16.
In the three days leading up to the wedding, Marigold’s mood seemed to swing between heaven and hell.
“Young Master is marrying the Count of the Palace’s daughter?”
“Hmph, unbelievable.”
“He acted like he wasn’t interested in women at all, but couldn’t resist one of the three great beauties of the Empire.”
“I wouldn’t be able to resist either. How could anyone resist one of the Three Great Beauties? I’m dying to know how he managed to win her over.”
The people gathered in the mercenary guild reacted with surprise, and for some reason, they kept glancing at Marigold.
“Mary must be very heartbroken.”
“She’s been acting strange since this morning…”
Marigold heard their whispers as clearly as if they were shouting.
She strode toward the gossiping group, her footsteps heavy.
“Aren’t you working? Do you think the Mercenary Guild is some kind of inn or tavern?”
“D-did you hear that?”
“Hear what? Anyway, if you keep slacking off, I’m telling the Master.”
“B-but there’s no work to do!”
Marigold’s hand reached for her scabbard.
“N-no, I should probably get going.”
“W-wait, let’s go together!”
This had happened several times that day.
She didn’t understand why people were suddenly so aware of her since the Master’s marriage announcement. But one thing was certain: it was grating on Marigold’s nerves like nothing else.
“You’ll find someone nice, Miss Mary. Or… how about me?”
“No thanks.”
Even the number of people flirting and throwing themselves at her with cheesy pick-up lines had increased.
* * *
The day before the wedding was fast approaching.
“Mary, don’t take any commissions today. Come with me.”
“Huh?”
“We’re going to buy you a new dress.”
“But I already have plenty of clothes.”
“You need something presentable to enter the Imperial Palace. Remember, I said we’d go in together.”
For reasons unknown, Lancel insisted on bringing Mary to the wedding at the Imperial Palace. As a result, Mary spent the entire day being fitted for a dress at a high-end boutique.
“Beautiful. It suits you perfectly.”
“Even the Crown Prince will be smitten.”
Lancel’s endless compliments made Mary feel like she was floating on air.
“Well, well, who do we have here! Isn’t that the Chamberlain’s son-in-law? Sir Lancel! How on earth did you manage to win over one of the Empire’s three great beauties?”
“You never know what to expect. I thought he was just some eccentric young man when he started that Mercenary Guild, but as it turns out…”
Whenever Lancel overheard the nobles of the Imperial Capital who had recognized him on the streets, his body would stiffen.
“Lancel Dante is marrying Lady Iceford!”
In the Imperial Capital of Rodnis, where rumors about romantic affairs spread with astonishing speed, the news had already become widespread within days. Similar tidbits of gossip could be heard everywhere he went.
“So, what about an heir? Are you planning to start a family right away?”
“Hmm, I haven’t really thought that far ahead yet. There’s no rush, is there?”
“Oh, come on! Why be coy with friends?”
“What do you mean?”
“This, of course! Have you already… you know?”
Marigold’s clumsy movements drew laughter from the watching nobles.
“Hahaha!”
“Hehehehe!”
Crack.
A crack appeared in the wooden cup Marigold held.
Marriage, children, a harmonious family…
“Ggrrr!”
She tore savagely at the hard bread.
Something was wrong. Marigold felt as if a smoldering ember had taken root in the center of her chest.
Whenever she heard talks of marriage, Lady Iceford, or the three great beauties of the Empire, a gust of wind seemed to fan the flames within her, as if someone were working a bellows.
The heat rising from her body confirmed it.
“Mary, you’re spilling as much food as you’re eating.”
“The bread! It’s too hard! I can’t help it! Ggrrr!”
“Tear it apart with your hands. That’s an expensive dress.”
But when Lancel Dante approached, the fire would quiet down again.
Marigold had repeated this cycle throughout the day.
“Do you… do you like him?” Pina asked before they went to sleep that night.
“Huh?”
“Sir Lancel.”
“Like him? Me? Master?”
“Yes. Do you like him?”
“I… I suppose I do.”
“Not like that. Do you like him as a woman? Like wanting to kiss him?”
“Wh-wh-what…” Marigold stammered.
Lancel Dante. The man who had appeared in her dreams long ago, as her husband in a past life.
Whenever Marigold first saw him, she felt something akin to nostalgia, like when she thought of her mother, whom she had lost as a child.
When Marigold held him close, memories of that time would resurface, and she often found herself reluctant to let go. That much was certain. But was this truly love? Marigold wasn’t sure what to make of these feelings.
“I…”
What kind of person was he?
Why had he appeared in her dreams?
Why did she keep gravitating toward him?
If there were a god, these were the questions she wanted to ask.
Yes.
A god.
.
.
.
“Oh, gods!!!”
Marigold felt her frustration building as she watched the woman wailing loud enough to shake the heavens.
Lancel Dante simply covered his ears.
“What should we do?”
“You have to understand. She’s my daughter, but once she loses her composure, she becomes like this.”
Even the Count of the Palace, who had rushed over upon hearing the news, clutched his head in despair.
“Regardless, we must hold the ceremony within two hours. It’s too late to postpone now, with so many guests gathered.”
“Tsk. What a headache.”
Various proposals flowed quickly:
Try to calm her down and persuade her to go.
Gag her.
Knock her unconscious and drag her there.
Use magic to control her.
But all were rejected.
“My betrothed should be a prince… sob…”
A cold chill appeared in Marigold’s eyes.
“Your eyes look terrifying, Mary.”
“Her behaviour is typical of pampered noble ladies, Master.”
“Don’t forget the very person who spoiled her is standing right here listening, do you?”
