This Marriage Must End in Tragedy - Chapter 21

Even so, the reaction was quite gentlemanly compared to when the rumors spread about dating Ansi de Rubels.

Perhaps I should consider it fortunate that they’ve come this far.

“There’s a set order for the ceremony. We can’t just rush through it.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Well then. What are you trying to say?”

“Don’t betray us who have raised you until now, Damion.”

Marianne, who had been biting her lip, suddenly spoke. Her golden eyes were filled with anger today as well. Eyes that had sometimes pitied Damion, and other times coldly ignored him.

“You’re speaking as if I’ve stabbed you in the back, Mother.”

“You’re trying to shame us.”

“That’s right. Your brother said to respect your choice so we’re not saying anything more, but isn’t this too grand of an affair?”

“Then, shall we cancel it?”

Damion asked, stretching the corners of his mouth.

Veins popped on Basilov’s face.

Cunning bastard. Asking about canceling on the wedding day, knowing full well such an embarrassing thing was absolutely impossible.

He had been like that since he was young. Knowing his place, he would smile slyly but his eyes held sharpness.

Even knowing that was the only rebellion Damion could do, it still gave him chills.

In any case, the ceremony was just around the corner.

Marianne knocked on the waiting room door four times quickly and approached Damion. It was the signal that preparations were complete.

She smiled affectionately and gently caressed Damion’s cheek. The Duke wrapped his arm around Damion’s shoulders.

At the same time, the waiting room door opened. It was exactly 5 seconds after the door had been knocked.

The gazes of those outside turned towards Damion and his family.

“Once again, congratulations, our son.”

Marianne’s voice was choked with emotion.

It was utterly ridiculous, but as always, Damion decided to participate in this play to an appropriate degree. He placed his hand over Marianne’s and asked.

“Is it alright for me to be happy?”

At a glance, it seemed like the appearance of a groom feeling anxious excitement before his wedding. But to Marianne, it sounded as if he was protesting that he hadn’t been happy until now.

“Be happy, just as you have been until now.”

Marianne responded and tried to withdraw her hand. But Damion didn’t let go.

One of Marianne’s eyebrows twitched.

“Thank you, Mother.”

Only then did Damion release his grip. Marianne nodded with a smile in her eyes.

“I heard the Duke and his wife dote on their second son a lot, seems it’s true.”

“He just returned from the battlefield not long ago and now he’s getting married, you must feel regretful.”

Those watching from outside smiled warmly. That’s truly how it appeared to their eyes.

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Thanks to arriving at the cathedral early, Hopry was able to watch the ceremony from a fairly good spot, if not as good as Henet, the best man. Seeing the crowd continuing to pour into the cathedral, he was worried about getting home later, but for now decided to focus on the wedding.

When Damion de Orphe entered, honestly, he was so perfect that Hopry didn’t even feel envious.

Wearing a morning coat over a well-tailored shirt and pants, his gait was smooth yet dignified as if walking on water. He showed no signs of nervousness, rather seeming relaxed, as expected of someone extraordinary.

To think such a perfect person would choose the daughter of a ruined house. Hopry thought perhaps the god Liento had given him everything but taken away his judgment in choosing a partner…

Seeing Damion’s expression suddenly brighten, Hopry turned around.

“…!”

Ah, so even Damion was swayed by looks!

He had thought her appearance was extraordinary when he caught a glimpse at the ball that day, but seeing her today, she truly was extraordinary.

The woman wearing a traditional plum-colored dress with her black hair tied back had an elegant appearance, no, a dazzling appearance. Perhaps due to her distinct features that stood out even from afar, she was a woman who expressed contrasting images simultaneously.

“It’s an anemone flower. The flower language means love, right?”

At his friend’s words beside him, Hopry finally lowered his gaze to Ansi’s hands. The red anemone flower matched well with the dress.

The bride began walking down the aisle alone. This was unusual. Normally, the father would escort her, or if not, another male elder.

The long silk dress trailing behind her swayed gently with each step.

Just then, hearing a small commotion, Hopry looked back at Damion. He had turned and walked to meet the bride. This too was a bold move.

Hopry had a premonition. That in future weddings, the couple entering together would spread like a trend.

The lovers about to become husband and wife vowed eternal happiness before the god. All who applauded believed they would do so.

No one knew what thoughts the bride held at the center of those cheers.

