Chapter 18

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 18

Chapter Title: The Wedding Ceremony

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"My goodness. You look absolutely stunning, Miss."

Absorbing the final praises from Madam and the maids as they checked her appearance one last time, Agatha gazed into the mirror again.

A smooth, pale forehead and neatly groomed eyebrows, a pretty nose bridge and plump lips, flawless amethyst eyes, and hair like spun gold.

But unlike usual, her face was slightly flushed. The heavy makeup hid it well, yet she still looked a touch tense.

She had been through many weddings before, but this was the first one that had her heart racing like this.

It felt like stepping into an unknown world, and fiddling awkwardly with her bouquet was her way of dealing with the giddy anticipation.

"Miss. His Majesty has arrived. The ceremony should be starting soon."

"And him?"

"The Marquis has finished preparing and left the waiting room, they say."

The noisy interior of the temple began to quiet down. The orchestra's melody gradually swelled, and the High Priest's voice echoed through the wedding hall.

"Miss. It's time for you to go."

With the maids' support, Agatha headed to the first-floor hall. As the entrance came into view, she let go of their hands and straightened her posture.

The High Priest was reciting the blessing before the already-entered Enoch.

Swish. Her long cathedral veil scattered across the white carpet.

The gazes of the countless guests seated on either side turned to Agatha. She fixed her eyes on the back of the man in his wedding attire.

"The bride will now enter."

The man standing at the altar turned around. Agatha couldn't hide her trembling heart at the sight of Enoch, more handsome than ever.

The matching attire suited him perfectly.

All her complicated thoughts from moments ago vanished in an instant.

For a fleeting moment, he paused his movements, then slowly extended his hand to her as she drew near.

It was a large, firm hand.

As their fingers touched and her hand was enveloped within his, Agatha felt heat rising to her face.

The High Priest, who had finished the blessing toward the prospective couple standing side by side at the altar, raised his hand.

"As a token of your marriage vows, please exchange rings."

A waiting priest stepped forward, presenting a jewel box cradled on a white cushion.

A thin platinum band intricately twisted, embroidered with tiny diamonds forming an eagle motif, finished with a deep blue sapphire.

It was the symbol of the Aratus family head and lady, passed down through generations.

He slipped the small ring onto Agatha's left ring finger. The weighty platinum band fit perfectly, grounding her in the reality of the moment where it had felt slightly loose before.

'I'm really marrying him.'

It made her happy, but also anxious.

As Agatha slid an identical ring onto his finger, she thought to herself.

'I'm happy right now. That's enough.'

The moment she smiled, trusting her intuition that this marriage would be different, the High Priest blessed their ring-bound clasped hands and solemnly declared.

"With this, I proclaim the marriage of Enoch Aratus and Agatha Noblesse established."

Aromatically scented petals rained down right on cue, filling the surroundings and the wedding path.

Receiving the guests' congratulations, Agatha exchanged formal greetings with Enoch, accompanied by their respective family's retainers and vassals.

Among them was Isabel Aratus, a direct blood relative of the Aratus family who had arrived a few days prior, and Enoch's younger sister.

"Congratulations on your wedding, brother."

"Thank you, Isabel."

Blue hair just like Enoch's, and pale green eyes.

She was his sister, about five years younger. Isabel gave a slight bow toward Agatha.

"We're family now."

"So we are. Let's get along well from now on, Isabel."

"That's what I should be saying."

After formally greeting her as well, Agatha made her way to the imperial family's seats first while the banquet was being prepared.

"Congratulations on your marriage, Agatha."

"I am deeply honored, Your Majesty."

The Emperor, soon to hold vast trade tax revenues in his grasp, looked healthier than he had in ages.

She received congratulations from the Empress and Crown Princess as well, though Crown Prince Antoni was twitching at the corner of his eye ever so subtly.

"Congratulations on your marriage, Lady Agatha. Ah, you're the Marchioness now, aren't you?"

Antoni drew subtly closer and whispered as he kissed the back of her hand.

"I'd like to reserve you as my second partner at the upcoming banquet, if you don't have prior arrangements, that is."

"......It would be my utmost honor. I'll gladly keep the second spot open for you, Your Highness."

Agatha narrowed her eyes at Antoni without making it obvious.

This wasn't a ball, and especially not on her wedding day—there was no reason for a pointless dance invitation unless he had something to say.

'What is it? What scheme has the Emperor cooked up now?'

