Episode 16

#5. The Wedding

The reception ended quicker than anticipated.

Since the ceremony had taken place in the morning, there was no way the sleep-loving nobles would remain alert until this hour. While a few couples were still dancing cheerfully, the overall mood had begun to wind down. Madam Noskina, mistress of the estate, personally saw the guests off with parting gifts.

The bride and groom, however, had long since disappeared into the mansion. In moments like this, the excuse of being “madly in love” came in handy. Everyone politely pretended not to notice when Marcus whispered slyly to Elouise, wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and led her inside.

Everyone must be going home now, imagining the fiery bed of a couple who married just a week after meeting each other.

With that thought, Elouise slumped her shoulders. The bed was anything but fiery—it was cold and lifeless. More accurately, it had been deliberately left untouched.

When Elouise first witnessed the room, she had nearly fainted. The bed in the center was simply enormous.

It appeared large enough for five adult men to lie down comfortably. On top of it was a beautifully arranged jacquard duvet with a rose pattern. The carved grapevines on the bedposts and inlaid reliefs were sensual, and the draped curtains matched the duvet set—truly a honeymoon bed fit for a loving couple.

And that’s exactly why Elouise wanted to die.

I could probably run laps on this thing…

That same thought crossed her mind now.

Having just been helped by the maids to take down her hair and change into a more comfortable negligee and robe, Elouise stood awkwardly in front of the bed. When she tried to remove her makeup, the maids had protested, “What are you doing, you're a new bride!” They insisted the groom would prefer to see her beautifully made-up.

Honestly, even if I painted my face like a clown, that man wouldn’t bat an eye…

Elouise felt uneasy as she thought of Marcus—specifically the way he’d acted during her conversation with the duchess earlier.

Even while Elouise and the duchess were speaking, Marcus had looked only at the duchess. To others, it might have seemed like a faint smile, but Elouise could see the truth.

If the duchess had asked him to marry her at that moment, Marcus would’ve fetched the bridal bouquet himself and placed it in her hands.

“What a grand love you have.”

“What is?”

It was then that Marcus entered the room. Elouise jumped in surprise, quickly turning around and pulling her robe tighter.

“Can’t you at least make some noise before coming in?!”

“Come now. This is also my room.”

“Still!”

“Were you doing something behind my back?”

Marcus grinned as he spoke. He seemed in high spirits. A sweet scent of sparkling wine wafted toward Elouise.

“You’ve been drinking?”

“A bit. Not enough to get drunk.”

He winked and unbuttoned the top of his blouse as though it were stifling.

“How was the wedding?”

“What do you mean, how was it…”

“It was your second wedding, wasn’t it? I’m curious about your thoughts.”

“I wouldn't call it a wedding. We just commenced the job in the noisiest way possible.”

Marcus raised an eyebrow in response.

“A job?”

“Yes. Like launching a ship, I suppose.”

The Hanger family owned several ships, so it didn't take long for Marcus to understood the metaphor. To Elouise, this day was nothing more than a launch ceremony for a ship bound for the open sea. In other words, not worth sentimentality.

“That’s a fair way to put it. Most couples see the wedding as the final hurdle, but our hurdles are just beginning.”

“Think whatever you want.”

Elouise replied coolly. Marcus noticed how tired she looked.

She had been on her feet all day. Though she’d worn a fur wrap over her dress to guard against the lingering chill, she must still feel cold.

“Why aren’t you in bed yet?”

At that, Elouise stared at him in disbelief. Marcus let out an exaggerated “Ah!” and then smiled wryly.

“I think you’re misunderstanding something. I’m sleeping on the sofa.”

Elouise’s eyes widened. They both turned simultaneously to look at the room’s seating area. The sofa—clearly a matching set with the bed—was adorned with the same grapevine carvings and shaped like a fan. It appeared just big enough for someone to curl up on—and wake up with a stiff neck.

“On that…?”

“Yes. That’s probably the best place for me.”

Though fan-shaped, the chair was broad enough for a grown man to lie down sideways. Elouise frowned, then spoke.

“…Do as you please.”

Marcus tilted his head and laughed, as if her response had been unexpected.

“Don’t people usually say something like, ‘The bed is huge—we can both sleep on opposite sides,’ at least once in situations like this?”

A shameless question. Elouise narrowed her eyes, crossed her arms, and snapped back at him.

“The first thing governesses teach noble girls of age is just how far men can go with their lust.”

