Chapter 1

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Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 1
Chapter Title: The Grand Duke's Proposal
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“Extra, extra! Triumphal Arch finally approved!”
The newsboy shouted, waving a newspaper. People swarmed him like ants to sugar water. Aileen, mixed in with the bustling crowd, paid a coin for one of the boy's papers.
The newspaper, printed on cheap paper, bore a headline in massive letters.
[Council Approves Construction of Triumphal Arch Today… A True Victory for the Grand Duke]
Grand Duke Cesare Traon Kal Erzet. Master of the prosperous Erzet, Commander-in-Chief of the Imperial Army, and the Emperor's only brother.
He was the most famous man in the Traon Empire. Three years ago, after a bloody struggle for the throne, Cesare had personally placed his brother on the imperial seat and was himself granted the title of Grand Duke.
He had immediately marched off to conquer the Kalpen Kingdom and, after three years of fierce battle, achieved a stunning victory. At the news of the Grand Duke's triumph, the people of the empire had all rushed into the streets to celebrate.
Upon returning from the war, Cesare had turned the council on its head by demanding they build a triumphal arch to commemorate his victory.
The council fiercely condemned him, declaring it an act of utter arrogance to demand a triumphal arch—something not even the Emperor possessed—and proclaimed it absolutely out of the question.
The council's desperate opposition had a clear motive. Cesare's reputation had already skyrocketed thanks to his unbelievable victory. To approve the construction of a triumphal arch on top of that would be to proclaim the glory of the imperial family to the world. There was no way the council, composed of the aristocratic faction, would acquiesce so easily.
In response to the council's opposition, Cesare set up a barracks on the plains near the capital. He announced his intention not to enter the city until the council waved the white flag, pointedly remaining on the plains with his loyal subordinates.
After a power struggle that lasted for months, the council had finally declared its surrender today.
“They should have done this sooner. Still, I suppose it's a relief the victory celebration will be held during the social season.”
“Indeed. I wonder which family's lady will become the Grand Duchess.”
Listening to the murmuring crowd, Aileen pushed up the glasses that had slipped down her nose. Her shaggy bangs kept poking her in the eyes.
The social season was in full swing. Unmarried young ladies were expected to diligently attend various balls and tea parties in search of a husband, but this had nothing to do with Aileen, who had yet to even make her social debut.
*I'm curious about the Grand Duchess too, but...*
She had a mountain of research to do to indulge in such wild fantasies. Aileen shook her head, clearing away the useless thoughts.
Tucking the newspaper under her arm, she began to walk briskly again. A small inn came into view in the distance. In a room on the second floor of the small, old, but tidy inn was the laboratory Aileen used.
The closer she got to the inn, the more Aileen sensed a strange atmosphere. The street, which should have been bustling with life, was silent. It was the time of day when children would usually be running around, but no one was in sight.
Looking around carefully, she saw that the windows of every house were shut tight. Though it was only early summer, the afternoon heat was quite intense. Everyone usually left their doors wide open...
The sight of the firmly shut windows and doors was ominous. Aileen hunched her shoulders and quickened her pace. She didn't know what was happening, but her plan was to flee to her lab and hide.
But as she neared the inn, Aileen's hurried steps gradually slowed. Men in uniform were standing in front of the inn. Looming like shadows under the midday sun, they were the Grand Duke's soldiers.
At the very front of the armed soldiers was a familiar face. The man of enormous build had half his face covered in burn scars.
“Lady Aileen.”
The man gave Aileen a courteous salute.
“...Sir Rotan?”
She was happy to see someone she hadn't met in a very long time, but she was so flustered by the unexpected encounter that she could barely speak. As she floundered, Rotan politely opened the door for her.
“His Excellency is waiting for you.”
It was a gentle but firm command. Without a moment to hesitate, Aileen was ushered inside the inn.
The interior was empty. The place should have been bustling with customers and filled with the smell of food. The sight of empty tables and chairs lined up with no one around was bizarre, as if everyone had vanished in an instant. Passing through the first floor where not even the owner was visible, Aileen slowly climbed the wooden stairs.
The second floor was just as devoid of life. She could easily guess that the rooms were all empty without having to open their closed doors.
Aileen walked to the room at the very end of the hall, held her breath for a moment, and looked down at the doorknob. The door, with its shiny brass knob, was already half-open.
