“It’s not that woman. Could it be the woman I saw at the lake……”

The gentle expression that would have made anyone shiver turned cold, but then instantly softened again as he recalled ‘the woman seen at the lake’.

The back garden of Lowen Castle, which looked like a natural forest transplanted without deliberate maintenance.

The water nymph swimming through the mist on the lake, tinged with the pale bluish light of dawn.

Each time the woman swimming gracefully broke the surface, the lake water caressed her body as if reluctant to let her go, sadly returning to the surface.

Fair skin and long red hair, lush even when wet.

Golden eyes that stood out strikingly among the cool colors.

And moist red lips.

There were many writings and paintings describing and admiring the birth of a goddess, but Valquiter could assert:

That was the most beautiful moment he had ever seen.

The perfect being had an unapproachable aura.

That’s why even he, the king of the Oberon Kingdom, knelt down and offered her flowers without thinking.

Valquiter didn’t question why he acted that way.

A woman who could move a man was a being worthy of such treatment.

He had never imagined he would lower himself to make such an offer of courtship to a mere woman.

Valquiter was the ruler of Oberon.

Born to reign supreme, he was never meant to bow to anyone.

Even if the kingdom was invaded and he faced an enemy’s sword, a king’s fate was to meet his end standing tall with head held high.

Yet even he considered it natural that he knelt and asked for her name.

Because that woman didn’t seem to belong to this world of living beings.

While it would be humiliating for a human king to kneel before commoners, how could bowing before a transcendent being like a god be an insult?

It was such an impressive first experience for Valquiter, and it made him somewhat dull-witted.

“Red hair and golden eyes. Vermont had two daughters.”

He had placed several people around Caian.

Reports detailing how a bride, emaciated and plain, was dragged out for the wedding ceremony at Valmont Castle, how Caian left after barely making eye contact for just 30 minutes, and how on the very day she entered Lowen Castle, her carriage broke down and she headed to the bridal chamber in a miserable state after being caught in the rain – all of these reached the king’s desk without fail.

So when Valquiter received the report that Caian had consummated the marriage with such a bride, he couldn’t help but admire him inwardly.

To think that Caian, whom he thought lacked proper loyalty as a subject due to their close upbringing, would follow the royal command to the extent of spending the wedding night with the ugly daughter of an enemy.

However, he belatedly realized that among those reports, there was no mention of the appearance of the Lady of Lowen after her recovery from illness.

While it was important to note that Caian had received a dying bride, with information about her sickly appearance described as emaciated or skeletal,

There was no mention at all of the woman’s figure improving or becoming beautiful after Herzol recovered.

“Then could Caian have…that woman?”

It was unthinkable.

He had arranged this to avoid seeing that guy properly married, but Valquiter’s goddess couldn’t be his wife.

He had firmly believed that Irena, the princess renowned throughout the kingdom for her beauty, would be her.

Valquiter felt betrayed by his own assumptions.

“I need to confirm.”

For the first time, he thought it was a mistake to have returned from Promhunt without meeting Caian directly.

Meanwhile, the face of the woman who had looked at him with surprised, wide eyes before smiling kept lingering in his mind.

Valquiter didn’t realize that it was the awkward smile of a woman who felt threatened after encountering a stranger while swimming in her underwear at dawn in a secluded lake where her husband had forbidden entry to others.

Only in his distorted memory did that mysterious smile exist, bewitching him over and over.

The day of the festival dawned.

“Whew. Haah.”

Claudel took deep breaths in and out, nervous.

“I think I’m wearing this wrong.”

The dress that Madame Marcel had painstakingly made for the festival revealed just a bit of the upper chest and had a slight V-neck in the center.

She knew that such tube-top style dresses often fully exposed the shoulders.

Though she herself had been a wallflower at balls in Valmont Castle, with no one asking her to dance, she knew other women danced gracefully and vigorously in such form-fitting dresses.

Moreover, knowing Claudel was nervous and worried, Madame Marcel had even changed the design, adding straps on the shoulders and sleeves covering down to mid-arm, but wearing such a daring dress for the first time, Claudel kept worrying about it slipping down or the straps breaking while dancing.

‘What if the straps break? It would be so embarrassing in front of the people of the estate.’

Because Claudel kept mentioning it, Madame Marcel wrapped a strap like the one on her dress around her wrist, bit it with her teeth, and pulled to personally demonstrate its sturdiness.

‘See? Isn’t it sturdy?’

Seeing how tough the strap was, she finally nodded.

“My lady! The lord’s speech is coming to an end.”