“Ah…”

Marcus chuckled, rubbing his chin.

“Of course I was joking, but I did think someone as kind as you might say something like that. I like it.”

“…You like it?”

“Yes. I do.”

Marcus nodded with conviction.

“Among the women I’ve fallen for, there were smart ones, kind ones, even cold and rational ones. And though I always told them, ‘Let’s not love too long,’ they were kind to me—and eventually, they all loved me back.”

“How fortunate for you…”

Is he bragging about how popular he is? Elouise’s tone turned sarcastic. Marcus, however, just grinned.

“But you—you don’t seem like someone who’d ever fall for me. I think I’ve finally met someone I can’t charm.”

She was stunned. What, did he actually think she might fall for him?

Before she could respond, Marcus was already a step ahead. He suddenly leaned in and kissed her on the cheek, then just as quickly retreated to the sofa and lay down. Somehow, he had already snuggled into a blanket.

“Smiling at people all day is tiring. I’ll rest now.”

Unbelievable. Elouise glared at him. But the man had already closed his eyes. Perhaps it was the alcohol—he seemed to doze off almost immediately.

Elouise stared at him for a long while, then finally climbed into the bed. She tossed and turned, then reached out and extinguished the candle.

That was their wedding night.

Bland. Utterly absurd.

---

Madam Noskina found Elouise somewhat awkward.

Marcus had only introduced his bride to his aunt twice before the wedding, and both meetings had been brief. The two women had barely spoken.

In truth, Madam Noskina did not think the wedding would even take place. So when her nephew actually stood at the altar arm-in-arm with a woman in a white crochet gown, it felt like a dream.

Before the ceremony could end, Madam Noskina had slipped away, claiming she needed rest. She felt like she might collapse.

But her troublesome nephew had insisted on holding the reception in her garden. Unable to shirk her duties as hostess, the old woman was forced to return—and that’s when she heard Elouise speak in Toulous.

It was exquisite. Refined. Nobility incarnate.

Madam Noskina had long been self-conscious about her own poor command of Toulous. Understandably so—she had come from a common family. She hadn’t learned the language until after marrying into nobility. In fact, had Lord Noskina not fallen for her at first sight, the marriage never would have happened.

So she immediately liked Elouise—but also felt pity for her. How had such an elegant woman come to lose her husband? And why had she agreed to such a sudden marriage with her foolish nephew?

The murmurs around the reception were loud enough for her to hear:

“How did a woman like her end up with someone like Marcus Hanger?”

“Shh. I heard she’s a widow.”

“Still, she hit the jackpot. A widow marrying into the Hanger family?”

“Maybe the Hangers just needed a decorative wife.”

“Well, she’s not exactly stunning…”

Madam Noskina’s expression hardened. She knew these conversations well. She’d heard the same whispers behind her own back when she married into the Noskina line at twenty. Back then, the Hangers weren’t nearly as powerful, and the insults had been worse.

And that duchess—how smug she’d been. Madam Noskina was irritated.

Duchess Bellona had strolled in from the woods and tossed vague barbs at Elouise. But Elouise had responded like true nobility, calmly deflecting every jab.

Madam Noskina respected that. Back when she was young, she wouldn’t have done better than mutter “That’s not true” or blush silently.

Still, she kept her expression stern. Her opinion of Elouise had shifted, though every-so slightly. But just because the bride had handled one unpleasant evening with grace didn’t mean she’d earned her trust.

I’ll be watching her from now on, she thought.

And then she spoke.

“Elouise. I’ll call you that from now on.”

“Yes.”

“At the very least, Elouise, I hope your choice proves right for you. That would be best for all of us.”

“Yes…”

At that moment, a horse neighed outside. Both women instinctively turned toward the terrace window. Beyond the sunlit glass, the carriages of departing nobles lined the drive.

It was common in Cliff, a small city, for guests to leave their carriages at their respective estate and ride home on borrowed horses. The largest carriage among them belonged, of course, to the duchess.

“That woman’s horses are also noisy as well… I can’t believe such a harlot set foot in the Noskina estate.”

There was no doubt she meant the duchess. Elouise glanced at the older woman. Madam Noskina shook her head and added,

“At least I’ll no longer have to watch Marcus playing around with her.”

“Yes…”

“Go get some rest. We’ll dine together this evening. And next time we speak, I’ll be less formal.”

“Yes. Thank you.”

Elouise stood and offered a graceful bow. Madam Noskina narrowed her eyes and returned a slow nod.

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