Tense, she carefully pushed the door open, revealing a cluttered space. Glass tubes, books, syringes, hoses... It was a room where all sorts of miscellaneous items were piled up haphazardly.
The space that should have been familiar felt endlessly strange. It was because of the man standing in front of the window.
The man was stroking a flowerpot on the windowsill. Poppy petals were carelessly crushed against his leather glove.
As the man pulled his hand away and turned around, a couple of crimson petals fluttered to the floor.
He wore a dark navy uniform. The elegant, perfectly tailored uniform showed not the slightest imperfection. Only his medals and ribbons caught the sunlight, emitting a faint gleam.
Beneath hair so black it seemed to swallow the scorching sun itself, eyes as vivid red as a poppy stared directly at Aileen.
They were eyes praised for being like clean, noble rubies, and at the same time, cursed as a symbol of bloody misfortune.
“Aileen Elorde.”
A pleasant, low voice called her name. Aileen belatedly sucked in a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.
“Your... Your Excellency, the Grand Duke.”
Her heart pounded wildly at the sudden reunion. She swallowed hard a few times before speaking.
“Uh, um, c-congratulations on your victory.”
Cesare let out a small laugh at her stammered words. It was the kind of laugh that said he hadn't expected to hear that as a first greeting. Aileen also thought it was a pathetic greeting. So she hesitated before adding another word.
“I thought you would be preparing for the victory celebration.”
Since the triumphal arch had just been approved today, he should have been preparing for the belated celebration. He must be incredibly busy, so she couldn't understand why he would come all the way to this shabby inn.
Of course, he had been rather fond of Aileen. But he had only shown her kindness because she was the daughter of his late nanny. They were certainly not close enough for him to drop everything and rush to her side amidst the upheaval of getting the triumphal arch approved.
Aileen watched him cautiously, waiting for an explanation. But Cesare just stood there, staring at Aileen. His gaze was incomprehensibly intense.
Just as Aileen, unable to bear the silence, was about to speak again, he suddenly approached her with a twisted smile.
The sound of his military boots trampling the old wooden floor was sharp and clear. The closer he came, the more she could feel the sheer size of his physique.
He was remarkably tall compared to most men, with broad shoulders and a body of solid muscle. A man with looks so beautiful they were often compared to a god from mythology.
But Aileen knew all too well how cruel and fearsome a man Cesare was. Even now, she could smell the distinct scent of blood and gunpowder on him.
As the man stood right in front of her, a strange tension shot up her spine. Just as Aileen lowered her gaze, feeling as if her throat were tightening, he spoke.
“You've been making drugs.”
“...What?”
Aileen's head shot up at the unexpected words. Cesare, holding her gaze, continued languidly.
“Morpheus, Aileen.”
Aileen's eyes, hidden behind her glasses and bangs, widened.
“Ah, that's—it can be used as a painkiller...!”
“And?”
Aileen's lips snapped shut at his short retort. Morpheus was a powerful painkiller, but its raw ingredient was opium. As its ingredient was a narcotic, it was highly addictive.
Ever since the former emperor died of a drug addiction, the Traon Empire had sentenced anyone who manufactured or distributed narcotics to death.
As Commander-in-Chief of the Imperial Army, Cesare had the authority to carry out summary executions. There would be no problem if he shot Aileen in the head with a gun right here and now.
All sorts of excuses boiled in Aileen's mind. *That she wanted to be of use to the empire, that it would surely be a great help to His Excellency's soldiers who were gravely injured in the war...*
But a terrified Aileen couldn't manage to say a single thing properly. She just trembled in fear that he would point his gun at her at any moment.
Seeing her pale face, Cesare let out a light sigh. He cupped Aileen's cheek in his hand. He murmured, rubbing her whitened cheek.
“My, I didn't mean to scare you.”
He said, sounding very much like someone who had wanted to do just that, as he pushed Aileen's bangs aside. Then, he took off her crookedly perched glasses and placed them on his own face.
The round glasses looked strange on Cesare. Cesare pushed up the frames with a finger and smiled.
“Listen, Aileen.”
Her vision, now unobscured by glasses or bangs, felt unfamiliar. Aileen looked at Cesare with trembling eyes.
“As it happens, I need a Grand Duchess.”
Before Aileen, whose breathing had grown faint with tension, Cesare leisurely bowed his head. Silken strands of his fine black hair fell toward her.
“Shall we get married?”