"…A son-in-law, huh."
I was gripping my hands tightly, half-expecting a deadly curse to come flying at me.
Fortunately, instead of a curse, what came out of Meredia's mouth was a cryptic mumble.
"If you'd like, I can even write a statement saying that I was the one who proposed it first. That would be good for you too, wouldn't it, Lady?"
Grateful that I had once again escaped death by a hair, I quickly started running my mouth.
However, instead of answering, Meredia merely gave a faint smile and threw a question back at me.
"You seem to know my situation quite well."
"It's a famous story, isn't it? Everyone in the capital probably knows."
That's right.
Meredia's unique circumstances were so widely known that one didn't even need knowledge from a past life—just reading the empire's gossip papers was enough to figure it out.
"Well, even a passing dog knows that the duke is dying to kill me."
"Ahaha…."
To sum it up, a fierce war was raging within the House of Embergreen over the sole heir position of the family head.
Meredia, who currently held the highest ground in that battle, was being bombarded with attacks and schemes, the worst of which was what people called 'marriage assaults.'
This situation stemmed from an ancient tradition of the House of Embergreen regarding the selection of heirs.
According to the rules, the duke could not directly appoint a successor.
Instead, a selection ceremony had to be held, allowing all qualified candidates to participate.
Of course, that didn't mean the family head was entirely excluded from the process.
During the ceremony, the duke had the authority to announce one rule that the candidates must follow.
It was said that this rule existed nominally to prevent the duke from choosing a successor based on emotions while also recognizing the duke's authority as the host of the selection.
But honestly, I wasn't sure how effective it was.
Still, considering the overwhelming power the House of Embergreen had maintained since the founding of the empire, there had to be a reason for keeping such an old-fashioned tradition alive.
Anyway, the problem was that the current Duke of Embergreen, who despised Meredia, had declared a rule stating that "the successor must be married."
For his sons, this rule was no issue at all.
However, for Meredia, who would likely be subordinated to her husband under imperial law, this was a disastrous condition.
Ever since the decree was announced, a flood of fools hoping to hit the jackpot had bombarded Meredia with marriage proposals, increasing the number of letters she received fivefold.
Fortunately, there was a way out of her predicament: finding a husband who would be subordinated to her family—a "son-in-law."
However, no noble above the rank of count was willing to take such a precarious position, where they could be discarded like a chess piece at any moment.
At the same time, marrying a viscount or a baron would be too much of a blow to Meredia's prestige.
Even if she used her usual tactics to threaten someone of a suitable status into becoming a puppet husband, the complex and notorious authority tied to imperial noble marriages meant she was more likely to get backstabbed in the end.
"If the rule had simply stated that women couldn't be successors, I would've just staged a rebellion. But since it looks fine on the surface, it's insidiously clever."
Indeed, the Duke of Embergreen, who refused to let Meredia inherit the family even at the cost of destabilizing it, had come up with a truly devious scheme.
"But if you accept my proposal, all of those problems will be solved in an instant."
"Hmm."
"Oh, and I'll make sure the reason for our divorce is found at a time of your choosing. That way, your political reputation won't suffer as much."
Even the duke wouldn't have expected a fool like me to show up.
If things proceeded as I suggested, Meredia's biggest dilemma would be solved smoothly.
She would immediately acquire a contract husband—one with a decent reputation, an appropriate status, and even a prearranged reason for annulment whenever she wanted.
"And what do you gain from this?"
"Obviously, the safety of myself and my family."
And the only fool willing to take on all that, just for the price of a brief marriage, was undoubtedly me.
Honestly, I didn't want to be sold off to a ducal family like this either.
But after meticulously reviewing my family's financial records over the past week, I had no choice.
I discovered mountains of debt and countless business ventures that had swallowed nearly all of the family's assets.
If my engagement to Meredia fell through, investors would immediately withdraw, and before long, debt collectors would be banging down the doors of the estate where my sister and I lived.
What the hell was my father thinking, getting us into this mess and then disappearing?
'It seems like there's a story behind it, but…'
At least my favorite character was Lady Meredia.
