that had not even been properly tailored.
A bouquet woven from purple lavender and white baby's breath.
This was my first marriage.
She immediately realized she was dreaming.
Her husband had been an old man whose grandchildren were older than Estelle herself.
Claiming poor health, he had not even attended his own wedding.
For Estelle, it had been her first marriage.
For him, it had been his third.
Naturally, it had held no meaning for him.
"Estelle. Age is merely a number. Among all your suitors, he is the finest husband candidate. Live well with him."
Count Belonsa had said that.
At the time, Estelle was fifteen.
There was no one to oppose the marriage.
It was decided not long after my mother's funeral.
The moment she finished reciting her wedding vows alone, without a groom beside her, the dream shifted.
She was standing just outside the bridal chamber.
The Count said he was a good husband.
It'll be fine.
She had repeated those words to herself countless times.
But it had all been meaningless.
The moment she entered the bridal chamber, she realized it was not fine at all.
"Another... young and beautiful bride."
The moment her husband spoke, he smelled of death.
He resembled a withered tree more than a living person.
"N-No! I don't want this!"
Facing his shriveled face, Estelle wished with all her heart.
She wished that this marriage had never happened.
And her wish came true in a way she could never have expected.
“No...!”
Estelle opened her eyes.
She had awakened from the horrific nightmare.
Had a knock not sounded at that very moment, she might not have escaped the lingering terror so easily.
Knock. Knock.
“Lady Estelle, you should begin preparing for the banquet.”
Right.
Today was the day of the Imperial banquet.
Remembering that fact, Estelle hurriedly wiped the dampness from around her eyes.
Yet no matter how much she wiped, it felt as though tears still remained.
I hope my eyes aren't swollen.
She needed to be the most beautiful woman there today.
“Come in.”
At her command, the maids poured into the room.
They washed her as carefully as if she were a bride preparing for her wedding.
Normally, such treatment would have been unimaginable.
But she would be appearing before many people tonight, and they could not allow her to look like the neglected disgrace of House Belonsa.
The greatest beauty in the Empire.
She had to live up to the rumors that circulated throughout high society.
Immersed in rose-scented bathwater, Estelle didn't need to lift a finger.
Yet somehow that only made her more uncomfortable.
Whether I die within a year as fate dictates or somehow survive, this will probably be the last time I prepare for a marriage.
After her bath, she dried herself, changed clothes, and sat before the vanity.
Then she looked into the mirror.
Long, luxuriant pink hair.
Brilliant golden eyes.
Men who had seen her even once often compared her beauty to flowers blooming in spring.
But the woman reflected in the mirror looked nothing like spring.
She seemed dry and lifeless, like winter itself.
Perhaps it was the exhaustion in her expression.
Or perhaps it was the strange anxiety lingering in her eyes.
Cough. Cough.
She had been adjusting her hair when a sudden fit of coughing escaped her.
Startled, Estelle covered her mouth.
Then she froze.
A red stain remained on her palm.
Blood?
Lowering her hand, she saw in the mirror that blood had stained the corner of her lips as well.
“Miss!”
The maids cried out in alarm.
They hurriedly fetched handkerchiefs.
“I'm just not feeling well today. It's nothing serious, so don't tell the Count.”
If word reached him now, he might forbid her from attending the banquet.
“If we wipe away the blood, my makeup won't be a problem, right?”
“Yes... but...”
After casually cleaning her hand with a handkerchief, Estelle grabbed a handful of jewelry from the vanity.
“Nothing is wrong.”
“...Understood, Miss.”
Only after receiving the jewelry did the maids nod.
They quickly cleaned the blood from her lips and resumed their work.
“It is finished.”
Powder and cosmetics brought color back to her pale face.
The gloom in her eyes remained unchanged, but no one would notice it while staring at her dazzling beauty.
The preparations that had begun before dawn finally ended around sunset.
Estelle straightened her wavering posture and forced herself to stand upright.
She had always been frail.
But after attempting suicide by poison, her condition had deteriorated to the point where collapsing at any moment would not have been surprising.
Even slight movement exhausted her far more than before.
And coughing up blood was surely not just a symptom of poor health.
Closing her eyes tightly, Estelle recalled a line spoken by Vera in the novel.
"Oh, my sister? She... died from an incurable illness."
If her guess was correct, she had about one year left.
She was a terminal patient with little time remaining.
Pressed by the ticking clock, Estelle hurried toward the carriage that would take her to the Imperial Palace.
Then she suddenly stopped.
A man was waiting for her.