Duke of the Beast and the Vicarious Bride - Chapter 8

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

If not an old man, perhaps he was a man of dreadful temper and violence. The way the Count looked at her, as if she were willingly walking into a deathtrap, suggested he must be an utterly worthless piece of refuse.

As long as he didn’t actually try to kill her, taking a few beatings now and then would be manageable. But if he drove her mad and she happened to stab her husband in a fit of pique… well, that couldn’t be helped. A woman who killed her husband would be straight to the gallows, wouldn’t she? The Count’s conditions hadn’t included anything about not murdering one’s spouse, so even if that came to pass, Rose would likely be safe.

* * *

Because the Count had failed to properly answer her question, it was only several days later that Fiona learned the truth about the Grand Duke.

“Your future husband is a beast.”

Jayden Troyes, who had come to see her for some reason, had tossed out this remark without preamble. Fiona, suffering under the torture that masqueraded as bridal training, scowled fiercely at the appearance of her half-brother. His face was as obnoxious as ever.

“A beast? So he has a shitty personality, then?”

But curious for information, Fiona feigned indifference and inquired further. Ordinarily, she would have brandished a knife and screamed at Jayden to get lost the moment he spoke, but trussed up as she was in satin ribbons and silk dresses, that was not an option.

“No, I mean it literally: a beast lacking not only reason but even intelligence. Of course, his outward appearance mimics that of a human, but no one truly knows what he is.”

Jayden, chattering away as if he were having the time of his life, seemed thoroughly amused by her predicament. Fiona strove not to rise to his obvious provocation and replied nonchalantly.

“According to you, His Majesty the Emperor bestowed a title as grand as Grand Duke upon some idiot of unknown origin?”

At her pointed remark, the amusement faded slightly from his face.

“There were… circumstances that warranted it.”

Fiona snorted at his feeble-sounding answer.

“Have you seen this man yourself?”

“Seen him? I did more than that. Until recently, I was with him, sweeping away the monsters in the north.”

Having answered thus far, Jayden suddenly tilted his head and gazed quietly at Fiona.

“Quite curious about your marriage partner, aren’t you?”

His disgustingly handsome face drew close to hers. Then a sticky whisper slid into her ear.

“Ah, could it be that the thought of a beastly man actually excites you? Is your body trembling at the prospect of the wedding night?”

At Jayden’s words, murmured too softly for the maids to hear, Fiona looked at him with an expression of utter disgust, the same one she wore when cleaning filth-encrusted pig intestines. Men, it seemed, whether this one or that one, had nothing but filth filling their heads.

“Even without your yapping, I’m already on the verge of vomiting, so kindly f**k off.”

“Oh dear, such a foul mouth on a new bride. And here your brother comes, worried for his sister on the eve of her marriage, to offer encouragement. Don’t be so harsh.”

Jayden Troyes had always been like this, ever since they were children. This half-brother, born only a few months before her, would sometimes come to the butcher’s shop and observe Fiona’s life, mired in mud and filth, as if watching an animal in a cage.

Some days he would regard her with cold indifference, as if she were a stranger wholly unconnected to him. Other days he would pick a quarrel, his gaze filled with hatred as if she were his bitterest enemy. What whims drove this pampered nobleman’s son, with his full belly and warm hearth, she could not say, but whatever the reason, one thing was certain: he was an absolute bastard.

“If you truly can’t go through with it, you could always go crying to Father and plead your case. Who knows? Perhaps if you attempted suicide, like that other young lady, he might let you off.”

Now he had sunk so low as to suggest she kill herself. She had thought he might have come to say something important, but it was all worthless drivel.

“Just. F**k. Off.”