The sanctuary bell, known to many as the Bell of Good Tidings, was tolling. Not a single cloud could be seen in the sky that day, giving the impression that even God had given his blessing.
This was the royal capital, Rozhe, of the Flür Kingdom. In mere moments, a wedding was to be held in the sanctuary of a state church that sat on a small hill overlooking the capital. This sanctuary was the holiest place in the entire palace. At that moment, I was standing at the entrance, all but crushed under the weight of the stares from the people in attendance. That was because I was the bride.
Straight down the aisle ahead of me stood the priest upon the altar, and standing across the altar was the handsome bridegroom. The Chivalric Order of the Flür Kingdom stood nearby in full dress uniform, glittering brightly in a way I could really only describe as vain. Was this what it meant to be ‘blessed by God?’ That this man was to become my husband? At best, I’m just a plain, ordinary girl. How sad was it for the bridegroom to be prettier than the bride...
I know what you’re thinking, but this is not just some fleeting fancy of mine. Because, right at that moment, the wedding was actually starting—the wedding of Duke Cercis Tinensis Fisalis and I, Viola Mangelica Euphorbia!
I was wearing a most magnificent dress that was surely the envy of all who laid eyes on it, and being escorted slowly down the dark crimson runner by my father, Earl Euphorbia, toward Duke Fisalis. The duke smiled indulgently as he held out his hand to me. My father let go, and Cercis took my hand in his. We each had certain expectations about this marriage. Well, isn’t that always the way it goes? Resignation and defiance.
✦ ✦ ✦
Masking these feelings behind a smile, I gave myself over to the duke. After all, this marriage was one of convenience and left no room for debate.
I, Viola Mangelica Euphorbia, am of noble blood, but the daughter of a penniless earl. That is to say, we were absolutely dirt poor. Money was tight, so we had to fix everything ourselves; there was no denying that our once sturdy house was in disrepair. Hoping to ease the burden, we had a little vegetable patch we put together in our modest garden and whatnot... suffice it to say the ways in which we had mastered the art of living cheaply were too many to count. Despite that, though, we were never a family with greedy desires for fame, and we lived modestly according to the motto of ‘honorable poverty.’ We were the picture of simplicity and frugality: no indulging meant no waste. Even when attending social functions, which you could say was a noble’s job, we interacted only as was strictly necessary. Nevertheless, the five of us—my father, my mother, my younger brother and sister, and myself—all lived together happily.
But then, three years ago... our already meager territory was struck by the largest famine in history. Even though we were near the capital, our soil was barren, which in turn meant we never had much in the way of income. Thus, those who lived in our fief scraped by every day with hardly a penny to spare.
And then the famine struck. Father, unable to bear the thought of abandoning his people, decided to take out a large loan to save them.
That loan was the beginning of all my trouble!
With that money, we bought and distributed goods among the people, and, anticipating a rush to support agriculture during the famine, invested in industries (which had been slowly introduced) to encourage growth. In the mountains within our territory grew a plant that, although inedible, could be made into a dye, and from it, our people made arts and crafts through weaving and dyeing. Even the thread used for dyeing was free, made by combing out the cocoons of the various insects that inhabited those mountains. What’s more, those threads were lightweight, excellent at retaining heat, and were considered quite luxurious, so this one little thread offered multiple benefits.
On the one hand, we were able to make use of materials granted to us by Mother Nature, but on the other, we had developed methods for artificial cultivation and breeding of those materials. And so, through trial and error in stabilizing our economy and land, we were able to provide our people with lives just a little easier than their previous ones.
While we managed to stabilize the land, we were far from paying back the loan we had shouldered. Even more than before, the Euphorbia family was living a modest lifestyle, although still proud in our poverty. We worked and we worked... and that was it. It was like that old song, “You work and you work, and what do you get? Another year older and deeper in debt.” Despite everything, though, my family tried our hardest!
We didn’t have much help in the beginning; we had kept just one butler and one maid, and let the others go. Initially we were going to discharge all of the butlers, but one who had been with us for a very long time told us that serving the Euphorbia family was his life’s work and that he would work for free, so he stayed. The whole family choked back tears of gratitude when they heard this. So, with our staff basically cut down to zero, the maid and I played dual roles: gardener and, occasionally, chef. From the start, more than just having them live with us as normal nobles would do, our servants enjoyed working alongside us, which we certainly did not mind one bit.
And then one day, out of the blue: a marriage proposal from His Grace, Duke Fisalis. That was a year ago.
“His Grace wants to marry... me?” I sputtered at Father, who had called me into his office to share this bizarre news. Utterly flabbergasted, my sapphire eyes opened so wide it felt like they were going to pop out of their sockets. But I was not the only one having trouble processing the situation.
“It seems so. He is well aware of our financial situation, and in exchange for taking over our debt, Cercis would like to marry you.” Putting his elbows on his work desk, Father rested his chin on his interlaced fingers and gazed up at me with a baffled look. He must have been as startled as I was. This was a bolt from the blue if there ever was one. I was reminded of Duke Fisa—wait. I tried desperately to dig up a memory... hmm. Suddenly, I snapped back to my current situation.
“Have we met before, the duke and I?” I wondered aloud, tilting my head. I could not remember ever meeting him. Try as I might to recall what he looked like, I could only picture a vague, dazzling shape in my mind, unable to make out any details.
“You haven’t,” Father replied. “As I’m sure you are aware, we fell on hard times shortly after your debut into high society, so you haven’t gone out to very many evening parties.” Like me, he tilted his head.
Although I debuted, more or less, when I was fifteen, I can count the number of parties I have attended on one hand, since we fell into poverty shortly thereafter. I was never interested in being very social at the parties I did attend, either. I usually just ate and drank with my back to the nearest wall. I was not one to flitter around like a glitzy social butterfly, climbing the social ladder and gossiping about boys. I have ab-so-lute-ly no recollection of who was even at those parties!
“Exactly! He wants someone plain and inelegant like me? Me, someone so insignificant that she doesn’t even know who is worth talking about? Why? You’ve got to be someone of status if a duke wants you...” Mirroring one another, Father and I both crossed our arms. We tried to think of a reason, but nothing came to mind.
“The duke in question is still young at twenty-four years old and serves as a knight at the royal palace. He has even been made a special division commander at this young age. He’s fit, strong, and handsome to boot. In fact, he is such a sight to behold when dressed in his knight’s uniform that the ladies who flock around him all swoon.” (Source: My maid. She was very well-informed.) Alas, seeing as I had no memory of meeting him, these were just rumors and assumptions.
So what would a total catch like that duke want with a connectionless, debt-ridden, destitute, mediocre, plain—darn it, I’m talking to myself again. I can’t avoid reality, though. I guess he’ll come and formally propose, soon. But the more I thought about it, the less it made sense.
“Er, well then... seeing as we have no reason to refuse, I would rather like to accept his offer... what do you say, Viola? If you don’t want to, I’ll tell him no,” Father said, kindly. He looked me straight in the eyes, as if he was reading my mind. I knew Father respected my opinion, but I had no intention of turning down the proposal. It would be absurd for a struggling earl’s family to reject a wedding proposal from a duke of such impeccable pedigree. After all, even if I refused the offer, the chances of another suitable candidate coming for a plain, debt-ridden girl like me were slim—not to mention I had started to think that maybe I wouldn’t mind dying a spinster! If marrying him would save my family, shouldn’t I—or rather, the duke and I—be happy to give ourselves away?
“No, I’ll do it, Father,” I told him. “It would be my pleasure to accept if it’s for my family,” I said with a smile and a firm nod.