The ring exchange ceremony had concluded.
Escar was overwhelmed with joy as he successfully slipped the wedding ring onto Shirley's right ring finger.
The same emotion filled him as Shirley placed a ring on his own finger.
"Well then, it's time for the final act of the wedding declaration."
How exhilarating!
There was no moment more thrilling to Escar than the ones he shared with Shirley.
"Groom, you may now kiss your bride."
GULP!
Escar swallowed hard.
He gazed at Shirley, who was looking up at him with a serious expression, her unwavering gaze only adding to his nervousness.
He feared making a mistake.
"…!"
Escar began to move.
He raised his trembling hands and gently cupped Shirley's delicate cheeks.
With his heartbeat echoing in his ears, Escar closed his eyes, savoring the rhythm of his racing pulse as he lowered his head, drawing closer to Shirley.
And then, finally ….
CHUU~
… His dream came true.
Escar's naturally pink lips met Shirley's soft ones.
Ah, so soft~ unbelievably soft.
A strange, addictive sensation filled his mind.
He wanted more.
More, and more.
His desire urged him to deepen the kiss, turning the gentle touch into a passionate embrace.
But ….
SRUKK!
… Shirley pushed against his chest, forcing him to stop.
Both of them panted heavily, catching their breath.
Escar looked at Shirley, whose height barely reached his Adam's apple, with eyes that sparkled with admiration.
"She's breathtakingly beautiful," he thought.
How could she not be?
Shirley stood there, flushed and out of breath, her lips now swollen and glistening. It was a mesmerizing sight that made Escar's longing grow even more intense.
"The marriage declaration is complete!" the officiant announced.
Truthfully, Escar still wanted to continue.
This newfound sensation of exhilaration and passion was something he wished to experience over and over again.
Would there ever be a more intoxicating feeling than this?
Yet ….
"Congratulations on your marriage, Lord and Lady Aschenford," the officiant added.
For now, perhaps this was enough for a beginning.
"May your union be blessed with health and happiness always."
Unlike Escar, who was elated from his first kiss, Shirley felt nothing but disgust.
She felt dirty.
Quietly, she wiped her lips, trying to erase the remnants of the kiss.
How could she have surrendered her precious self to a mute marquess, just to survive?
The thought made her stomach churn.
"Ah, congratulations~ congratulations on your union~"
Shirley turned to leave but froze in place. Her eyes widened, pupils contracting, and her skin paled.
"Who would've thought that watching the Marquess so passionately kiss his bride would stir me as well?"
A nobleman dressed in formal attire adorned with ranks and medals approached to congratulate the newlyweds.
His striking smile and piercing blue eyes matched his golden hair, shimmering like strands of sunlight.
That man was, ….
"Th-thank you f-for … y-your wishes, …." Shirley stammered.
…The Crown Prince!
"Why so awkward, Marchioness? Let go of the formalities. Didn't we once share a connection, albeit brief?"
Michael Soultherns, the revered Crown Prince, Shirley's former fiancé, who had used their relationship to investigate her father's case, stood before her.
"You can't even look me in the eye, can you? Are you afraid you'll fall for me again?"
The mocking question made Shirley clench her teeth, and Escar's brow twitched slightly.
"Ah, Marquess, don't get the wrong idea, okay? Rest assured, I've never harbored feelings for your wife—not once, and I certainly won't in the future."
JLEB!
A brutal strike!
The cold and piercing words cut through Shirley's heart with precision.
And before the wound could heal, ….
"By the way, allow me to introduce, …."
Another blow landed mercilessly.
"… This is Lady Arabella, the daughter of Baron Elgin, my beloved fiancée and the future Crown Princess and Queen of your kingdom."
Shirley felt as if she had been struck dumb.
Her mouth hung slightly open in disbelief as she took in the sight of the future Crown Princess.
A woman of modest appearance and humble status, with black hair and dark eyes that bore a passing resemblance to Shirley's own, smiled sweetly—an irritatingly kind smile.
