Chapter 40

The banquet hall, with its towering ceiling that evoked a grand cathedral, was dominated by a golden chandelier cascading down from above. The enormous rectangular table placed at the center gleamed dazzlingly, its shine coming from dozens of silver utensils and crystal glasses reflecting the chandelier’s light. Considering that there were only five attendees, the spread prepared for the meal was excessively lavish.

As she walked into the hall, Blair kept swallowing dryly. Perhaps her trembling carried over to the man standing beside her, because Edmund glanced down at her.

“There’s no need to be nervous.”

His low whisper fell close to her ear.

“Just act as you usually do.”

As usual. Repeating his words silently, she matched her steps to his. Shifting her gaze from surveying the banquet hall, she fixed her eyes on the person seated at the head of the table.

Seated in a chair that rose upward like a throne was William Libert. A great noble whose name Blair had heard countless times since she was a girl living in northern Glassford, and the Duke who headed the House of Libert. The closer she drew to him, the faster her heart began to pound. To the right of the seat of honor sat Duchess Isabelle, and beside her was a young man who bore a striking resemblance to her. Blair was certain he was Edmund’s half-brother, Rufus Libert.

“Father.”

When they reached the table, Edmund bowed his head toward William.

“I’d like to formally introduce her. This is the young lady I’m engaged to, Lady Blair Twyford.”

Seen up close, William Libert looked clearly unwell, appearing at least twenty years older than his actual age. Even so, the sharp contours of his face still retained traces of the handsome features he must have had in his youth.

With eyes dark as water mist and an overall resemblance that was striking, father and son looked so alike that even if society whispered about Edmund being illegitimate, no one could dare doubt his bloodline.

“It’s an honor to meet you, Your Grace. I’m Blair of the House of Twyford.”

“So, a daughter of the Twyford family….”

Murmuring slowly, the Duke of Libert looked Blair over. It was a gaze heavy with unmistakable appraisal.

“You’ve come a long way. Please, take your seat.”

“Thank you, Your Grace.”

Once permission was given, a servant stepped forward and pulled out a chair for her. Edmund took the seat to the left of the place of honor, and Blair sat beside him. Directly across from her, Rufus stared intently at her.

“Don’t be so tense. Sit comfortably and just listen. Today is a gathering of family only.”

Unlike before, Isabelle greeted Blair warmly with a smile. Looking at the Duchess’s carefully adorned face, perfected by makeup and that smile, Blair returned a small one of her own.

“Thank you for your consideration, Duchess. And… Lord Libert.”

After hesitating over how to address Rufus and settling on that, Rufus let out a snort.

“How interesting. Hearing the word ‘family’ come from Mother’s mouth.”

“Rufus.”

“Anyway, welcome. You’re the young lady of Twyford, was it?”

“…Yes, that’s correct.”

“If there’s one thing you should know about our house, it’s this. Since ancient times, the Libert dinner table has been called a table of fate. It means that only those who shoulder great weight are allowed to sit here. As my mother says, please try to make yourself comfortable.”

Despite Isabelle’s subtle gesture to restrain him, Rufus continued speaking with a crooked grin. Once meant to inherit the ducal title, the path cut off from him, his sense of inferiority toward Edmund had grown so strong that even at the first meeting with his brother’s fiancée, his rudeness knew no bounds.

“If that’s the case, then my fiancée deserves respect equal to that weight as well.”

The low voice from the seat beside her drew everyone’s attention.

“She’s someone who’ll take on the name of Libert too, isn’t she? As the future duchess.”

“You… what are you…!”

“That’s enough.”

The frail duke’s voice settled over the wide table.

“Everyone sitting here understands the weight carried by the family name. Since the family has gathered after so long, shall we begin with a toast?”

The waiting servants stepped forward and poured wine into each glass. Instead of alcohol, William’s glass was filled with an herbal tea that gave off a strong medicinal scent. Lifting it, the Duke cast a sideways glance at Edmund.

“Perhaps it’s the potent ingredients, but whenever I drink this, I certainly feel better.”