Hannah entered the tent where she was waiting and resting, informing her of the situation outside.

Following her, Madame Marcel entered with three assistants carrying parts of the voluminous festival overskirt.

“I changed it to a lighter material in case it would be too heavy for you, my lady. Apparently, this festival skirt isn’t made new every year. They say usually a new one is made when a new lady of the castle arrives, and after that it’s repaired or altered for continued use.”

“I see. I’m hearing this for the first time.”

“The previous seamstress had made something, but it wasn’t very good, so I made it again.”

“The previous seamstress lacked both tact and skill. You did well, Madame Marcel.”

Hannah chimed in, looking pleased.

The hands of the assistants holding armfuls of what looked like bundles of chiffon gradually emptied.

After putting on all three layers of the separately made skirt, Claudel looked like a walking human flower.

“Wow. It’s really gorgeous.”

“Hoho. I heard you couldn’t attend the banquet due to illness. Today is the day to properly make an impression on the people of Lowen, so this much is necessary.”

Claudel stood dazed, looking into the mirror held up by an assistant.

Her red hair was smoothly styled, with side braids and the back hair rolled up into a large bun.

Flowers native to Lowen estate were pinned in her hair, and a tiara was placed on top.

Around her neck, exposed by the daring V-neck that almost revealed her cleavage, hung a ruby necklace that Caian had custom-made.

With rubies the size of pinky nails forming flower shapes surrounded by tiny white diamonds, it looked like a floral wreath mixing roses and baby’s breath, uniquely and extremely ornate.

Her small face looked much brighter than usual even with light makeup.

“I didn’t think this would suit me.”

The colorful festival skirt matched well with Claudel’s red hair and golden eyes, making her appear like a passionate beauty.

“My lady, your fair skin makes any color look good on you.”

“It’s amazing. Like a different person.”

Madame Marcel smiled fondly at Claudel who kept looking in the mirror.

“My lady. It’s time to come out.”

The butler poked his head into the tent to relay the message and his eyes widened.

Pleased with his reaction, Madame Marcel and Hannah burst out laughing simultaneously.

“The skirt may be uncomfortable, so please walk slowly.”

As she headed towards the square where the festival was being held, escorted by the butler, cheers and singing that seemed to shake the sky could be heard.

Claudel’s heart was pounding.

Until now, she hadn’t done anything as the duchess in Lowen estate, but after showing her face like this today, things would be different from tomorrow.

However, as Claudel approached the square step by step, people around her fell silent as if extinguished.

At first, she didn’t notice it in her tension, but by the time she reached where Caian was waiting for her in the square, even the music that had been playing well stopped abruptly.

‘Me. Because I’m a Vermont?’

She suppressed her anxious heart and stood face to face with Caian.

Caian too was properly dressed for the festival, cutting a dashing figure. Under his well-groomed forehead, his eyes gleamed red like the midday sun.

Caian’s lips were tightly closed, his expression cool as usual.

But today she couldn’t read her husband’s feelings, which she had become quite good at discerning.

That she was pretty.

‘I knew he was bad at and stingy with such compliments, but could he be displeased? That such flashy clothes don’t suit me?’

Claudel took Caian’s outstretched hand, and began walking in step with him towards the circular square.

As the band started playing again in the awkwardly quiet surroundings, the crowd’s applause kept time.

It was in an instant that Caian embraced and lifted her.

“Huh?”

As Claudel’s eyes widened in surprise, Caian whispered in her ear.

“My lady, please be at ease.”

As he spun her around with terrifying strength, the festival skirt that Madame Marcel had put her all into fluttered in layers, revealing the underskirts in rainbow order from red to purple.

Wooooah!

As people marveled at the spectacle, the cheers grew louder and louder as if excitement had returned.

Claudel was breathless.

Though she was barely taking steps, suspended in the air and whirled around in Caian’s arms, she felt like she might get drunk on the festival fervor.

People were packed tightly all around, and the world spun dizzily in chaos.

When the dance stopped.

“Huff. Huff.”

Claudel was clinging tightly to him, panting.

“Claudel. Look up.”

When she raised her head to look at him, Caian lowered his head and kissed her.

Wooooah! Wooooooah!

The crowd roared with cheers.

The sound deafened Claudel’s ears, and the dazzling shower of fluttering flower petals blinded her eyes.

She couldn’t remember how she returned to the castle, her mind in a haze.

“Caian.”

When her senses returned as if waking from intoxication, he was locking the door to her bedroom and trapping her under his arm.

“Are you determined to drive me mad.”

“Wh-what……”

With his touch, her dress was pulled down in an instant.