The Perfect Bride

“Did you feel comfortable during your trip…? No wonder the face looks more relaxed….”

Pausing for a moment, the man continued to mutter to himself in amazement as he walked towards the couch.

“That’s so amazing…. You must be bowing down to the Queen every day. I think I’ve said it a few times, but there will never be anyone who can match her beauty, except for you and Princess Charlotte, of course. Well, you three look almost exactly alike.”

“You are as talkative as ever. Sit down.”

“No, but are you sure you’ve been on a tour?”

The man was simply amazed. No matter how many dozens of attendants he had, the journey that required months of traveling by ship was extremely arduous. But for some reason, he couldn’t tell why the prince in front of him looked more radiant than a year ago.

“Shut up.”

“I see you’re still harsh, though that’s part of your charm. Anyway, it’s been a long time. Ah, Your Royal Highness Prince Ian, Duke of Baldoma. Congratulations on your safe return.”

It was a mess where to begin pointing out–the manners and the order were all over the place, even with the royal family right in front of them.

“If House Horace is stripped of his dukedom one day, it will be your fault for being an ass.”

“By the way, you won’t see me in the White Tail from now on. Not with the water so muddy like this.”

Aster Horace, Duke of Horace, sitting gracefully cross-legged on a silk sofa, casually changed the subject, pretending not to have heard Ian’s stern warning.

As the long-time friend of the prince and the master of the House of Horace, which had been as old as the Grand Batten Royal Family, it was possible for him to be so audacious.

“It’s no use. Duan is loud and promiscuous wherever you go.”

“At least try to love the city you’re supposed to be ruling. Love is an endeavour. My successful marriage is a good example.”

Aster gulped down his whiskey in an ornate crystal goblet, remembering his own marriage.

“I love my wife, my duchess, with all my heart.”

He called it love, but his feelings for her were more like a friendship forged in camaraderie. The Duke and Duchess, after fulfilling the noble duty of producing an heir, had their own lovers. It was an open secret.

“Hmmm. Well.”

“……?”

It was just a joke said without any thought, but Ian’s reaction was subtle. Aster, who was about to toast, placed his glass on the table. Despite being a high-ranking noble, he was somewhat talkative and quick-witted.

“You…. What is that meaningful reaction? Are you ready to tell me when the time is right?”

Even though it was just the two of them in the room, Aster lowered his voice. Ian answered with a smirk.

“Oh, my God. I knew you wouldn’t call me unless you were bored. I’m always ready, so tell me now. Do you know how curious I’ve been all this time?”

“I’m getting married within this social season.”

Aster couldn’t hide his disappointment at the breezy answer.

“… All that three-year preparation for just a wedding? Even though it’s long past your time to get married.”

“That’s why I’m doing it.”

“It’s so disappointing…. So which country’s princess is the lucky one?”

“Now I have to start looking for one. I want to ask for the help of the Duchess. That’s why I called you today.”

Aster blinked a few times. He didn’t immediately understand what Ian was saying.

“Ian, our Duchess may be called the Queen of Duan’s social circles, but her connections are only within the Grand Batten…?”

“Yes. Which is why we need Catherine’s help.”

“Hey, Ian.”

They were obviously talking about Grand Batten, but he didn’t understand. He felt like the conversation was going nowhere.

“I’m not sure I understand you. Can you tell me how Catherine is going to find you a bride? I mean, I know our Duchess is great, but she’s not familiar with the princesses of other countries.”

“I’m marrying a lady from Grand Batten.”

“…Uh. Then, you can’t, can you?”

Ian chuckled softly at Aster’s stunned response. His smile was so satisfying that Aster found himself at a loss for words and pursed his lips.

“Are you saying you’ll marry into the nobility? You know what that means and you’re doing this?”

“A marriage that’s not a good match. An abnormal union that brings disadvantages in inheritance.”

A violation of the old and strict convention that nobles should marry nobles and royalty should marry royalty.

The prince replied stiffly.

“No… Ian. Answer… I don’t want to answer….”

Sensing the stubbornness already, Aster shook his head slightly, as if in denial.

“You take the nobility very lightly. You might end up losing your succession rights like your brother did…”

“You said it yourself. Charlotte is the most suited for the throne among us. I acknowledge your good eye for judgment.”

Aster frowned slowly. He remembered saying something like that when he was younger.

“…Charlotte’s reason for accompanying you on your tour was to establish herself.”

Aster wiped his dry face roughly once and looked into the air with a serious expression.

After a long moment, he spoke again.