“I’m glad to hear that. I instructed Benjamin to prepare a tea that would primarily help ease your pain.”

“Yes. At this point, what I need isn’t a cure, but a painkiller.”

The Duke’s clouded eyes shifted to Blair seated beside him. She straightened her back a little more as she sipped her drink.

“I have only two sons, and they’ve troubled me for many years. I trust Lady Twyford understands what the greatest act of unfilial conduct is for a noble.”

“….”

“To see my second son, who hadn’t settled down even at twenty-six, hastily announce an engagement. How pleased do you think I was? And yet, to learn that the partner was a young lady who had already once discussed marriage with another family… I couldn’t hide my surprise.”

Blair quietly held her breath. Since Edmund didn’t step in, she also said nothing.

“Still, leaving a grown son unmarried is an even greater worry. I want to see the Libert bloodline continue before my life comes to an end.”

“…I’m glad to think I can ease that worry as well.”

When Blair replied that way, Edmund naturally added, “Lady Twyford is more than worthy of carrying on the ducal name. I’ll hold the ceremony without delay and fulfill my duty as a son, Father.”

“But, honey.”

A gentle voice cut in. It was Isabelle.

“Edmund said he’d hold a private wedding as soon as this Wednesday, but that’s excessive. A wedding is an important rite that upholds the family’s dignity. Relatives abroad have already heard the news. Shouldn’t we wait until everyone can gather?”

“If we delay the ceremony waiting for all relatives, we’ll only waste unnecessary time. Especially my great uncle, who’s advanced in age. Even traveling in and out of the country would be a burden for him.”

Edmund, seeing through Isabelle’s attempt to delay the wedding, questioned her sharply.

“Isn’t establishing the legitimacy of the heir just as important as the family’s reputation?”

Isabelle’s hand gripping the wine glass turned pale. As silence fell, she looked back and forth between Edmund and Blair.

“I’m very curious what you value more right now. It seems to me that the reason you’re rushing the wedding isn’t solely for the family’s future.”

“Mother, if I had any ulterior motive, I wouldn’t have ignored the marriage proposal with Marquis Archibald’s daughter in the first place.”

If he were pursuing political ambition, he would’ve chosen a bride who strengthened his position. Instead, he’d bypassed the easy path and brought in a woman from a small northern territory who already had a fiancé, so the Duchess couldn’t help but be confused.

Lifting his glass, Edmund raised the corners of his lips and declared, “The reason I chose Lady Twyford is solely because of love. For the love that has taken root between us, I simply wish to hurry a wedding ceremony that’s little more than empty formality.”

It was a statement open to many interpretations, and ripples spread through Isabelle’s blue eyes. Rufus’s face twisted like crumpled paper, while Blair could only keep her mouth shut, unsure how to react. Only the Duke’s eyes, those of a man standing at the threshold of death, gleamed vividly.

“Love. If that, too, can serve as a reason for securing an heir, then it’s welcome. Even if not all relatives can gather, proceed with the ceremony without delay.”

“Of course, Father.”

Edmund answered his father’s order and clinked glasses with him. The clear sound of glass striking glass rang through the banquet hall. Yet the only ones who drank the toast were the duke and Edmund, the two of them alone.

***

Thus ended Blair’s first day in Eldenvale. Spending the night alone in an unfamiliar bedroom wasn’t particularly difficult for her. What kept her awake was the vague sense of tomorrow.

Whenever she thought of a future that was unbearably uncertain and a man she couldn’t fully grasp, her chest tightened on cue, making it hard to fall asleep.

She’d thought that once the wedding was over, she’d have crossed the most difficult hurdle, but she sensed this was only the beginning. That was because all of the Duke’s attention was fixed on producing an heir.

The highest authority of the family clung so persistently to preserving the bloodline, yet Edmund had said he’d no intention of having children with her.

Then how did he plan to evade that pressure and still claim the title? Unable to read his thoughts, Blair couldn’t help but feel uneasy.