Chapter 3
As Edzov stared at her blankly, unable to comprehend what he had just heard, Amelia fought to suppress the violent surge of emotions rising in her throat—so bitter, it was as if she could taste bile.
“Did you truly think I would never find out?”
Edzov, flustered at first, quickly realized this was no jest. His lips twisted into a cold sneer.
“So, you didn’t fall for it. Guess you’re not entirely stupid.”
Before her, he had always played the perfect nobleman. His long, shining silver hair, his golden eyes that gazed at her with endless sweetness, his elegant smile on that perfectly sculpted face—he was like a vision from a dream. But not now. This arrogance, this disdain—that was his true face.
“Not even for a single moment… was he ever sincere with me.”
“If you hadn’t noticed, I would’ve played the part of a good husband until the moment you died. That was the extent of mercy I intended to offer you.”
His voice dripped with mockery, yet Amelia forced herself to remain unaffected, at least outwardly.
“But now that I know the truth, this relationship… it’s over.”
Edzov shook his head slowly, eyes wide with incredulity.
“You’re going to leave me? Do you even think you can leave me?”
Though her defiance caught him off guard, he remained confident. She could never leave him. To that pitiable woman, he was everything. Manipulating her with the farce of love had been simple. She would obey him until the end, convinced that he cared for her.
“Of course I can leave. You don’t love me, Your Grace, and I no longer love you either.”
Even now, she still spoke of love—how laughable.
“You don’t love me?”
Struggling for breath beneath the weight of his presence, Amelia met his gaze and spoke with perfect clarity.
“No. So let’s end this now. I refuse your proposal. Please leave, Your Grace.”
Amelia turned her back firmly. But in an instant, Edzov grabbed her waist with one arm, yanking her toward him.
“What do you think you’re doing—!”
As she raised her voice, Edzov merely looked at her calmly, reaching up to gently caress her cheek. Leaning in as if to kiss her, he whispered against her ear.
“I know how deeply I’ve hurt you. I know you don’t want to look weak in front of me. But even now, you’re trembling in my arms.”
He lifted his gaze to her eyes, watching them shake violently.
You’ll never escape me, he thought. Not ever.
“I’ll give you time.”
“…”
“Amelie, you’re useful to me. But Meysarina… that lowborn girl means nothing. Just a fleeting amusement. That’s the difference between you and her. Don’t think for a second that you’ve lost to her.”
His voice turned velvety, seductive, as his fingers stroked her hair with slow deliberation.
“At the banquet, we’ll announce our engagement. When I become Emperor, you’ll sit quietly beside me as my Empress. Until the day you die, I’ll cherish and love you—as my rightful wife.”
He stared into her eyes, where tears had begun to pool, and etched her face into his memory.
“Just keep obeying me… like always.”
With those cruel parting words, he turned and left. Amelia trembled violently, her entire body recoiling from his touch, his breath, his voice—all of it still clinging to her like filth.
At first, even knowing he had betrayed her, she had been swept away by the chaos of emotions—for she had loved him so deeply. But now… now, she trembled for another reason. She trembled with fury, with disgust so sharp it took her breath away. His repulsive true nature was suffocating.
“Obedience?”
Had he ever given her love? Or only orders?
“He never saw me as anything but a possession.”
A mistake, he had said. That she was hurt.
Now, she saw it all clearly—the wicked man behind the mask.
“Keep thinking you’ve conquered me. Let’s see how the world changes—and how you’re thrown down before me. I wonder if you’ll be so smug when that moment comes. I’m curious.”
Amelia placed a hand over her chest. She could feel it—her heart. A pulse, vibrant and strong, resounding through her body. A sound she had never known before. Her first taste of a healthy, living heart.
I’m alive… vibrantly, undeniably alive. A little different… but alive.
[I’ll let your heart bloom for exactly one year. Just one year.]
“The miracle of the violet… it came to me, too.”
One year. No—a full year. A sufficient year.
“Sit quietly and become your Empress? Do you truly think you’ll become Emperor?”
Her tear-filled eyes turned cold—frozen solid.
“I’ll make you feel what I felt. I’ll take from you everything you desire most.”
In this one year, she would truly love herself. And she would destroy those who hurt her—completely. This time, she would take everything. No longer blind or deaf, no longer their fool.
“I’ll teach you who truly belongs on their knees.”
“Milady! Milady!”
Mami burst into the room, her voice choked with tears.
“Mami?”
“Waaah! Milady! I was so scared! They told me you collapsed! I wanted to come right away, but I only just heard because of the banquet preparations! I’m sorry!”
She threw her arms around Amelia, sobbing uncontrollably. Amelia blinked in confusion.
“Mami… weren’t you the one who found me?”
“What?”
Who brought me here yesterday?
Someone had carried her—saved her. She had been certain it was Mami.
Did they say something to me?
She couldn’t recall the exact words, but they had been… warm, comforting.
“Milady? Are you alright?”
At Mami’s genuine concern, Amelia offered a faint smile.
“I’m fine. I’m perfectly healthy now.”