“I don’t know if the Grand Batten Church would recognise a prince’s marriage to a mere noblewoman in the first place, but…. It’s different from Edward’s time. The aristocracy won’t give up on the one remaining prince easily.”

Last year, the public rallied behind Edward and Eris’s love after Eris won an annulment case after two years.

The aristocracy and the royal family took a step back, and the couple married.

In the meantime, the position of crown prince had been vacant for over three years.

“Yes. I’ll have to make an even crazier choice than Edward. I wouldn’t even be considered a prince.”

“…Is it okay if I don’t do it? Will there be any consequences if I refuse?”

“So, Duke, I want my bride to be as troubled as possible. She’ll have to be the worst bride of the season, not the best.”

“Ah….”

“It helps if she has a place in the aristocracy, too. So she’ll have to be a lady whose first words out of her mouth are, ‘If you’re going to marry me, you have yo give up all the rights that a prince of Grand Batten enjoys.'”

“Ha….”

Aster made a soft gurgling sound. The bride conditions of Prince Ian, who is called the most perfect prince, was truly revolutionary.

“And we’ll divorce in a year.”

Wow. Aster screamed like someone who had finally heard a terrible story.

‘Divorce is a sin.’

In a world where you are with the church from birth to death, doctrine is another law.

The nobility’s longstanding opposition to the divorced former Duchess of Hainsnover was more religious than diplomatic.

The head of the Grand Batten Church is the king. And for him, a history of divorce is unacceptable.

“Aster, I’m going to be a divorced man.”

“You, you! Crazy! You’re crazy!”

“I love that reaction.”

Ian chuckled, amused at Aster’s flailing.

“You are now trying to find an easy-to-divorce lady purely for your own benefit…”

“If you have any questions, go to the Malik House. Don’t come find me directly. You’re too noisy.”

Before Aster could recover his senses, Ian slammed the letter with the detailed bride requirements down on the table and rose to his feet as if his work was done.

Aster stared at Ian’s back, pale and weary.

“Ah, keep your mouth shut.”

“Oh, Ian. Why don’t you want to become a king? Being a king is great. Let’s not make things complicated. Wait a minute…”

“Your beard doesn’t look good on you.”

Ian said without looking back.

Aster, who had become a duke at a young age, had grown a moustache for the sake of his dignified image, and it covered the corners of his mouth as he looked somewhat hurt.

Regardless, Ian’s steps were lighter than usual as he walked through the private door of the private room.

Aster was a good judge of character, and by now he knew what to do. He was in a good mood for a change, having abused his power and left Aster with the most troublesome task of all: finding a bride.

Aster’s cry echoed behind Ian, ‘What’s wrong with you siblings! Why can’t I twist your blessed lives to my liking!’

“Your Highness, are you going to Malik House?”

Marcus Peebles, who had been following Ian, asked. And it was then that Ian’s steps slowed. An unexpected figure peeked out of the corridor window leading to the private rooms.

‘Lieutenant Roger Heaton.’

Aster’s somewhat flippant attitude made him appear to be a carefree gentleman, but he was inherently arrogant and conservative as a high-ranking noble. The dog and cow he referred to was probably Roger Heaton.

Ian finally came to an involuntary stop. There were certain things that naturally came to mind when he saw Roger Heaton.

An apricot-coloured letter envelope. Handwriting like a general. The flat hat and suspenders. A white face, with exotic, bronze-coloured eyes and hair.

A rather shocking appearance for someone with such a colourful history of deviant behaviour, with tears streaming down her cheeks and a sobbing defendant that had the prosecutor scratching his head.

For someone who hasn’t thought about the woman in a very long time, everything was vivid and surprising even to himself. It was almost as if the things he had completely forgotten were now pale in comparison.

Perhaps her name was.

“Your Highness?”

“…Natalie Dowse.”

“Yes…?”

Marcus reacted as stupidly as he had in a long time.

He couldn’t fathom why the Prince would bring up a name he’d never mentioned before. A name that had come up on and off for three years, and now, at this time.

While Marcus hadn’t quite caught up with his master’s train of thought, Ian began to move again.

“After being acquitted, what happened next…”

He muttered to himself.

“Well, I’m good…. I’ll find out.”

Marcus, who was shaking his head, quickly caught up with the now-distant Ian and spoke. Strangely, there was no answer coming back.

Marcus’s voice hadn’t reached Ian at all earlier, but the aide hadn’t expected the prince to be so preoccupied as to not hear him.

That was Marcus Peebles’ first mistake.