If not, I would have wanted to die.
"Hah, fine. I'll trust you for now."
As I quietly sighed to myself, Meredia chuckled again as if something amused her.
Resting her chin on her hand, she continued speaking in a gentler tone.
"Honestly, you seem suspicious in many ways, but at least you're not just some fool blinded by power or lust for my body."
Hearing her words, I wasn't entirely sure yet, but there seemed to be hope.
"I've had enough of those kinds of men."
"Well, I am personally attracted to you, Lady…"
"Still, let's start with an engagement rather than a marriage."
As expected, my half-mumbled words of disappointment were cut off by Meredia's next statement, which actually contained good news.
"That's fine by me."
It was disappointing that it wasn't a full marriage, but an engagement should at least stabilize my family's precarious situation.
Of course, since an engagement came with an expiration date, I would have to work even harder, but at least immediate destruction had been averted.
For now, I could breathe a little easier.
"And I'll add one more condition."
"What?"
"It's nothing major. You just need to help me take care of something that's been bothering me lately."
Just as I was smiling in relief at my temporary reprieve, Meredia poured cold water on my mood.
I could accept an additional condition, but what exactly was bothering her?
As long as it wasn't an unreasonable demand, I was willing to comply, but why did I suddenly get chills down my spine?
"That's why you'll accompany me to the crown prince's engagement ceremony."
"…What?"
As I watched Meredia carefully, I felt my mind reel upon hearing the condition she had just laid out.
"That idiot, who has somehow convinced himself that I've liked him since forever, sent me a wedding invitation."
"Ah…."
"After reading the incredibly insulting words written on that invitation, I just couldn't sit still."
Unfortunately, it seemed I hadn't misheard.
"So, if you're my fiancé, you'll obviously help me take my revenge, won't you?"
'This is bad.'
Honestly, the idea of messing with the prince alongside Meredia wasn't all that surprising.
Now that I was on the same boat as her, I was bound to get involved in even worse things in the future.
Still, the reason I reacted so strongly was that the prince's engagement ceremony served as the tutorial of the original game, and it was designed in a way that ensured the player—the protagonist—would always win.
In other words, Meredia and I, who were positioned as the prologue's antagonists, were destined to lose.
The real problem was that, in the aftermath, I would likely be the one to suffer the consequences, not Meredia.
"What, do you not want to?"
"Ugh…."
Just when I thought I could finally breathe easy, the world suddenly felt like it was turning dark again.
***
"Well, I'm not forcing you."
For the first time, Meredia saw Whitney's smile falter, and she stood up with a satisfied grin, adding a final remark.
"If you don't want to, you can give up."
That smile remained on her face all the way to the garden's exit, even as she stepped over the maids still sprawled on the ground.
"But if you're not willing to take that kind of risk, I won't be interested in you anymore, either."
Was it because she had finally met a worthy opponent after a long time?
Or had she subconsciously found herself intrigued by the man in front of her?
'Surely, you're not backing out now, Whitney.'
As she walked away, Meredia's gaze lingered slightly behind her.
"Wait."
Perhaps because of that, just as her steps were beginning to slow—
"When did I ever say I didn't want to?"
A now-familiar, energetic voice reached her ears.
"That's more like it."
"Ah, but I have a condition of my own."
However, just as Meredia came to a stop with a satisfied smile, an unexpected proposal was made.
"If I successfully assist you with your plan, would you grant me a small wish?"
For the first time, her expression twisted slightly as she turned back.
"Demanding a blank check for something this minor? You sure have a lot of nerve."
"Well, you can always refuse if you don't want to."
Yet Whitney maintained his ever-polite smile as he continued.
"I don't really force people to do things they don't want to."
For some reason, that smile looked cold in Meredia's eyes, as if he were completely serious.
"And besides, even if things go wrong, it's not like I'd be in any position to harm you, would I?"
"Heh."
Hearing words that were nearly a threat—even with her guards nearby—Meredia's lips curled slightly.
'He's not bluffing.'
Despite her expression, she was actually feeling tense for the first time in a long while.