Enoch naturally took Agatha's hand and led her to the next group.

She instinctively exchanged greetings with the guests while mentally preparing for any potential variables during their honeymoon.

Among those passing by was her sixth ex-husband, Theodore Neuta, attending alone.

A pale, sickly face.

It looked like he'd been through quite a bit of mental strain, surprisingly. And the people who usually stuck to him weren't around.

'I thought he might show up with an escort.'

Even without an invitation, it was unexpected that no women from the Neuta ducal family had come as his partner.

"Hmm......?"

"What's the matter, Agatha?"

"Nothing. It's time for me to change clothes now."

By the time greetings were done, preparations for the banquet—including the outdoor area—were complete.

They poured expensive wine into a tower made of thousands of crystal glasses and brought out rare delicacies.

The banquet began—a wedding reception that doubled as a ball and festival.

The gown Agatha chose for the banquet boldly exposed her upper body and flared dramatically into a bell line from the waist down.

Her hair was piled high, and around her neck hung a choker adorned with black velvet and diamonds.

Enoch, in a sky-blue shirt matched to her dress color, diamond chain, and black suit, escorted her.

The hall, transformed from the ceremony space into the banquet venue, was gorgeously extravagant.

The ceiling, lit with every chandelier, sparkled with reflected crystals like stars in the night sky.

The white marble floor fully revealed intricate murals engraved by artisans, filled with platinum, boasting a beautiful scene.

Ting-a-lang—

As the leads entered, the orchestra changed its tune. Agatha took her place naturally at the center of the hall, gave a light greeting, and placed her hand on Enoch's shoulder.

It was an act she'd done countless times before—as the party host, opening the ball with the first dance.

But the moment his firm arm wrapped around her waist and she sank into his colorless embrace, her mouth went inexplicably dry.

It was the first time she'd felt nervous on her usual social stage.

He glanced briefly at her trembling fingertips, then showed quiet consideration right from the start.

A gentle lead.

The hand firmly supporting her waist guided the steps one beat ahead without a word.

He was surprisingly skilled at dancing.

Before long, nobles began joining them one by one at the center of the hall.

Agatha buried her face in the broad expanse of his chest to hide her faintly heated cheeks.

"Thank you."

"Not at all."

Swish. The fresh sky-blue skirt, lifted into the air, settled lightly back down.

Agatha finished the dance as if nothing were amiss, outwardly no different from usual, and exited the hall with Enoch.

Crown Prince Antoni, waiting nearby, approached.

"My turn now, Marchioness."

"An honor, Your Highness."

Agatha released Enoch's hand and took Antoni's. As the Crown Prince and the Emperor's granddaughter stepped to the center, the main stage cleared once more.

With attention waning, Antoni kept up a polished facade while speaking casually.

"You seemed unusually tense back there."

"Not at all."

"Taken with the Marquis that much?"

"......"

While greeting before dancing with Antoni, Agatha glanced toward where Enoch had been.

In the crowd, only the blue hair of the tall man was barely visible.

"Don't talk nonsense. Why did you want to see me today?"

"Heard something amusing."

The Crown Prince displayed his playboy flair with expert dance moves and gave a wry smile.

"My dear cousin. Who do you think the Mainucor envoy handling pre-negotiations with you on Palavi Island might be?"

"......"

They sometimes sought each other out or made time, but.

Both she and the Crown Prince were incredibly busy, so they often settled for brief talks during dances at balls or meetings on terraces.

And those were usually urgent or bad news.

"No way."

"I thought I'd misheard too."

As he lifted and lowered her smoothly, Antoni curled his lips the moment they drew close.

"Congrats. Looks like your ex-husband's coming."

Fernando Mainumconti, Second Prince of the Mainucor Empire.

Agatha glanced unobtrusively at the dais where the Emperor sat and bit her lip hard.

Damn godfather.

The worst wedding gift imaginable.

"There. That's all I had to say. Pay me back later."

Antoni's bombshell left Agatha's head spinning.

She hadn't wanted to attend the negotiations with the Mainucor Empire in the first place, and now her ex-husband was showing up personally? Even less appealing.

What nerve did that man have to appear there?

The smug face she'd consciously tried to forget rose unbidden, surging irritation within her.

To have to see that face again.

Fernando was a man utterly divorced from shame or common sense.

Agatha ground her teeth, recalling the day over ten years ago that had made her decide on divorce.