Chapter 191: The End of a Special Contract Marriage
Aracila let out a soft sigh. It was something she’d completely forgotten about until now. Thinking back, even when Damian had demanded a divorce before heading off to battle, she’d clung to that clause to stop him.
Though she already knew the truth, she tried to suppress the wave of disappointment washing over her. Forcing a casual tone, she asked, “So… does that mean we’re getting divorced now?”
“I want us both to make a choice we won’t regret,” Damian replied earnestly, his expression almost resolute.
It felt as though he’d already made up his mind, and Aracila struggled to keep her heart from tilting toward bitterness. So this is why he left me here, she thought, catching herself.
“How about we take a week to think it over and meet again?” he suggested.
“…Fine,” she agreed, nodding. It was hard to outright reject such a polite proposal. Damian gave her a faint, relieved smile before leaving.
Once he was gone, Aracila sank into deep thought, alone.
The time for divorce has come already.
She’d been so focused on bringing down Frederick and the Vandemir Dukedom that she hadn’t planned for what would come after. Now, it seemed, she needed to make that plan.
Aracila turned inward, carefully examining her own desires. The situation now was entirely different from when Damian had first brought up divorce. Back then, she’d felt compelled to stay by his side, but now? Now, she knew Damian would be fine without her.
Their marriage had fulfilled its mutual needs and purposes. If they parted ways now, their two years together would remain a beautiful memory, but…
I don’t want to let go of Damian.
Even if he no longer needed her, Aracila didn’t want a divorce. Her love for him wasn’t born out of necessity. There had been a time when she’d seriously considered divorce for the sake of her own future, but now that idea seemed absurd.
There was no rule saying love and ambition couldn’t coexist.
Her resolve grew stronger. She didn’t know how Damian felt, but she was done hiding or abandoning her emotions.
No way. I’ll either convince him not to divorce or propose we date after it’s done.
But first, there was something she had to do—tie up loose ends with the only person who knew about their contract marriage.
The doors of the Hugo Marquisate never seemed to close, with a steady stream of visitors coming to check on Aracila’s health. Friends from high society, like Pola, mingled with members of the Magic Tower, taking turns to visit. Among the nobles, the highest-ranking was the Archduchess of Keystone; among the mages, it was Philip, the Master of the Magic Tower.
Philip himself came to the Hugo Marquisate to see his ailing apprentice, despite her limited mobility.
“Ho ho ho! Aracila, how’s your health?” he asked warmly.
“I’m doing alright, Master. Thank you for your concern,” she replied, now recovered enough to leave her bed and sit on a sofa to greet him.
Philip stroked his beard and said, “In all my years, I’ve never had an apprentice as eventful as you.”
“Is that so?” she asked with a faint smile.
“Ho ho! If you were my child, my heart would’ve turned to ash by now. Haven’t you heard that before?”
“Since I was little, it’s been drilled into me,” she quipped.
Philip let out a hearty laugh before taking a sip of tea. Setting the cup down silently, he spoke in a gentler tone. “You look like you have something to say. Don’t hold back—speak your mind.”
“…I can never hide anything from you, can I?” Aracila said with a wry chuckle, caught off guard as she’d been mulling over how to broach the subject. Straightening up, she adopted a serious expression and began.
“Do you remember what you told me once? That the human heart is more powerful than any magic?”
“Aye, I did,” Philip replied, his eyes glinting as he recalled the moment. “I said that when you told me you’d divorce your husband once he inherited his title, didn’t I?”
Philip’s gaze shifted, studying her. The Aracila before him was different from the one back then. The arrogance of judging something she’d never experienced had vanished, replaced by the steady, tempered resolve of someone seasoned by life.
Testing her, he tossed out a baited remark. “Oh, speaking of which, I heard your husband’s become a duke. So, divorce is imminent, I take it?”
“No. I’m not going through with it,” she declared, her clear voice unwavering.
Philip stared at her quietly. Aracila met his gaze without flinching, speaking calmly. “I’m sorry for not keeping the promise I made to you, Master. But I no longer believe that loving someone will hold me back.”
“…You’ve changed, Aracila.”
“No, I’ve grown.”
She knew how audacious it was to say such a thing to her mentor, but she held her ground. She truly believed that her time with Damian had made her a better person.
“Even if I continue this marriage, I’ll never abandon the Magic Tower, and I’ll fulfill my duties as its future leader.”