She had only just now confirmed with her own eyes the unsettling aura she had sensed from Whitney ever since their first meeting.
'Well, if it was all bravado, he wouldn't have been able to withstand my killing intent head-on.'
The proof was the grayish aura that flickered around his body like a heat haze, something only visible to her enchanted vision.
"Fine. If you're giving something, you should get something in return."
"A very reasonable statement."
A part of her wanted to probe deeper into the unfamiliar energy she was witnessing for the first time.
However, at that moment, her rationality still held sway over her instincts.
"Of course, I won't entertain any absurd wishes. Keeping things within reason would be best for both of us."
"Don't worry. I won't make any excessive demands."
At her dramatic agreement, Whitney's lips curled up ever so slightly.
"After all, I do like you, Lady."
"You really have no talent for jokes."
At that moment, they truly seemed like a perfect match.
"In that regard, you're quite a lot like me."
'Okay, I get it, now please just leave already.'
Of course, for Whitney, who was internally chanting protection spells at full force just in case she actually cursed him, this was an incredibly unfair assessment.
°°°°°°°°°°
A few dozen minutes later.
After leaving the garden where Whitney had been, Lady Meredia arrived at the mansion's front gate.
Just as she was about to board the waiting carriage, she paused for a moment.
'As expected, he's no ordinary man.'
Unlike when she had left the garden, her expression had cooled considerably.
'He withstood my killing intent head-on.'
The fact that he had taken in that rogue Runiel as his subordinate, successfully restored a magic circuit that no one else could fix, and kept his true intentions hidden despite all her threats—those were things she could understand.
But the killing intent she had just unleashed wasn't something that could be countered by mere willpower or protective spells.
It had been infused with her own mana, which meant that any ordinary fighter should have been left in tatters.
And as far as Meredia knew, there were only a handful of people across the entire continent—beyond just the empire—who could endure such an attack unscathed.
At the very least, Whitney should have shown a reaction similar to Runiel's, gritting his teeth and bracing against it.
Yet for some reason, he had simply endured it without so much as a furrowed brow.
His half-lidded eyes, always unreadable, had remained still, showing not even the slightest flinch.
'…And that aura from earlier.'
It had also appeared when he had seriously stepped in to stop Runiel and her, and again when he had halted her as she was about to leave the garden.
Though it was subtle, Meredia had definitely felt it.
Every time he showed an emotional reaction while seated, the dark energy lingering around him would momentarily surge outward in all directions.
Of course, the energy he carried wasn't necessarily toxic or filled with killing intent.
It simply emanated an endlessly eerie and ominous wave.
But that was exactly the problem.
Even if such an unsettling aura constantly radiated from him, there was no way that those around him—or even he himself—could remain unaffected.
Unless, of course, Whitney was deliberately suppressing it.
So then, what would have happened if, in that moment earlier, Whitney had exerted his full force, just as she had?
"It seems I'll need to investigate further."
Whitney Lingard.
There was definitely something about him.
She didn't yet know what it was, but one thing was certain—his latent potential was at least on par with her own.
"And, of course, I'll still need to be cautious…."
As she organized her thoughts and continued walking, Meredia suddenly halted, her gem-like eyes gleaming coldly.
—CRACK!
A sharp, crunching sound echoed as something shot up from the tree beside her.
The object hastily unfurled its wings and began flapping furiously, but the moment Meredia's gaze locked onto it, its strength drained away, and it plummeted helplessly to the ground.
"…It seems His Majesty himself has taken an interest in this matter."
What had landed at her feet with a fractured shell was a magic artifact—a dove meticulously sculpted from glass.
The mana infused within it was all too familiar to her.
It belonged to the very person she was as wary of as the Duke of Embergreen.
"As expected, I'll have to keep this in my hands for now."
Looking down at the magic device with a cold smile, Meredia crushed it mercilessly underfoot.
Then, as she turned toward the carriage, she muttered in a low voice,
"You should be grateful for such a thoughtful wife, Whitney Lingard."
Of course, had Whitney—who was still in the garden, clutching his head in frustration—heard that, he would have been utterly dumbfounded.