"Honor to you both," Arabella said softly.
Her words were gentle, her demeanor graceful, and her expression soothing.
"May your marriage always be blessed with happiness."
Not only that, but she also generously offered her well-wishes, which led to, ….
"Wow, amazing! This time, the Crown Prince has chosen wisely!"
"Pfft, yeah! Not like his ex before."
"Forget blessing the newlyweds—I want to bless the Crown Prince!"
… The murmurs that grew louder and louder, spreading through the crowd like wildfire.
Shirley's ears, already burning red, felt as though they would burst.
"…."
Escar, who had been smiling softly at the guests, now wore a displeased expression.
He extended his right hand to Sir Bashilian, who promptly handed him a special notebook.
Without delay, Escar scribbled something and held it up for all to see.
["Thank you for your blessings!"]
The handwriting was rough and hasty, devoid of emotion.
["Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to retire and rest!"]
"Oh, come on, Marquess! A wedding celebration is a once-in-a-lifetime event for newlyweds, isn't it?" the Crown Prince teased, his mocking grin only infuriating Shirley further as she watched him wrap his arm around Arabella's waist.
["What use is a grand party if the host cannot enjoy it due to feeling unwell?"] Escar retorted with a sharp edge, flashing a smile that was more of a smirk.
"Hey, hey, enough of this!"
The Duke of Esclat stepped in to diffuse the tension between the two men.
"Your Highness, you wish to enjoy the wedding reception, don't you? The Marquess has prepared everything! Follow me, and I'll guide you personally," he said to the Crown Prince.
"And Marquess, you can take a moment to rest—change your clothes, have a bite, or whatever you need. Join the reception when you're ready. We'll be waiting!" he added to Escar.
After a brief pause, both men seemed to consider the duke's proposal. Finally, ….
"… Hm? Not bad. Fine, lead the way, Esclat."
The Crown Prince agreed first.
"I'm curious to see just how spectacularly our beloved Marquess has prepared this sacred event."
"Haha! Of course! This way, Your Highness."
As the Duke escorted the Crown Prince and his fiancée away, he turned back to exchange a glance with Escar.
Their gazes locked for a moment, and the Duke winked, causing Escar to flinch slightly.
Ah, his friend was buying him time.
"…!"
Escar quickly glanced at Shirley, who remained frozen, her face pale and drenched in cold sweat.
He extended his hand toward her.
"…."
Shirley stared at the large hand offered to her.
Her crimson eyes slowly traveled up the arm to its source, meeting Escar's emerald gaze, which was filled with concern.
"…."
Escar nodded gently, silently encouraging her to trust him.
Moved by such a simple gesture, Shirley decided—at least for today—to put her trust in this mute Marquess.
She handed her bouquet to the Aschenford estate's head maid, Villicia, and hesitantly took Escar's hand.
"I want to rest in my room," Shirley whispered weakly, leaning her small face against Escar's muscular arm, which bulged beneath his clothes.
Escar was momentarily surprised by her sudden action.
But his worry for her well-being outweighed his shock.
"Shall we leave now?" Sir Bashilian asked. "However, if we do, the Crown Prince's carriage will reach the march ahead of ours. Do you mind passing through the guests at the reception to reach your residence?"
"I can endure it a bit longer," Shirley replied faintly, letting go of Escar's hand to link her arm through his instead.
GRTT!
"…?"
Escar glanced at Shirley, noticing how she clutched his arm tightly, her fingers trembling as though under immense pressure.
["Then let's go,"] Escar said.
Unbeknownst to anyone else, Shirley's mind was in turmoil—a mix of anger, regret, and self-doubt.
First, her anger stemmed from seeing the Crown Prince's fiancée, who bore an uncanny resemblance to her.
Black hair cascading down her back … the Crown Prince's preferences hadn't changed, had they?
If his taste remained the same, why didn't he just keep her?
What made that low-born woman so different from herself?