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Ansi felt she was enduring these formalities quite well.

She wore the blood-red dress she disliked without showing her distaste, and gazed at Damion de Orphe with an appropriately happy expression, smiling shyly. The awkwardness was replaced by an expression of nervousness, making it even easier than usual.

However, at some point, she couldn’t help but freeze stupidly.

It was the moment her eyes met Kardian de Orphe’s.

Honestly, Ansi had worried about and guarded against Kardian’s interference as this marriage progressed. After all, he wouldn’t just stand by and watch his brother marry the daughter of the person he killed.

But making her wariness seem foolish, in the end nothing happened, and only today did she understand why.

He was sitting there, congratulating his brother’s wedding as if nothing was wrong.

With an unbothered face.

As if truly, nothing had happened.

“Ha.”

Ansi let out a laugh without realizing it.

Seething hatred revived. If only he had shown even a displeased expression. Then I would have felt a small sense of accomplishment for coming this far.

What I felt now was just misery and intense hatred.

My hand holding the bouquet tightened. The stem of the red anemone was slightly crushed.

“Are you alright?”

A quiet question was heard. It was from the man standing beside me. As Ansi turned her head, she saw the man looking at her with concern.

The brother of the enemy who trampled her peace.

A romantic who chose her without knowing anything.

Choosing the anemone flower as the bouquet was a kind of stubbornness.

The well-known flower language of anemone in Velgader is love.

And the hidden, lesser-known meaning is betrayal.

This flower was a comfort to herself, who had to take the Orphe family name she hated, and a warning to him.

With this, Ansi decided to discard these complicated feelings that welled up when she thought of him.

“I guess I’m a bit nervous.”

Ansi faced Damion and narrowed her eyes.

A warm, large hand overlapped hers on his arm.

“It must be burdensome, but once we get there, it will be over.”

He gestured towards the cathedral doors with a kind voice. Ansi calmly turned her head to face forward. Her face, which had been filled with hatred and misery, now bore a smile.

Blessings poured down over the slow march.

Amidst it all, Ansi thought.

That we will be unhappy.

That this marriage must end in tragedy.

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The music echoing through the reception hall was for short dances. The young men and women in attendance danced to the music, but the important point was that the newly married couple could neither dance nor converse with each other.

This was an ancient tradition of Velgader, and Damion had never particularly thought deeply about it.

“Congratulations, Young Lord Orphe.”

“I am merely grateful that you took the time to attend, Lady Naian.”

Another short dance began. While Damion moved his body lightly, he often looked over there. His gaze was directed towards Ansi de Orphe, the woman who had just become his wife.

“Congratulations, Lady Orphe.”

“Congratulations on your marriage.”

Yes, thank you. The woman gave her usual blunt response to people’s congratulations and began to dance.

That conversation, if it could be called that, and her dry movements were strangely concerning, probably for no particular reason.

After all, hadn’t he finally become that woman’s partner through their marriage vows today? Worry and expectation about whether he could properly achieve what he wanted. It must be because of such thoughts.

Somehow, that woman’s complexion didn’t seem very good.

“There must have been many good marriage prospects… It’s a pity, Lord Damion.”

“It’s already more than I deserve. You’re making thoughtless and rude concerns that I never requested.”

He seemed to have filtered his words less than usual to those making unnecessary comments, but he decided to understand himself since it was his wedding day.

However, this tradition felt very strange. Dancing with others instead of one’s spouse before the marriage, whoever created this foolish and immoral tradition made him somewhat uncomfortable.

Ansi moved her body with a dry expression. With each turn of her foot, her evening dress rippled softly. The plum-colored flowers decorating the dress hem swayed lightly.

The plum-colored flowers adorning the dress were a symbol that she was today’s protagonist. It was a color that matched perfectly with her black hair and white skin, but somehow, that woman didn’t seem to like that color.

Whether she disliked the red color, or the wedding dress itself. Or… was her poor complexion because she was ill?

Suddenly, pondering such things made him feel foolish. Right, it’s not like we can talk anyway.

“Damion, congratulations on your marriage.”

Damion took his eyes off Ansi and shifted his gaze to a group of people approaching. To avoid worrying about her, he briefly left the hall to talk with the men.

When he returned here again.

He saw the figure of someone standing next to Ansi.

At that moment, Damion unconsciously took a step towards her.