Her voice carried a quiet strength, rooted in confidence—a far cry from the days when she thought love would ruin her ambitions.
“If you think I’m unreliable for going back on my word and want to revoke my position as your successor, I’ll accept it without complaint,” she continued. “And then I’ll prove myself again to reclaim it.”
Aracila’s words were calm but resolute, laying bare her ambitions. Philip listened in silence, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
Over the years, he’d lost many female apprentices to marriage. He didn’t resent or blame them for choosing their own paths, but it pained him nonetheless. Staying at the Magic Tower and building a career could have been a lifelong asset for them, yet whether by choice or circumstance, they’d left.
He’d wanted to protect Aracila from that fate, to keep her from walking the same path. It was selfish, perhaps, but he couldn’t help it—not after seeing so many leave against their will.
What he’d overlooked, however, was that avoiding risk didn’t guarantee safety. True strength came not from evasion but from facing challenges head-on and overcoming them.
And that’s exactly what Aracila does best.
Having seen his apprentice’s resolve, it was time for Philip, as her mentor, to make his stance clear. Stroking his thick, white beard, he parted his lips.
“Aracila, even if your sham marriage turns real, there’ll be no change to your position as my successor.”
“…Truly?”
“I didn’t choose you as the next Master of the Magic Tower because of your marital status. It was your dazzling talent and achievements that decided it.”
Yet, in the past, he had wavered about Aracila’s marriage—not out of doubt in her ability, but because he believed that without unshakable confidence, she’d be better off sticking to her original plan. But now, seeing her newfound resolve, stronger than ever, Philip had no reason to hold her back.
“If you’re determined to steer your life toward greater happiness, how could I, as your mentor, stand in your way?”
“Master…”
Aracila gazed at Philip, her face softened with emotion. His response, warmer than she’d anticipated, made her heart swell with a tender warmth.
Sipping his tea with a hearty slurp, Philip offered the congratulations he hadn’t yet given.
“Well then, it’s about time I wished you well on your marriage. Congratulations, Aracila. May you build a happy home.”
“Thank you, Master. But, while this is how I feel, I don’t know what Damian’s choice will be. We might still end up divorcing.”
“Oh?”
“But even so, I won’t hide my heart anymore. Whether it’s love or ambition, don’t you have to seize it for yourself?”
Aracila flashed a bright smile, and for a moment, Philip saw the spirited, bold young girl she’d once been overlaid in her expression.
“Ho ho ho! You’ve grown up well,” he murmured, chuckling with satisfaction. Warm sunlight poured through the window, bathing master and apprentice in its glow. It was a light that seemed to wash away any lingering worries.
Over the next week, Aracila poured her efforts into recovering her health. She diligently took the special restorative tonic Rudy had prepared, drinking it three times a day.
By the time the promised day arrived, she was well enough to venture outside. She wasn’t supposed to overexert herself, but the newfound ease of movement was more than enough.
“Audrey, will you dress me up to match the spring?”
“Of course, my lady! Leave it to me!”
At the news of her mistress and master’s date, Audrey’s eyes sparkled as she rolled up her sleeves with enthusiasm. Under her passionate touch, Aracila was transformed into a vision of springtime. Clad in a vibrant yellow dress, she looked like a blooming rapeseed flower in full glory. With a lace-trimmed parasol in hand, she stepped out of the house.
Her destination was the training grounds of the Red Hawk Knights. The knights, lined up in formation for their drills, spotted her leisurely arrival and greeted her with warm bows. Among the familiar faces, Isaac bounded forward with particular energy.
“My lady! What brings you here?”
“I’m here to see Damian. I let him know in advance—where is he?”
As Aracila scanned the training grounds, Isaac waved a hand dismissively. “The commander hasn’t come out yet. You’d be better off heading to his office…”
“Oh? Is my superior a bit lazy, then? Or perhaps he takes too many naps?”
Isaac’s eyes widened briefly at the familiar quip before he burst into hearty laughter. No wonder her appearance felt so nostalgic—it was reminiscent of the first time she’d come to meet Damian here. Unlike that initial encounter, when her boldness had sparked a fiery exchange, Isaac now cupped a hand to his mouth and whispered conspiratorially.
“Our commander can be a bit like that, you know. Please bear with him, my lady.”
“Alright, take me to him.”
“I’ll escort you promptly!”