“What…?”
Amelia had no intention of telling anyone—not yet—that her heart had recovered.
“Mami, has Grandfather returned yet?”
“Not yet, but he’s expected back today.”
“Let me know the moment he arrives. There’s something I need to tell him. Also…”
Amelia turned her gaze to the marriage proposal Edzov had given her.
“I’m getting married.”
Mami lit up at her words.
“Oh my goodness! You’re accepting Grand Duke Bastien’s proposal? That’s wonderful! I heard His Grace arrived at the estate—”
“I’m marrying a Grand Duke, yes. But not Bastien.”
Amelia held the proposal in her hands.
“I’m marrying Grand Duke Clio of the Northern Territory.”
Without hesitation, she tore the proposal clean in half. Mami gasped in horror.
“W-What?! Marrying who? Grand Duke Clio?! That… that monster duke?!”
Amelia had chosen to marry Edzov’s most hated enemy—his own younger brother. Though a prince of the imperial family, Clio had been cast off to the far North, a land of exile, due to his low-born mother’s bloodline. Known as the Black Lion of the North, he was feared and reviled. Tales of him were monstrous: a warmonger who drenched the land in blood, barbaric and cruel, a man devoid of mercy. And now, marriage with him?
“Milady, you’re joking, right? You accepted Grand Duke Bastien’s proposal, and now suddenly… Clio?!”
Amelia, unfazed by Mami’s shock, told her everything. Mami’s face darkened, her fury erupting.
“That bastard! Unbelievable! That vile, lunatic man! And Lady Meysarina—no, that wretched woman! I never liked her from the start!”
Mami trembled with rage, trying to hold back harsher words. Amelia felt a warmth stir inside her. Mami was the only one who had ever stood by her, sharing her pain and anger—her only ally.
“But why marry Grand Duke Clio of all people?”
“Because the person he despises most… is his younger brother, Eclite Riot Clio.”
“Clio…?”
“He’s the reason Bastien was forced to the South and Clio sent to the North. Bastien can’t even stand sharing the same ground with him.”
“I’ve heard they hated each other, but…”
“I want him to feel exactly what I felt. That crushing pain. The agony of a heart being ripped apart.”
Mami’s face darkened even more.
“I want perfect revenge. I’m going to take away what he desires most.”
“And what’s that?”
Amelia’s answer was firm and absolute.
“The throne.”
Mami froze.
“How could you… wait, you’re not serious—!”
“If he loses the crown to the brother he loathes, he’ll understand even a fraction of my despair.”
“You’d marry Grand Duke Clio for that… but is it even possible?”
“In the Solar Empire, nothing’s impossible. The Emperor doesn’t pass the crown at will.”
Unlike other empires, Solar’s succession laws were unique. Embracing the ideal of the sun that shines on all equally, the Five Ducal Houses evaluated the princes’ worth. Only with their approval—and the Emperor’s—could a prince ascend. The dukes served only those they respected and deemed worthy. Until the Day of Judgment, all royal sons remained as Grand Dukes, proving their merit in service to the empire.
Edzov enjoyed the favor of the dukes and the Emperor. Entrusted with the warm, fertile South, closest to the capital, he was cherished. Meanwhile, Clio had been exiled to the frozen North—the empire’s prison, in all but name—due in no small part to Edzov’s influence.
“I doubt any of the Five Dukes would ever support Grand Duke Clio.”
“At least House Fiore will.”
“Duke Fiore? But even he couldn’t possibly—”
“I’ll make him Emperor.”
Amelia’s voice was steel.
“I’ll choose him. I’ll make him Emperor.”
Mami could see the determination in her eyes, but the task seemed impossible.
“You mean to claim House Fiore’s title for yourself?”
“Yes. If I become head of House Fiore, I’ll have the right to decide who ascends.”
Until now, she had been the one chosen, controlled, tossed aside. Now, she would hold the power—to choose, to command.
“But… you know the Fiore Dukedom belongs to the Musketeer family. If you can’t wield a gun, you can’t lead them. They’ll never accept you.”
“Which is why I have much to do.”
“Wouldn’t it be better to ask the Duke for help—?”
“No. His Grace is already unwell. I won’t burden him further.”
Duke Belvan, head of House Fiore, had stepped back from his duties due to declining health. As a result, the search for a successor had intensified.
“And I have to be the one to do it. I need power—only then can I support Grand Duke Clio and turn him into a new contender for the throne, to stand against that man.”
Mami didn’t fully grasp everything in Amelia’s heart, but she could tell how grueling the path ahead would be. And because of that, she was determined to trust Amelia—completely, without hesitation.
“Alright. I’ll support you, Milady, no matter what. But first things first… the most important thing now is marrying Grand Duke Clio. Do you think he’ll accept? That war-crazed monster…”
Amelia began writing swiftly on a sheet of parchment.
“I’ll start by sending him a marriage proposal. We have a magical communicator, don’t we?”
Through magical communicators, letters could be warped instantly. The problem was, they were prohibitively expensive—only the nobility could afford them.
