Chapter 02 

A Situation Where There Is No Choice

Florence knew exactly how this situation was going to come back to haunt her.

The way I kept my expression composed while hiding how rotten I felt inside at the ball will all be for nothing, and I’ll be forever remembered as some crazy woman who stole the bride’s wedding dress and put it on herself.

Then she imagined Clark laughing and snickering with Lady Paradi as they read a newspaper article about her humiliation, and any thought of honestly explaining the situation to the priestesses vanished completely.

Still, hoping that Danya might come rushing back with news that Marianne had been found, Florence hurriedly pleaded with the priestesses.

“My maid will be here soon. Can’t you wait just a little longer? Please……”

“Viscount Raul Sinclair is waiting for you. How anxious do you think he must be after being made to wait this long? What are you waiting for? Take the young lady to him at once!”

A priest who appeared to be high-ranking, judging by the tall triangular hat he wore, barked sharply at the priests standing nearby.

When the priests grabbed both of Florence’s arms as though they were about to drag her away, anger flared inside her for a moment. But the moment she heard that Viscount Raul was waiting for her, her reason returned.

Let’s just get out of here for now. It would be better to meet Uncle and ask him for help.

If she continued stubbornly staying in the waiting room, things might become even worse.

For example, someone who knew her face might come in.

For now, covering her face was the most urgent thing.

“How rude. Let go of my arms at once. And I need to put on the veil.”

At Florence’s calm but firm demand, the priests exchanged glances for a moment before slowly releasing her arms. They then began helping her put on the veil.

Thank goodness the veil is long enough to cover my entire upper body, and the lace is dense enough.

Unless someone stuck their face right in front of hers and examined her carefully, it would be difficult to realize that she wasn’t Marianne.

Following the priests’ guidance toward the hall where the ceremony was being held, Florence’s legs began trembling from tension and anxiety.

She somehow managed to keep walking.

She was even barefoot, having not put on her shoes, but she hadn’t noticed that either.

Her mind was filled with nothing but confusion as she wondered how on earth she was going to explain this situation to Uncle.

“The more difficult the situation, the straighter you should hold your back, and the more relaxed your smile should be. You must always believe that you can come out victorious, no matter what happens.”

Her mother’s advice had always been helpful, but in a situation like this, Florence wasn’t so sure.

If she smiled now, she would only look like a happy bride.

As she approached the entrance to the ceremony hall, Florence could see Viscount Raul through the hazy veil.

He was dressed formally and stood anxiously waiting for the bride, holding a bouquet of white tulips wrapped in white lace.

Seeing a man with a face almost identical to her father’s waiting for her with a bouquet in his hands felt strangely unsettling.

Of all flowers, he had to use white tulips.

They were Florence’s favorite flowers because of their neat and beautiful appearance, but she suspected she would develop a trauma associated with them after today.

Shaking off her useless thoughts, Florence hurried toward him.

Since the ceremony had already been delayed for so long, the priests had hurried back to their places, leaving only Florence and Viscount Raul standing by the door.

Florence glanced around and confirmed that no one was nearby before discreetly lifting her veil.

“It’s me, Florence. I’m not Marianne.”

“……I already heard about the situation.”

Florence let out a long sigh of relief and grabbed Viscount Raul by the arm.

“I couldn’t help it either. You’ll understand once I explain what happened. We need to find a way out quickly…… Uncle?”

He, too, seemed to have been pushed beyond the limits of his composure.

He stood there absentmindedly, merely fiddling with the bouquet without saying a word.

Florence felt a sense of kinship with Viscount Raul.

Of course, no one could have been more overwhelmed than the woman who had suddenly become the bride, but judging from how utterly drained he looked, the man had clearly been subjected to an incredible amount of stress.

Then he finally spoke.

His words were enough to make Florence wonder if she had heard correctly.

“We have to enter first.”

“……What?”

“You need to hold the bouquet.”

“What are you talking about right now……?”

It was really happening.

She was about to actually get married!

As Florence cautiously stepped backward, Viscount Raul strode toward her and thrust the bouquet into her hands.

He looked just like a hunter who had caught a fleeing rabbit.

“The Hesed High Priest is behind this door, along with archpriests from all over the Empire and powerful figures from the south. Even members of the Imperial Family are here! What can a mere provincial viscount like me possibly do? Florence! Please, save me. I’m begging you.”

But Florence didn’t care who had come as a guest.

Even if the Sun God himself were here, she couldn’t walk into the wedding hall in Marianne’s place.

“Why would members of the Imperial Family come to the wedding of a mere provincial viscount’s family? I’d rather explain to the guests myself that Marianne has disappeared!”

When Florence took a hard line, Viscount Raul fought back with equal desperation.

His daughter, the bride, had disappeared on her wedding day, after all. He wasn’t exactly in his right mind either.

“……You, who were publicly dumped, are going to appear wearing a wedding dress and announce that the bride ran away? That’s practically throwing yourself into the fire. If you’re going to take this attitude, then I’ll have no choice but to give testimony in the way that puts you at the greatest disadvantage. At this point, whether we all fall together or die together, there isn’t even a deeper pit for us to fall into.”

……!

Florence bit down hard on her lip at Viscount Raul’s words.

