Eight years before…
The capital of the Gaihandar Empire was situated near the northern portion of the continent. Though the land it had been built upon was relatively flat, it was surrounded by a mountain range known as the Mittlehorns, a natural fortification that protected both the city and the nation. It was a place where winter brought bitter cold, so the citizens often spent the season hunkered down in their homes next to a warm hearth.
Viscount Holland and his family were no different. Every night after supper they would each retire to their own cozily heated chambers to relax. Or at least, almost every night.
Unfazed by the dark, frigid corridors of her family home, the viscount’s daughter, Byletta, burst through the sitting room door and launched into an angry tirade.
“What is the meaning of this, Father?!”
Byletta’s parents, who had been enjoying an after-dinner cup of tea, paused to look at their daughter. Unperturbed by the menace in her voice, the pair let out a simultaneous sigh.
“Just as boisterous as ever, I see. Such behavior does not befit a young lady, Byletta.”
“Spare me your lecture for now, Mother. My dear brother has brought me woeful tidings. Is he to be believed?”
“He is. We have received a proposal for your hand in marriage from the Swangan family, a distinguished line descended from ancient noble blood. It’s quite the honor. Have you seen your husband-to-be’s portrait? Quite the dashing young man, I’m sure you’d agree?”
If he had ancient noble blood, that meant his lineage reached all the way back to the time of the previous empire, which had ruled the land before the current Gaihandar Empire had come to power. But that was neither here nor there. Power meant nothing to Byletta. In fact, she detested it.
“The fireplace will have made short work of his painting by now. How many times must I tell you that I will not be married off?!”
“I’d wager you didn’t even spare it a glance before you threw it into the flames… Byletta, you must understand that we cannot allow a woman of your standing to remain unwed. We Hollands have always been a family of knights, and as such we expect you to honor your lineage by taking a proper military man for a husband. The Swangan boy is a fine young man—a lieutenant commander who was recently promoted to lieutenant colonel. And being older than you at twenty-five, perhaps he’ll be able to rein you… I mean, p-placate you… Win you over? In any case, he’s the perfect age for you.”
“Please do not make me repeat myself. And ‘family of knights’? We acquired our position no more than sixty years ago through the use of rural thugs—and we were mere commoners before then. If my betrothed is so wonderful, why would he be interested in someone from a family like that ?”
“You are quick to make a mockery of this house, but a martial line like ours is an impressive—”
“Save your vanity for someone else. What I want to know is, Why me?!”
“Because you were specifically requested.”
“No husband of such standing and prestige would specifically request to wed me. Somebody else is behind this match.”
“Well… Hm.”
Suddenly at a loss for words, her father abashedly scratched his cheek—a telltale sign he was trying to come up with a lie. Byletta’s eyes narrowed.
Beneath the veil of ethereal beauty she’d inherited from her mother, her amethyst gaze blazed with intent. Pushing back her strawberry-blond hair, Byletta scowled at her father. “Don’t tell me it was that infernal Lieutenant General Dreslan again!”
Fifteen years ago, when her father had been supporting a regiment at the northern front in his capacity as a colonel of the Imperial Army, he’d gained the favor of his division commander, Lieutenant General Movris Dreslan. The pair had quickly struck up an unlikely friendship. Now, if the lieutenant general had just been a bit of a bad influence, the family would have had no cause for concern—but Movris Dreslan was infamous for his love of liquor, gambling, and womanizing. It was a mystery to Byletta why her earnest, straightforward father got along with the man so well. All she knew was that when he was coerced into gambling with Lieutenant General Dreslan, he always came home far poorer than when he’d left.
The man was a constant thorn in the side of the entire Holland family. But to Byletta, he was the devil.
Taking her father’s silence as confirmation, Byletta slammed her fist onto the table so hard that the teaware clinked. She didn’t care.
“You cannot be serious. Father! What on earth would possess you to force a marriage on your precious, barely sixteen-year-old daughter?!”
“Come now! If you can say such things with a straight face, I believe you will be just fine.”
Now on the offensive, Byletta’s father set his teacup down on the table and faced her calmly.
“It is as you surmised. The engagement was proposed to me by His Excellency Lieutenant General Dreslan. The Swangan boy is one of his most valued subordinates and was apparently in the business for a wife. Now, we all expect the fighting at the southern front to last for quite a while, do we not? Lieutenant General Dreslan simply wants to set his dear subordinate up with a lovely wife to make fond memories with before he goes off to war, even if he will only be able to remain by her side for a brief time.”
“We are agreed on the fact that I am lovely, but if this man is a favorite of the lieutenant general’s, it makes me wonder about his character. He must be quite a dangerous person. Surely there is more to this than simply furnishing such a man with a bride.”
“Where in the world did you get all that self-confidence from? I must admit it frightens me at times… But the lieutenant general has been searching for a fearless, courageous, and physically strong individual who can be called a woman. There aren’t many girls out there who fit that description, you know. And when he heard the gossip about you from back in your school days, that settled it.”
He was most likely referring to her time at Stacia Academy, which she had graduated from the previous year. Admittedly, her tenure as a student there had been far from ordinary, and blood had even been shed. Perhaps that had made the lieutenant general mistake her for a courageous woman somehow?