Western Region, on the day Estelle attempted silent suicide.
Crack!
A man stood tall, his foot crushing the head of a monster as large as a house.
Though the surroundings had been utterly devastated, his outfit remained perfectly neat, not a single wrinkle out of place.
His expression was emotionless, completely devoid of feeling.
He was a man whose flawless appearance offered no weaknesses to exploit — as if he wouldn't even permit anyone to touch him.
Lennox Winterlen.
With sharp crimson eyes, he surveyed the area.
What was once a pleasant village had been reduced to scorched earth.
The valley stream, once clean enough to drink from, was now blackened with demonic energy, and the ground was tainted with it like puddles scattered across the terrain.
There were no longer any traces of life to be found here.
"Duke Winterlen! All the monsters in the vicinity have been confirmed eliminated!"
At that moment, his adjutant, Pippin, shouted from below.
Lennox gave a nod and lightly leapt down from a height easily five times his own.
"Let us return to the capital."
"Huh? You're not going to rest?"
"There's no time for that."
Pippin's face paled at the resolute reply.
Duke Winterlen had spent a full three days subjugating monsters without sleeping even once.
'And yet he doesn't show a single sign of fatigue. He really is a monster.'
Grumbling, Pippin carefully avoided stepping in the demonic energy as he went to inform the other knights.
"You mean right now?"
"Yes. It's the Duke's command."
"Hah! Does he think we're monsters like him? We're just regular humans!"
Some reacted with outrage at the news.
"What can we do? We weren't much help with the subjugation anyway."
Others responded with resignation.
Contact with demonic energy meant instant death.
Monsters formed from demonic energy were equally dangerous.
But there was one exception.
The people of the Winterlen family.
That was also why Lennox, the current head of the Winterlen ducal house, had taken the lead in this operation.
"Tch. There's a reason people call the Winterlens demons."
Winterlen.
They were cursed by the gods.
A lifespan several times that of normal humans.
Superior physical abilities.
A constitution immune to demonic energy.
All of it was granted through the gods' curse—making them no different from monsters.
"Honestly, there's no need to rush back like this."
The knights, exhausted after three full days without rest, naturally began to grumble in frustration.
It was then—
—that Lennox suddenly came to a halt.
'Eek!'
'Did he hear us?'
The knights all fell silent at once.
But Lennox's gaze wasn't directed at them.
It was fixed somewhere within the corrupted landscape, engulfed in demonic energy.
"There's someone alive."
"Pardon? That can't be. This entire area is covered in demonic energy—there's no way any living being could survive..."
The only beings who could survive contact with demonic energy were those of Winterlen blood.
Without offering any explanation, Lennox stepped forward, striding confidently through the miasma.
Then he reached out toward a thick, black pool of demonic energy.
Sluuurp—
Lennox pulled something out from the pool.
It was a child—so small she looked to be around five years old at most.
Though her body was drenched in demonic energy, it was still clear she was human.
"As I thought."
Haaah, haaah.
The child was unconscious, her body limp.
But from the faint, steady rhythm of her breathing, she was still alive.
Lennox held her up by the nape of her neck, and for a moment, the corner of his lips curled upward. It was a faint, unreadable smile—strangely ominous in nature.
"Duke, that child…"
Pippin couldn't hide his astonishment.
But what Lennox said next was even more shocking.
"I'll take her in as my heir."
"What?"
Did I just hear that correctly?
"W-Wait a moment, Duke! If you're doing this because of the imperial pressure over the succession issue, this is far too impulsive a decision!"
A child wasn't an object.
She couldn't just be picked up off the street and taken home as if that were the end of it.
Pippin desperately tried to stop him, but Lennox had already made up his mind.
"First, I'll need to find a wife."
According to imperial law, one had to be legally married for at least a year to adopt a child.
Since he was still unmarried, that meant he now needed a one-year contractual wife.
Estelle was wearing a white wedding dress that didn't quite fit her.
A gown that hadn't even been properly tailored.
She held a bouquet woven from pale lavender and white baby's breath.
"This was from my first wedding…"
She immediately realized—it was a dream.
Her husband had been an old man, old enough to have grandchildren older than her.
He didn't even attend his own wedding, citing mobility issues.
It had been Estelle's first marriage, but for him, it was his third—so it likely meant nothing to him emotionally.
