When the portraits of my prospective husbands had been placed before me, I fell into thought. I called for a meeting of the mind, in which multiple versions of myself voiced their various opinions, all of us looking for the most advantageous outcome.
First, there was Reinald. It went without saying that he boasted near-matchless good looks. His handsome visage drew envy, bewitched sighs, and the blushing cheeks of young maidens. The idea of marrying such a man and living a life like the heroine of a romance novel wasn’t such a bad one, really. Reinald had money, a home in the capital, and could offer me a life free of trouble and worry. The fact that he was the second son of the family also meant less pressure; it was unlikely we would be expected to produce a son for the sake of having a future heir.
Then there was the Margrave of Conrad, Kamil. He’d called the capital home in the distant past but, for some reason or other, he had retired to the countryside. He once had a wife and child, but they were gone now, lost to illness and to war.
The above was all the information that I had to go on at the time I was asked to make my decision. And given that the choice was bound to determine the future, one would naturally expect a young girl to gravitate to Reinald.
I, however, made my decision based on a different kind of selection criteria.
In short, the old man was more likely to die first.
Ordinarily, you might think that the margrave still had another ten or twenty years left in him. But you’d be thinking in terms of modern-day standards. In this world, he’d be lucky if he made it to seventy. And even that was because he was one of the nobility; if he were a commoner, he’d likely have already been on his deathbed.
Reinald, in comparison, was in his mid-twenties, healthy, and in good shape. He still had a great many years ahead of him, and I wasn’t so heartless a person that I’d pray for my husband to march off and die in battle.
You see, the heart of the matter was my desire to travel. I wanted to walk freely in another country somewhere, going where I wanted and eating whatever I liked. I wanted to see what different cultures had to offer. The reason for it was, of course, my life before I was reborn. I’d spent it entirely in Japan, where I was raised to be free. Naturally, it was going to have an impact when I found myself in a fantasy world, reborn as a noble. I didn’t have to worry about money, and I was drawn to a life in which I didn’t have to work.
Yes, there are the forced strategic marriages, but let’s put that aside for the moment. I don’t want to get off track.
“It’s a cold, hard world...” I muttered.
The life of a noblewoman is a troublesome, bothersome thing. I didn’t want to work. I wanted to be slovenly. I wanted to be selfish. But, when I tried to be those very things, something felt amiss. In my first life, in Japan, I was just another regular citizen. This made me timid. Fainthearted, I tell you.
Why? Well, as it turned out, I just wasn’t suited to the life of the nobility. I realized it the moment I began living on my own. During that period, I’d done a little work writing letters for people, and it was so fulfilling just to earn my own way. And the food I ate with that money? Simply delicious.
In other words, I didn’t want to have to get by on somebody else’s money, I wanted a freedom that was entirely my own. To put things into starker relief, I wanted to drink a jug of ale and devour a whole roasted chicken without a care in the world for what anyone around me thought. Such behavior is a breach of etiquette as far as noblewomen are concerned, and it is strictly prohibited. So it became clear to me that to reach my dreams I would need to shed my noble skin, so to speak.
Perhaps I hadn’t made the most of it, but nonetheless I knew what it was like to live free. I wasn’t suited to the job of supporting my husband in his endeavors, attending to our servants, studying this and that, maintaining appearances, or attending social events. That was all far too much for me.
And so when asked to choose a marriage partner, I had settled on the Margrave of Conrad. Yes, I would still be expected to meet and interact with people in the countryside, but etiquette wouldn’t be nearly as strictly adhered to as it was in the capital. And while I was somewhat worried and anxious with regard to the margrave’s character, it was a gamble I had to take. Besides, by my grandparents’ account he was not a bad sort.
We’ll get to the matter of the margrave’s personality later. For now, let me write about my time on the way to the frontier.
I had asked for the journey to be a simple affair, and that it was. We had left with an entourage of guards and a number of carriages filled with luggage. On the way, we had met with the margrave’s guards, and this put us at ease.
The frontier lands that the margrave governed were...about as simple as simple gets. I spent the journey looking at the scenery, but admittedly there wasn’t much in the way of things to look at. The highlight was perhaps the wide-eyed stares of a group of farmers in their fields. This was the very definition of the countryside, the boonies, the middle of nowhere. It was pastoral, peaceful, and quiet.
We passed a forest and some plains, then climbed a gentle incline to the manor that was at the core of the Conrad region. It was located on higher ground than I’d expected, and there were no trees around, which encouraged strong winds. Fences surrounded the houses, and while it gave the place a feel of desolation, it offered a clear view of the surroundings. Bandits and thieves could be spotted very easily.
I suppose the shock I felt was because I had expected the place to be idyllic; a little countryside village surrounded by woods, that kind of thing. The actual area itself, I found, was far more equipped and prepared for battle. I put this to my grandfather, who had accompanied me.
“This region is very closely guarded, isn’t it, grandfather?”
“That’s because it’s located close to the border. Should our neighbors look to invade, this place will bear the initial brunt of it. It is the responsibility of the margrave to report on any unusual activity and to make sure that his people are protected.”
“My... He must be quite the man.”
“You are now the Conrad region’s margravine, and to support your husband it is your duty to study up.”
“Oh, you’re such a worrywart.”
“Of course, I’m worried. You’re moving even farther from us now than you did the last time...”
“Oh, come now, I already told you none of that bothered me.”
“Be sure you don’t take that casual attitude in front of others, young lady.”
It was advice from a grandfather to his granddaughter, and yet there was a certain shame in the man’s face. Perhaps the very idea that his own grandchild was set to marry a man of his own generation was enough to make him faint. Perhaps the reason that he joined me, through it all, was due to the guilt he felt for my expulsion from the family.
As our carriage neared the manor’s unadorned gates, we came to a stop. The gates were opened, the carriage rumbled back into motion, and we traveled for quite some time before we came to another stop.
“Everything is ready, sir.”
My grandfather was first to alight from the carriage. While he did, I made sure that my hair and clothes were in order and rehearsed the bright smile I would wear upon my introduction. I had declined the accompaniment of personal maids for the wedding, which meant that I was, at least for this part of the journey, looking after myself. My grandfather had been stubbornly insistent about me bringing maids, but I had refused to budge. I told him I would find some upon my arrival.
When my grandfather finally called for me, I came out doing my utmost to play my role. He put out his hand, and I took it as I slowly made my way out of the carriage. At this stage, however, I did not speak and kept my head politely lowered.
“Margrave, this is my granddaughter Karen. Please take good care of her.”
The two men appeared to be acquainted. In any case, it was only after my grandfather spoke that I raised my head. Standing before me were my new husband and his servants.
“Welcome, Miss Karen,” said the margrave, “I am grateful for you coming all this way.”
“Margrave, it is a pleasure to meet you,” I replied.
As I supposed was to be expected, there were quite a number of people. Twenty, at least. I could also hear something of a commotion farther back, and I noticed some villagers had climbed the fence to get a better look at things. This wasn’t particularly surprising; it was only natural that rumors had spread about the girl who had willingly come to the countryside to marry an old man.