With a playful wink, Isaac led her into the building. Though she knew the way by heart, Aracila followed with a shameless grin. Knocking on the office door and announcing her arrival with flair, Isaac left with a cheeky remark: “I’ll go make the men run five laps around the training grounds!”
Aracila stifled a laugh as she opened the door and stepped inside. Audrey, as before, stayed outside.
“You’re here, my lady,” Damian said, rising swiftly from the elegant sofa in his stately office to escort her. His touch was gentle, as if handling a delicate glass figurine.
“Careful now. If your wounds reopen or worsen, it’ll be trouble.”
“I’m past that point, so don’t worry,” Aracila replied, settling comfortably onto the sofa. Damian sat across from her, hesitating briefly before speaking.
“Have you sorted out your thoughts?”
“Yes, completely and clearly.”
“As have I.”
If they were both ready, there was no need to delay. Unwilling to drag out her feelings, Aracila opened her mouth to speak. “Damian, let’s—”
“Wait, please. I’d like to go first,” he interrupted, raising a hand. Though she wasn’t thrilled, his earnest gaze convinced her to nod reluctantly.
Taking a deep breath, Damian straightened his collar, sat up tall, and began slowly.
“Youngest Sword Master of the Empire and Commander of the Red Hawk Knights.”
“…?”
“Recently inherited the Vandemir Dukedom after dealing with traitors and capturing a murderer.”
“…What?”
“My family’s wealth, combined with my personal fortune, amounts to roughly several hundred billion gold.”
Aracila’s bewildered expression gradually shifted as realization dawned. These were the exact words she’d used to pitch their marriage to him. Noticing her recognition, Damian’s ears flushed red, but he pressed on without pausing.
“And, though it’s a bit awkward to say myself… ahem, an appearance that’s never been poorly received.”
“….”
“Don’t you think that’s reason enough to keep me as your husband?”
His attempt at a confident smile faltered as his lips trembled with embarrassment. Overwhelmed with shyness, he ducked his head. Aracila, watching this unfold up close, felt her lips twitch as she fought back laughter.
Rubbing the back of his flushed neck, Damian lifted his gaze to meet hers and said softly, “I love you, Aracila.”
At his first direct confession, Aracila froze. A rush of heat surged through her, coloring her face, ears, and neck.
“You said you want to become Master of the Magic Tower, didn’t you? I’ll support you splendidly.”
“….”
“I’ll be so clever, handsome, and devoted that you’ll think it impossible to find a better husband. So please, reconsider the divorce.”
Rising, Damian knelt at her feet and presented a small box. Inside was the wedding ring they’d once exchanged without love. Somehow, he’d brought her ring, and with solemn sincerity, he asked, “I love you. Will you marry me? If you accept this proposal, I’ll take it as your answer regarding the divorce.”
Aracila, momentarily speechless, looked down at him. The golden eyes that had once been cold now gazed at her with tender longing.
Damian couldn’t hide his nervousness, his throat dry and palms sweaty as he awaited her response. After a long pause, Aracila spoke.
“Before you left for battle, you asked me why I went to such lengths for you. I’ll tell you now.”
“….”
“Because I love you.”
Finally voicing the feelings she’d held back for so long, she felt a wave of relief. Aracila smiled, radiant and unburdened.
“I came here today to confess first and stop the divorce, but someone slyly beat me to it.”
Damian, staring up at her in a daze, slid the ring onto her finger with trembling hands. The rings they’d both removed after their wedding day found their rightful place once more.
Pulling her hand gently, he stood and murmured, almost like a sigh, “Being with you does all sorts of things to my heart.”
“Do you dislike it?”
“No. Use my heart however you like—just don’t set your sights on anyone else’s.”
“That goes without saying.”
Damian brushed a lock of her cascading hair behind her ear, his eyes locking with hers. Their shared desire to start anew in the place where it all began aligned perfectly. Holding her face, Damian whispered, his smile more radiant than ever, “I love you, Aracila.”
“I love you too, Damian.”
Aracila didn’t pull away as his face drew closer. Their lips met, soft and warm, their breaths sweet and intertwined. His large hand cradled her back, her slender arms wrapped around his waist.
Pulling apart briefly, they gazed at each other. Nose to nose, they smiled happily and kissed again.
And so, on a fine spring afternoon, they became a true husband and wife.
This was the end of the special contract marriage that had begun for mutual gain.
The End of a Special Contract Marriage – Final.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ✧: *. ꕥ .* :✧ﾟ. ───
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