“I’m fine with it. It’s the truth, after all.”
Count Iceford readily admitted it. Even he seemed to acknowledge that his daughter was a handful.
“But, Young Master, something occurred to me while I was looking at the bridal gown,” Hesti said, breaking the silence.
She held up the veil the bride would wear over her face. “So, the nobles of the Imperial Capital just throw this over their heads and proceed with the ceremony, right?”
“Well, yes. But why?”
“Then wouldn’t it be enough for me to just throw this on and go through the ceremony?”
“…Hesti, you’re not exactly sane either, are you?”
“Did I say something strange?”
“You’re suggesting we send a substitute to the wedding?”
Lancel’s hollow smile vanished abruptly. He suddenly turned to the Count of the Palace, who immediately recoiled in disgust.
“Don’t entertain such foolish ideas. His Majesty will be watching. What are you thinking?”
“I’ll take full responsibility.”
Lancel wasn’t particularly worried. As long as they weren’t caught, what did it matter? Even if they were discovered, it wouldn’t be a problem. He knew exactly who the current Emperor was, an imposter. That man wouldn’t care about such trivial matters. In fact, he’d probably find it amusing.
The Count of the Palace sighed heavily at Lancel’s repeated assurances.
“I know nothing about this. If anything goes wrong, you will bear the full consequences.”
“Of course.”
‘I’ve even beheaded a prince. Why would this frighten me?’
17.
“Please come in.”
The banquet hall was crowded with nobles who had gathered in droves.
A wedding held at the Imperial Palace was a rare spectacle, let alone one involving the Chamberlain’s daughter. Most attendees had abandoned urgent matters to witness the event.
“In the name of the gods, I, the Emperor Freesia, bless this union.”
The Emperor, who was officiating the ceremony, remained hidden behind a curtain.
“The couple to be wed, please step forward to the dais and face each other.”
Lancel remained unfazed by the dazzling interior decorations or the countless eyes fixed upon him. He was too preoccupied with a strange sense of déjà vu regarding the bride walking beside him.
‘Aren’t you wearing shoes that are too high?’
The nobles reacted similarly.
“Was she always this tall?”
“She was always on the taller side for a woman. She’s not one of the Empire’s three great beauties for nothing.”
“Still, she seems even taller than usual.”
“My woman… the woman who should have been mine… sob.”
Occasionally, someone would burst into tears. After all, the daughter of Count Iceford had captivated more than a few noble men.
From the moment Hesti appeared veiled, she hadn’t uttered a single word.
‘The first person I will marry in this life is Hesti.’
Technically, Marigold had been his first, but Lancel had no memory of that in this iteration. As far as he was concerned, this was his first marriage.
Amidst a shower of bright yellow petals falling like rain, Lancel and Hesti gazed at each other.
“Silence. Let all hear.”
The Emperor raised his hand from behind the curtain.
“Before these two who have become one today may lie countless trials. Days of shattering and breaking will inevitably darken their path. But I, Freesia, have no doubt that if they rely on and support each other, they will ultimately overcome them all.”
It was around that moment that Lancel realized the identity of the person before him.
How could he not recognize her? Even with the veil obscuring her face, the contours of her face were those of the person Lancel knew best in this world.
‘Marigold?’
“Why are you here?” Lancel barely managed to choke out the words.
The wedding ceremony was still underway.
‘Is this Hesti’s doing?’
There was no other explanation.
Lancel watched Marigold’s shoulders tremble slightly. She was clearly tense under the weight of countless gazes.
He gently placed his hand on her shoulder, gazing into her eyes through the veil. He felt her trembling gradually subside.
“O God, beneath this blessed sky, these two have finally become husband and wife.”
The Imperial Archbishop finally began the formal declaration.
“Now let neither good nor evil, death nor time, nor eternity itself ever part them!”
============
—Marigold once again stands in the same place as the man in her memories. She senses that her bond with him is so strong that even a blade could sever it.
※The bond with the young noble, Lancel Dante, has deepened.
※300 album points have been earned. The “Succession of Memories” will unlock upon the accumulation of 1500 points.
============
Through the falling flower petals, Lancel could see Marigold’s face. He smiled bitterly.
‘Did we fail again this time?’
But why?
He didn’t dislike it as much as he thought he would.
In fact, he felt almost relieved.
Time stretched endlessly before them.
“The two of you may now kiss.”
Lancel approached Marigold and kissed her.
============
TIP: Once the “Succession of Memories” is unlocked, all flashbacks can be accessed. The game may also be started with all attributes acquired.
============
‘Huh?’
The thought barely formed before it vanished, overwhelmed by the searing heat of a kiss.
18.
“Your Majesty.”
That evening, a servant arrived at the Emperor’s bedchamber.
“The Fifth Prince, who went to war, has sent an urgent message. It’s a desperate plea for reinforcements.”
“…He insisted on throwing himself into the thick of battle, and now he’s gotten himself into trouble.”
The Emperor’s voice that reached them from behind the curtain was no longer the deep, resonant voice of a middle-aged man they had known.
Instead, it was its complete opposite:
The voice of a young woman.
“Assemble the troops by tomorrow and send them with the Sixth Prince.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Wait.”
The voice stopped the servant.
“Send Lancel Dante with them as well.”
“Sending a newlywed straight to the battlefield might raise eyebrows. Are you certain about this, Your Majesty?”
A soft chuckle came from behind the curtain.
“The Third Prince personally recommended him as a skilled knight. It’s worth giving him a chance.”
I was about to be mad that Hesti was the substitute instead of Mary, but she pulled a fast one on us!