Chapter 58

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Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 58
Chapter Title: Engaged to the Blind Duke
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Marin, wearing high ivory-colored heels, carefully held Yuria's hand and walked step by step.

One wrong step, and her ankle would be done for.

Before long, they arrived at the lounge right next to Arena Hall, the venue for the party.

Two men were waiting for her there.

"You…… You look truly beautiful today."

Zeromian, dressed in a uniform blending white and silver, stared at her in a daze.

His long hair, as if woven from shimmering silver thread, was neatly combed back, and the deeply set eyes hidden behind his glasses exuded an air of intellect.

"You're the one who's more beautiful, Sir Zeromian."

Marin complimented him sincerely.

Zeromian turned his gaze away, his earlobes slightly reddening.

Marin's eyes now turned to the duke, who stood with dignified poise, leaning on his cane.

The duke, in a uniform of black and gold, had his black hair slicked back with pomade.

His broad, shining forehead. Thick, lush long lashes. White skin and red lips. A high nose bridge as if sculpted, and plump lips more beautiful than any woman's.

"You look dashing today, Gerald."

"……."

There was no response from the blind duke.

As silence stretched on for a moment, Marin quickly approached the duke's side.

"Shall we go?"

She offered her hand first, and he grasped her wrist familiarly before sliding down to hold her hand.

At their natural exchange, Zeromian made no effort to hide his displeased look as he spoke up.

"You don't have to try so hard."

"Pardon?"

"It's fake anyway."

Marin flinched, her body trembling, but she tried her best not to show it.

"You're still on about that?"

"Should I pretend to be fooled, then?"

As Zeromian grumbled, Marin hurriedly inserted herself between them.

"Wait, you two, don't fight."

"I wouldn't fight with such a tiresome fellow."

"Don't worry, my lady. I wouldn't fight with someone so emotionless either."

Hah, that's exactly what fighting is.

It was exhausting, like watching two big dogs—one white, one black—growling at each other.

Just then, the duke's head turned toward the door.

"Come in."

Butler Sebas Chen opened the lounge door and entered.

"It's time to enter."

"Let's go."

The duke slipped Marin's hand into his arm. Suddenly linking arms naturally, Marin widened her eyes and looked up at him.

He leaned down slightly and whispered to her.

"Your heels seem high."

How did he even know that?

No more questions. This man just knows everything.

"Butler, let's go."

"Yes."

***

The butler opened the lounge door, and the duke and Marin took the lead.

Zeromian followed behind them with an uncomfortable expression, sensing he couldn't intrude at this moment.

* * *

Arena Hall in the Duke’s Castle had opened its doors.

The massive Arena Hall, large enough for hundreds, was famous for the ceiling mural left by the great master of the art world, Serionzo, as his final work before death.

A beautiful sea painted with ground blue coral, angels born from melted pearls, and a shining sun drawn with molten gold.

Those deeply versed in art visited the Duke’s Castle solely to see Arena Hall's ceiling mural.

Yet Arena Hall opened only for weddings of the duke's direct line or major parties.

Now, after a long time, Arena Hall had flung its doors wide to welcome guests.

"My goodness, did you see? Those champagne glasses stacked like a tower? All Ohara products."

Ohara's glassware was renowned among nobles as something even money couldn't easily buy. And yet, Ohara champagne glasses were stacked in towers here and there.

"And what about this wine? It's Bullia wine."

Bullia wine, said to be the emperor's favorite, numbered only a hundred bottles a year. That wine was placed on every table.

"Isn't that painting on the wall also a Serionzo work?"

A noble gasped in admiration, lost in awe.

The party, prepared in just a month, was more splendid and lavish than any other. It was enough to remind everyone anew of the Western Duke's wealth.

Nobles gathered in clusters chatted while repeatedly glancing toward the entrance.

"Did you hear the rumor?"

A plump noblewoman covered her mouth with her fan and whispered to the skinny noblewoman beside her.

"That scandalous one?"

"Yes. Goodness, what does His Grace the Duke lack?"

"Exactly. If His Grace the Duke proposed, lovely young ladies would line up."

"But her house is ruined; she couldn't even have a debutante ball, and she's old too, they say."

"No, how did a woman like that even meet His Grace the Duke!"

The skinny noblewoman couldn't hold back her anger and snapped her fan shut, lightly slapping her palm.

"Unfortunately, His Grace the Duke is ill right now……."

The plump noblewoman pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed at her dry eyes.

"Didn't that capable aide know about this woman clinging to him?"

"He's down in the south right now."

"It all fits perfectly."

The young noble ladies listening behind them subtly met each other's eyes and smiled.

At that moment, the attendant by the Arena Hall entrance shouted in a loud voice.

"His Grace the Duke Gerald von Vines and his fiancée, Lady Marin Schwenz of House Schwenz."

As the duke entered Arena Hall, the noisy hall fell silent in an instant.

The duke, arm in arm with his fiancée, walked in confidently, showing no sign of a man with injured eyes. If not for the cane in one hand and his closed eyes.

As they drew nearer, nobles parted to both sides, bowing their heads in greeting.

Standing in the center, Gerald slowly turned his head as if surveying the surroundings.

Though his eyes were closed, some nobles flinched as if meeting his gaze.

It was his first official appearance since injuring his eyes. The young nobles, who had inwardly dismissed the blinded duke, were overwhelmed by his dignity.

"Let me introduce her formally. My fiancée, Marin Schwenz. She's precious to me, so I hope you all treat her as you would me."

Each word of introduction carried a profound resonance.

Marin lowered her eyes shyly to hide her bewildered look.

Precious to him? Who writes his scripts for him?

If Olive were here, she'd accept it, but if the duke prepared this himself, it was impressive.

Even if it was to avoid exposing their fake engagement, he was too good at lying.

Faced with the gathering prickly stares, she lifted her head straight.

People staring at her curiously, mocking her, observing her. She felt all kinds of gazes.

"I'm Marin of House Schwenz. Thank you all for coming. Please enjoy the party."

***

No sooner had her words ended than the orchestra began to play.

Gentle music filled Arena Hall.

Marin forced the corners of her mouth up, enduring the burdensome stares around her.

She had to get through this moment somehow, thinking of the gold she'd receive.

"Your Grace the Duke, congratulations on your health and your engagement."

An old noble with a finely groomed mustache approached and bowed to the duke.

"Count Mandrea, thank you."

Pleased that the duke remembered him, Count Mandrea beamed, then soon adopted a somber expression.

"And my condolences for Lady Adria, wife of Count Adria."

"It's a good day, so only good words."

"Ah, forgive me."

Count Mandrea stepped back with a look of regret for his mistake.

Afterward, countless nobles lined up eagerly to greet the duke.

Marin stood beside him, receiving their congratulations with him, smiling so much her face was on the verge of cramping.

"Time to wet my throat a bit."

At the duke's words, the nobles dispersed with disappointed looks.

The duke led Marin to the food table.

"Stay here."

"And you, Gerald?"

"I'll finish the greetings. If I don't, they'll chase me to the end."

"Then I'll come with……."

As Marin tried to follow him again, the duke whispered in her ear.

"That's an order."

"Yes, sir."

If it's an order, she had to obey.

Seriously, even his considerate words come out so bluntly. That's a talent.

Marin smiled helplessly as she watched the duke's curt departing figure.