[Estelle. Age is just a number. He's the best candidate among your suitors, so make it work.]
That's what Count Bellonsa had told her.
At the time, Estelle had been fifteen years old.
There had been no one to oppose the marriage.
"It was decided not long after my biological mother's funeral."
Right after she took the marriage vows alone—without even a groom present—the scene shifted to the moment just before the bridal chamber.
The Count said he was a decent man.
It'll be fine.
She must have repeated that to herself countless times.
But it had been meaningless.
Because the moment she entered the bridal chamber, she realized—it was not fine at all.
[Another one… A young and beautiful bride, once again.]
When her so-called husband opened his mouth, the scent of decay wafted out. He smelled less like a person and more like dried wood.
[N-No! I don't want this!]
After seeing his withered, haggard face, Estelle desperately wished—
—that this marriage had never happened.
And that wish came true, in the most unexpected way.
"No…!"
Estelle opened her eyes.
She had awoken from a terrible nightmare.
Had it not been for the timely knock knock at the door, she might not have been able to escape the lingering grip of that nightmare.
"Lady Estelle, you must prepare for the banquet."
That's right. Today was the day of the imperial banquet.
Recalling that fact, Estelle quickly wiped her damp eyes.
No matter how much she wiped, it felt like the tears kept welling up.
Hopefully my eyes won't look swollen.
She had to be the most beautiful woman there tonight.
"Come in."
At Estelle's words, the maids poured into the room.
They washed her as if preparing a bride for her wedding day.
Normally, she would never dream of having a full bath attended by maids. But since she would be appearing before many people, she couldn't afford to look like the disgrace of the Bellonsa family.
The most beautiful woman in the Empire.
She had to live up to the rumors that swirled around high society.
Soaking in rose-scented bathwater, Estelle didn't have to lift a finger—yet the experience couldn't have felt more uncomfortable.
Whether I die within a year as fate has decided or not… this will probably be the last time I prepare for marriage.
After stepping out of the warm bath, drying herself, and changing clothes, she sat in front of the dressing table.
Then, she faced the reflection in the mirror.
Long, luscious pink hair.
Striking golden eyes.
Any man who had seen her, even once, praised her beauty, saying she resembled the blossom of a hanbob flower.
But the woman in the mirror looked anything but a spring flower—she was dry and brittle, like the dead of winter.
She seemed especially lifeless, perhaps due to the weariness on her face or the anxious glint in her eyes.
Cough, cough.
It happened while her hair was being styled.
The cough came out of nowhere.
Estelle hastily covered her mouth with her hand—and froze when she saw the red stains left on her palm.
"Blood?"
Lowering her hand, Estelle looked into the mirror and noticed blood smeared near her lips as well.
"Milady!"
She wasn't the only one who was startled.
The maids rushed to fetch a handkerchief.
"I'm just feeling unwell today, that's all. It's nothing serious—don't tell the Count."
If word of this reached the Count, he might forbid her from attending the banquet.
"As long as the blood's wiped off, the makeup should go on without a problem, right?"
"Y-Yes, that's true, but…"
Estelle wiped her hand roughly with the handkerchief, then grabbed a handful of accessories from the vanity.
"Then there's nothing more to worry about."
"…Understood, milady."
Only after she handed them the accessories did the maids finally nod in reluctant agreement.
The maids quickly wiped the blood from Estelle's lips and returned to focusing on her appearance.
"All done, milady."
Thanks to the powder and blush, her lifeless face now looked faintly rosy.
Though the melancholy in her eyes remained, no one would likely notice—too distracted by her dazzling beauty.
The preparations that had begun at dawn were finally completed by sunset.
Estelle straightened her staggering steps, pretending to walk normally.
She had always been frail, but ever since her attempted silent suicide, she was in a state where collapsing at any moment wouldn't be surprising.
Even small movements exhausted her more than before, and the blood in her coughs wasn't just due to physical weakness.
Clenching her eyes shut, Estelle recalled a line from Vera in one of her books:
[Ah, my sister... She died of an incurable disease.]
If her guess was right, she had about a year left.
She was now a terminal patient with little time remaining.
Pressed for time, Estelle quickly made her way toward the carriage that would take her to the Imperial Palace.
And then, she froze when she saw the man waiting for her.