Duke of the Beast and the Vicarious Bride - Chapter 12

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※ This work contains depictions of coercive relationships, explicit language, and other graphic content. Reader discretion is advised.

Throughout the entire exchange, the Emperor never once glanced in Fiona’s direction. Today’s audience seemed little more than inspecting the appearance of a cow meant to calve. No, in some respects, it was an even more perfunctory procedure.

Now Fiona understood her role with perfect clarity. The meaning of “producing an heir” finally sank into her very flesh. She was a broodmare. To receive the stallion’s seed, bear a foal, and then witness with her own eyes that foal being exploited by greedy human hands…

‘But even knowing this, what can I do now?’

After the piercing realisation came the familiar resignation. Fiona had lived her life simply submitting to a fate she could never escape, no matter how she struggled. Having bound herself with the Pact, she could not refuse the marriage. She finally understood why the Count had so readily agreed to it. He needed her for his plans.

After all, a life that had flowed in one direction since birth could not suddenly change its course. Fiona’s life had always been this way. And so she knew all too well: no matter how she wailed and suffered, it only delighted the fate that tormented her.

In her younger days, she had sometimes expected that true happiness might yet visit her unfortunate life. But even that faith had long since faded. In a despair that bordered on exhaustion, Fiona calmly accepted reality. The arrow had been loose; there was no turning back.

Several days later, leaving behind the Count and Countess and Joséphine, who bestowed upon her false smiles and tears, Fiona boarded the carriage bound for the north.

“Rose, take care. I’ll come for you as soon as I’m settled. Understood?”

As if sealing that promise, Fiona hung their mother’s locket—the one Rose had worn on the day she first came—back around her sister’s neck. Whether from fancy, Rose’s expression seemed to twist, as if she did not want the locket. Fury at this unwanted separation from her sister surged anew, but she barely managed to calm herself.

Gazing with pity at her sister, whose appearance was far improved from their butcher’s shop days, Fiona at last departed the Count’s domain. The great carriage was comfortable, the soft cushions luxurious, but her mind remained adrift, restlessly wandering.

Fiona, lost in thought, shook herself awake. Before her, the monotonous landscape continued. Endless frozen plains, white and icebound; a cold so harsh it threatened life itself. This place seemed a cursed land, one where even the sun could not bear to linger and departed all too soon.

Could humans truly live in this desolate realm, so clearly determined to reject them?

It was a question she had asked herself dozens of times since entering the north, but unfortunately, the Grand Duchy did indeed exist, and she now had to survive here. The journey to their destination, the ancient castle, had barely two days remaining. The carriage bearing the beast’s bride sped on, relentless, across the snowfields.

* * *

Black and pointed.

That was Fiona’s first thought upon beholding the ancient castle. The spires, soaring as if to pierce the bright rising moon, were sharp as spear points, heedless of the sky’s height. For all its lack of beauty, its scale was immense; the main keep and outbuildings together might rival the Imperial Palace she had recently seen.

But unlike that glittering edifice, this castle, abandoned to the ages, exuded only a bleak and desolate atmosphere. This black, hideous fortress, which would not seem amiss as a monster’s lair, was now to be her home.

“…”

Displeased with this first impression of her new dwelling, Fiona pressed her lips tightly together.

Well, what did I expect? A paradise where fairies dance? As she chided herself, she sensed Jayden Troyes approaching. Her already frayed nerves bristled further.

“Welcome to Aquileia Grand Ducal Castle, Fiona.”

He approached with a smarmy smile and offered insincere greetings. Irked by his pretense of being the castle’s master, Fiona turned her head away, ignoring his welcome.