Chapter 3
Duke Tristan Carlisle.
Even Eliana, who had never once set foot in high society, had occasionally overheard the people at the monastery whispering about the “terrifying Duke of Carlisle.”
The House of Carlisle was one of the empire’s founding noble families, though little remained of its former glory beyond its prestigious name. Its political influence had long since faded. The family’s current head was a young duke.
He was said to be the hidden son of the previous duke—a man who had supposedly died without an heir until his sudden, mysterious death brought this unknown child into the light.
Like the dukes before him, Tristan showed almost no interest in politics or noble society. Instead, he was obsessed with hunting monsters. Rumor claimed he spent every day drenched in monster blood, caring for nothing else.
“The duke’s household wishes to proceed as quickly as possible,” the Marquis Crowde said. “Though I certainly didn’t expect them to send the marriage contract already prepared.”
Still leaning against the window, he kept his eyes fixed outside as he continued.
“This may seem sudden, but you’ll have to marry someday. In that sense, it’s a fortunate match. They’re a ducal house, so you won’t be treated poorly. As for the wedding—”
“F-Father, please… just a moment.”
Eliana shot to her feet, interrupting him in panic.
The marquis despised being interrupted. His brows twitched as he slowly turned away from the window and looked at her.
Normally, that cold glare alone would have robbed her of her voice.
But not today.
“S-So… are you saying… I’m going to marry Duke Carlisle?”
“More accurately,” he corrected coolly, “you are getting married. I’ve already made the decision. I called you here merely to inform you of it.”
“I’ve never even met him.”
“I have.”
His dismissive, overbearing tone left her speechless.
“He unexpectedly attended the Founding Festival this year. We had ample opportunity to discuss the matter then. Since you interrupted me earlier, I’ll continue. We’ve decided to forgo the wedding ceremony. The duke suggested it first, and frankly, it’s for the best. The southern territories are suffering from severe drought this year. It isn’t an appropriate time to gather nobles for a lavish celebration.”
His words poured out one after another, leaving Eliana completely bewildered.
She had long passed the age of marriage, yet she’d never once participated in noble society. Aside from volunteering at the monastery, she had scarcely left the estate.
Why would anyone seek her hand in marriage?
Just then, a shrill voice drifted in through the open window.
A young woman was complaining loudly that mud had stained her dress.
A realization flashed through Eliana’s mind.
The Carlisle family possessed the honor of being one of the empire’s founding houses and held an ancient ducal title, but its lord was surrounded by unsettling rumors.
The Crowde family possessed vast lands and overflowing wealth, yet they had never once formed ties with the Carlisle household.
There was only one conclusion she could reach.
“…Is this… because of Cecilia?”
Miss Cecilia.
The treasured daughter of this estate.
Someone who lived in a completely different world from Eliana.
Anyone seeking a marriage alliance with House Crowde would naturally choose Cecilia.
Because of her father’s restrictions, Eliana had been forbidden from appearing in public since childhood. Most people didn’t even know she existed. And even if they did, who would choose an adopted girl—one rumored to be an illegitimate child—over the marquis’s beloved biological daughter?
No matter how infamous Duke Carlisle might be…
There was no way he would pass over Cecilia and propose to her instead.
“What exactly did you just ask?” the marquis replied, narrowing his eyes. “‘Instead of Cecilia?'”
His voice dripped with disbelief.
“Do you think I’m selling you off in Cecilia’s place? That I’m so desperate to gain a duke for a son-in-law?”
Eliana bit her lip.
If that wasn’t the reason…
Then what was?
She wanted to ask.
She wanted to demand an explanation.
But as always, her voice refused to come. Only her trembling hands betrayed her emotions.
The marquis stared at her for a long moment before speaking again.
“Believe it or not, the proposal was for you from the beginning. Every noble house requires an heir. House Carlisle is no exception. And as I’ve already said, you’re old enough to marry. I see no reason whatsoever to reject this proposal.”
Her strength drained away.
“Old enough to marry.”
The words sounded strangely foreign.
Since the day she had been adopted into House Crowde, her father had never once shown her affection or even the slightest concern.
Marriage?
It would have been more honest if he’d simply admitted he no longer wanted to keep her and had found a family willing to take her off his hands.
“That should answer all your questions. You may leave now. Sign the marriage contract and give it to Gilbert. You should begin packing your belongings. The duke intends to arrive sometime next week.”
Without waiting for a reply, the marquis sat behind his desk and calmly resumed reading his reports.
Eliana’s vision blurred with tears.
She hurried from the study, afraid they would spill over before she could reach her room.
As she rounded the corner of the hallway—
Thud!
She collided hard with someone.
The owner of that shrill voice she’d heard moments ago.
Cecilia Crowde.
“Watch where you’re going.”
Twisting a lock of her luxurious crimson hair around one finger, Cecilia glared at her.
“I almost fell because of you.”
Normally, Eliana would have apologized immediately.
