I Had No Complaints About This Marriage - Chapter 5

Since imperial law had shifted to condemn child marriages for various reasons, most nobles nowadays at least sought partners who had reached adulthood. It had become customary to wait until one’s betrothed came of age if they were still minors.

But apparently, the Empire’s foremost ducal house, the Telloiens, couldn’t be bothered with such trivialities as imperial law.

The truly shocking statement came next.

“A house’s authority rests on its succession. You know this well.”

“Why bring up heirs so suddenly—”

“Do your best.”

Ignoring Herman’s hardening expression, the Duke laid bare his ambitions.

“I’ve heard girls mature quickly these days. Wait just six more years, and—”

“You’ve truly lost your mind.”

“Herman!”

Herman stormed out without another word. Six years added to six still only made twelve—barely academy enrollment age.

Disgust twisted his gut, unbearable even as mere speculation.

‘I’d have accepted it more humbly if he’d outright told me to raise the child myself.’

That, at least, he might have grudgingly endured.

“This is all for the family, you ungrateful wretch!”

But the Duke meant every word. Here was a man trying to hold back a collapsing dam with a single finger, fighting to warp the unstoppable tide of change. No—his entire house was like this.

Only then did Herman realize.

The freedom he’d been given was merely borrowed – a leash long enough to let him do even the most insane things, all to maintain the prestige of the highest ducal house. A life lived not for himself, but for the Telloien name.

Herman, who’d never cared for others’ opinions in his life, finally arrived at a cold, calculated conclusion with perfect calm.

‘I’ll have to get disowned.’

Thus he needed that kind of wife.

One who’d make him a married man overnight while being such a disastrous match that his family would oppose it to death. A bride so unacceptable they’d rather discard even the young duke himself than acknowledge her.

Unable to hide his disgust from that day, Herman laid it all out:

“Frankly, this isn’t much different from being told to marry my youngest brother’s friend. About as shocking as being ordered to marry my own sister.”

“Don’t exaggerate. For blue bloods like us, that’s just daily life. Though I’ll admit yours is an exceptionally archaic arranged marriage.”

“So you’re saying you’d marry a girl young enough to be your little sister if it were an arranged match?”

Herman’s sarcasm couldn’t get any sharper, but Roger just shrugged indifferently.

“Pity. I don’t have any sisters.”

“Is Esina Lehire just decoration in your house then?”

“Quite pretty decoration. For a bastard brat who doesn’t even know her father’s name.”

Roger delivered this assessment of his half-sister while twisting his mouth crookedly.

Esina Lehire was the illegitimate child brought home by Roger’s mother, the Lehire Viscountess, from some commoner lover.

An open secret, the family’s shame.

Roger showed no hesitation in pointing this out, nor in making clear his contempt and disgust toward her.

“At least her face didn’t turn out as filthy as her bloodline. Small mercies for me and Father.”

“……”

“Pretty enough to sell off in a marriage deal, at least.”

Still, a sister is a sister. Only then did Herman remember just what a terrible person Roger was, comparing his own sister to merchandise.

‘Not that I’m one to talk.’

His handsome face and capable nature just made people forget. When it came to women, Herman was the very embodiment of debauchery and recklessness—just as much of a scoundrel. That’s why the two were friends.

Roger stroked his chin and continued lightly.

“Actually, there’s someone who wants to buy her. I plan to send her off soon.”

“Someone wants to ‘buy’ Esina Lehire?”