“We do have one, but…”
“I have to meet him in person if I want any chance of convincing him. He’s never visited the capital since moving to the North.”
“I’ve never seen him at any social gatherings either. Honestly, I sometimes wonder if he’s even human. No one’s seen his face, not properly.”
The rumors about Grand Duke Clio were terrifying—a monster, cursed, hideously deformed. As Mami spoke, the more unsettled she became about the idea of this marriage.
“Milady… you’re seriously going to marry him? Even for revenge? They say his temper is vile. What if he’s… horribly ugly? No, he must be ugly!”
“Looks and personality don’t matter. This marriage isn’t about emotions.”
“Milady…”
“What matters is that he’s the person I need. I have to meet him—no matter what. That’s why I’m doing this.”
Amelia’s face took on a resolute determination.
“If I send a proposal, he’ll be so stunned he’ll have no choice but to meet me.”
No one could learn that this was a contract marriage. Not even the slightest hint could remain. She had to meet him face to face.
“What if he’s so stunned, he kills you on the spot?”
“Oh come on. He’s still a Grand Duke.”
Ignoring Mami’s half-joking warning, Amelia clutched the proposal tightly and steadied her racing heart.
It’ll work. I can do this. I will marry that monster duke, no matter what!
Inside a crowded inn, a man cloaked in a black robe sat anxiously, waiting for someone. Though the robe concealed much of his face, glimpses of bronzed skin and dark, blood-tinged hair slipped into view. Beneath his sharp, black eyes, a deep scar stretched across his cheek—fearsome in appearance. He cast frequent glances at the inn’s door.
“Where in the world is he? Staying out overnight with no message at all!”
His voice was laced with frustration and worry.
Could it be because of that woman he rescued yesterday? But who is she, to cause this?
Just then, the inn’s door creaked open. The once-noisy tavern fell silent. Every eye turned, filled with fear. A man stepped inside, clad in dark beast-hide armor and a hood that concealed half his face. He walked with deliberate calm—a man unmistakably from the barbaric North. As he entered, the robed man sprang to his feet and saluted like a blade snapping into place. The man took his seat wordlessly, and the other patrons quickly looked away.
“Where were you yesterday?! Do you know how worried I was, Your Grace?”
“Quiet.”
Barbaric in both manner and appearance, it was hard to believe this man was a Grand Duke—a prince of the empire. But he was none other than the Black Lion of the North, Grand Duke Eclite Riot Clio. Rumored to never set foot outside the North, he had secretly traveled to the South on urgent business. He should have returned yesterday—but had stayed out overnight and remained here. His knight and guard, Cahillro, could make no sense of him.
“Don’t tell me this has to do with that woman you rescued in the mountains?”
“Cahillro.”
Eclite spoke his name with a dangerous edge, and Cahillro flinched, quickly changing the subject.
“A-Anyway, we need to return to the North. You’re leaving today, aren’t you?”
“Not sure.”
“…What?”
“I only meant to see her once. But when she asked me to stay… I began to want to.”
“What are you talking about, Your Grace?”
Cahillro couldn’t follow a word. Eclite stared at his own hand in a daze, then looked sharply at Cahillro.
“Did you catch them?”
Thinking of the bandits, Cahillro shook his head.
“After the chaos you caused, do you think any of them survived? The landslide buried them alive. All dead.”
“They died too easily.”
Eclite twisted his lips, clearly displeased.
“But I heard there haven’t been any bandits in that area. It’s strange.”
“Hearing that… makes me think I should stay nearby a bit longer.”
“Stay nearby…? Near who? Wait—don’t tell me—!”
Just then, someone approached Eclite and whispered something to him, handing him an item. Cahillro furrowed his brows in confusion.
“What’s that?”
“A letter.”
“How did anyone know Your Grace was here?”
“I had all mail destined for the North redirected to this location.”
“You’ve been waiting for a letter?”
Eclite’s fingers trembled slightly as he examined the envelope. For a brief moment, his voice betrayed a flicker of emotion.
“Yes. I’ve waited… very much so.”
Eclite rose to his feet. Cahillro followed immediately.
“Are we leaving now? Shall I ready the horses?”
“Yes, but first…”
Eclite glanced at his rugged appearance and, with a mildly awkward look, snatched Cahillro’s robe and threw it over his shoulders.
“I’ll borrow this.”
“Wait—what? Where are you going?! Aren’t we returning to the North?!”
“To reply.”
“…What?”
Eclite turned without another word. His usual sharp eyes and stern mouth seemed, somehow, just a bit more relaxed. Cahillro stared at the empty space his lord had vanished from, utterly baffled.
“Why is he like this? At least say something clear before leaving!”
Muttering in frustration, he lifted the letter Eclite had left behind.
“What kind of letter is this anyway…? Huh, just a proposal? Wait—a proposal?!”
His eyes widened in shock as he read the contents.
—It was love at first sight. Please marry me, Grand Duke Eclite Riot Clio.
Sincerely, Amelia Chezaret.—