Today…
She couldn’t.
Despair and anger twisted her face beyond recognition, yet she still couldn’t summon the courage to meet Cecilia’s eyes.
“Hah.”
Cecilia smirked.
“That’s quite the expression. Aren’t you going to apologize?”
She stepped closer, raising a hand as she always did whenever she intended to strike Eliana.
Then something bumped against her foot.
“Hm? What’s this?”
She bent down and picked up the bundle of papers that had fallen during their collision.
“…A marriage contract?”
Her eyes sparkled with amusement as she flipped through the pages.
“So the rumors were true.”
“You really are marrying that lunatic duke.”
A mocking smile spread across her lips.
“Pfft. What are you going to do now? They say that duke is obsessed with slaughtering monsters.”
Eliana lowered her head without saying a word.
Only her trembling lips betrayed her emotions.
“Well, I suppose he’s the perfect groom for someone like you. You can hide away in the North, cleaning up monster corpses for the rest of your life.”
She laughed softly.
“How fitting. Quiet. Gloomy. Just like you.”
Those cruel words shattered what little composure Eliana had left.
So Cecilia already knew.
“H-Have you… perhaps… spoken to Father about this?”
The question came out in a pitiful, trembling voice.
She hated herself for sounding so weak.
Cecilia frowned as though she couldn’t understand what she was hearing.
“What are you talking about?”
“What would I have told Father?”
“Your marriage?”
Of course.
If I take your place, they can finally get rid of me.
They can torment me until the day I die.
The words remained trapped inside her heart.
She couldn’t say them aloud.
She was too afraid of the slap that would surely follow.
Perhaps guessing what Eliana had left unsaid, Cecilia’s lips slowly curled into a cruel smile.
The expression alone made Eliana instinctively shrink back.
Then, just as suddenly, Cecilia’s face softened.
She smiled sweetly.
“You seem to be mistaken.”
She let out a quiet sigh.
“If you leave this house after getting married, I won’t be able to watch you suffer anymore.”
She smiled as though that were genuinely disappointing.
“And Eliana…”
She stepped close enough for her breath to brush Eliana’s ear.
Then whispered—
“It doesn’t matter whether trash like you stays in this house or leaves.”
“Not to me.”
“Not to anyone.”
With a cold laugh, Cecilia shoved Eliana aside and disappeared down the corridor.
The strength left Eliana’s legs.
She collapsed onto the floor as the tears she’d been holding back finally burst free.
She cried in silence for what felt like forever.
Not a single person in the mansion came to comfort her.
That night, the candle in Eliana’s room burned until dawn.
Early the next morning, she quietly called over a young messenger boy who had only recently begun working at the estate.
“I need you to deliver this letter.”
She placed an envelope into his hands.
“To Helio Monastery.”
“If you can get it there as quickly as possible… I’d be very grateful.”
The young servant knew little about the adults’ whispered gossip regarding House Crowde’s adopted daughter.
His eyes lit up when Eliana rewarded him with an expensive box of sweets.
Clutching both the treats and the letter, he hurried off toward the monastery.
“You’re volunteering at the monastery today?”
The Marchioness of Crowde didn’t even look up as she carefully selected flowers for the vase in the drawing room.
“Yes, Mother.”
Eliana clasped her trembling hands together so they wouldn’t shake.
“The monastery is preparing for the autumn harvest, and they’re terribly short on help. I couldn’t go last week, so it’s been weighing on my mind.”
She had deliberately skipped volunteering the previous week, pretending to be ill.
If she suddenly asked to visit the monastery twice in a row, someone might become suspicious.
“Hm. Do as you please.”
The marchioness answered indifferently.
“Once you leave for Carlisle, it will be your last time volunteering there anyway.”
“I’ll inform the coachman.”
“Thank you, Mother.”
The older woman finally glanced at her.
“You really are persistent.”
“Even when we’re alone, you insist on calling me ‘Mother.'”
“How disgustingly stubborn.”
The unexpected insult caused Eliana’s eyes to waver for only a moment.
Soon she lowered her head respectfully.
“Thank you.”
Without another word, she left the drawing room.
Back in her bedroom, she shut the door and took a long, steadying breath before opening her wardrobe.
The clothes inside were shabby—far too plain for the daughter of a marquis.
She selected the least noticeable dress she owned, a simple dark green one without any embroidery, then wrapped herself in a thick hooded cloak.
Next, she knelt beside her bed and pulled out a small hidden box.
From inside, she retrieved an ornate bundle that looked unmistakably expensive and tied it securely inside her cloak.
Cecilia’s emergency savings.
She had been secretly collecting the money for years.
The pouch was satisfyingly heavy.
Finally, Eliana gathered her long, pale golden hair—tinged faintly with silver—and tied it tightly into a single braid.
“…Phew.”
Standing before the mirror, she took one last deep breath.
Then, without another moment’s hesitation, she quietly made her way toward the mansion’s back gate.