If he really went through with that, it wouldn’t just be her reputation that was ruined.

The Sinclair family’s reputation would be dragged so far down that it might as well touch the underworld.

Their family’s business would suffer, of course, and the damage might even reach her three-year-old younger sibling.

Seeing Florence standing there silently, biting her lip, Viscount Raul realized that she was beginning to waver.

He immediately resumed pleading.

“Don’t do this. Let’s just go in for now. We have to get through this moment somehow! Let’s finish the ceremony first, then we can look for Marianne. Please, I’m begging you!”

Florence sighed as she looked at her uncle, who continued to insist.

Marriage wasn’t something one person could do alone.

If things went wrong, the problem wasn’t simply that they would become the laughingstock of society.

“But I don’t even know who the groom is. It would be better to stop the ceremony right now before they accuse me of being a fraud.”

“It was an arranged marriage conducted through written correspondence, so you don’t need to worry about that. We’re all Sinclairs, so no one will be able to accuse you of fraud.”

“What kind of nonsense is that? Do you really think that’s going to work—”

Just as Florence was about to argue furiously, the enormous doors of the chapel slowly began to open.

The ceremony had already been delayed as long as it possibly could be, and the priests could no longer keep the distinguished guests waiting, so they opened the doors without waiting for their consent.

As the chapel doors opened, Viscount Raul and Florence, who had been arguing back and forth, simultaneously fell silent.

The two of them were bound together by the name Sinclair. The moment those doors opened, they had no choice but to board the same sinking ship.

Gripping Florence’s hand tightly, Viscount Raul took the first step forward and whispered.

“Lower your veil and hold the bouquet tightly. We’re going in.”

“U-Uncle!”

“Shh. There’s no turning back now.”

“……”

Before they could do anything about it, a gamble was already underway.

A gamble with their reputations and the future of their family at stake.

Florence’s hand trembled as she gripped the bouquet.

She wasn’t the only one who was nervous. She could feel her uncle’s arm trembling violently as well.

I need to keep my head straight, at least for both of us.

But although Florence desperately repeated those words to herself, she had reached the point where she wasn’t even sure how she was walking.

Stiff with tension, she finally reached the place where the High Priest was standing.

Viscount Raul handed the bride’s hand over to the groom and then hurried away toward the guests’ seats on trembling legs.

Florence was known for her calm and collected conduct, but apparently she wasn’t bold enough to pull off an outright deception.

Swept along by the tide of events and suddenly becoming the main character of a wedding ceremony, she was completely consumed by anxiety.

She could only keep her head lowered, unable to even think about looking at the groom’s face.

All that churned through her mind were images of newspaper headlines such as:

“The Sinclair Count’s Daughter’s Humiliation!”

Or herself being branded a fraud and clapped into iron shackles.

The High Priest began speaking solemnly, but none of his words registered.

It was as though he were mumbling in a foreign language.

Even the hand resting on the man’s arm didn’t feel like her own.

The only thing that made her realize she was actually in the middle of a wedding ceremony was the firm sensation of muscle beneath her fingertips.

“……The bride and groom shall exchange rings.”

At those words, Florence finally managed to gather her thoughts and looked at the hand holding hers through the veil.

The man’s hand was huge and rough, almost like a bear’s paw, and it was covered in scars.

Somehow, it feels familiar. Where have I seen it before?

The vague memory that had begun to surface faded again when she felt the cold touch of metal against her finger.

When she came to her senses, a diamond ring larger than her thumbnail had already been slipped onto the ring finger of her left hand.

The weight of the gemstone made her finger feel heavy, as though a shackle had been fastened around it.

What do I do? I don’t have a ring for him.

She cautiously glanced sideways.

Contrary to the High Priest’s words about exchanging rings, the groom simply took a ring from his inner pocket and slipped it onto his own left ring finger.

At least that was a relief.

Now it was time to sign the marriage documents.

When the priests brought over a metal board holding the documents, the groom, who had already signed, handed Florence a pen.

I’ll just write my surname for now. Marianne and I both have the same surname, Sinclair, so it’ll be easier to get out of this later.

But the problem was that her hand holding the pen was trembling so badly that she could barely write.

She was overwhelmed by an inexplicable premonition that once she signed this document, there would be no going back.

As Florence stood there unable to do anything, she heard the low voice of the man beside her.

“You need to sign.”

It was the first time she had heard the groom’s voice since the ceremony began.

His voice was dark, deep, and viscous, almost like thick tar.

And it belonged to someone she knew.

Only then did Florence raise her lowered head and look at the groom.

He was a sensual man whose delicate forehead flowed into a straight, prominent nose, beneath which rested neatly closed red lips. His sharply sculpted jaw completed the harmonious features of his face.

His skin looked as smooth as ivory-colored satin, while his hair was as black as pitch.

If the words beautiful man were ever given human form, he would surely look like this.

His lavender-colored eyes stared directly at her without the slightest hint of wavering, as though they could see through everything.

The moment their eyes met, Florence’s heart felt as though it had plunged to the bottom of an abyss.

The Grand Duke of Edelstein. Why is this man here……?!

The man known as the Emperor’s black hound, the nobleman who was called the Butcher of Nobles, was standing before her as her groom.