Chapter 1: Married Off to the Enemy
“LADY Bertine, I’m ever so excited for your wedding a fortnight hence. This is the first time I have laid eyes on such a divine wedding dress.”
“Thank you. I am also looking forward to the day.”
The home of Marquess du Jeanne, a member of the nobility in the Kingdom of San Luenne, was alive with the hustle and bustle of celebration for his daughter’s impending marriage. Bertine, the young noblewoman in question, surveyed the veritable mountain of gifts sent by her countrymen as well as foreign allies for her wedding ceremony taking place two weeks from today. She found herself exceedingly grateful for the fortune of being born in her nation.
Graced with a beautifully symmetric, oval-shaped face, the twenty-four-year-old passed the time chatting and laughing gaily with her close friends, who had visited her wanting to ooh and aah over her wedding dress. Long, light brown hair extended lushly down to her waist. Green eyes, tilted slightly upward at the corners, brimmed with a strong will and intelligence.
✦ ✦ ✦
THE Kingdom of San Luenne was a tiny island nation floating in a blue ocean. Nestled against the continent, the small country had been quite poor up until a few decades prior, its only worth lying in salt and seafood. But the king three generations past staked his kingdom’s survival on a course of action designed to transform it into one specializing in tourism. Since then, as a result of his successful gamble, the country has been a leading destination for visitors around the world.
At present, war took place on the neighboring continent, between the Empire of Centaur in the north and the Federation in the south. Both sides fought strenuously at their shared borders, yet the Kingdom of San Luenne did not participate in the battle. It only remitted war funds to the Empire, its ally. The Kingdom simply could not afford to with its dearth of military personnel. Aside from a squadron of soldiers set to guard the royal palace, it only had a small number of archers posted around the island to defend its maritime territory.
While perusing Bertine’s wedding dress and presents, her friends visiting today talked about everything under the sun, from recent events to personal projects. All except the war. Because no one here was concerned about its outcome.
“Did I tell you I started a venture for custom party clutches? They will have glass beads sewn all throughout, which is just the rage these days. I already have several orders from imperial princesses.”
“Well, I am considering producing wraps made from the finest down. Thin but warm. And light, of course! Sure to be popular among noblewomen as an accoutrement for their ensembles out and about.”
✦ ✦ ✦
NO country had yet attempted an attack on their small nation possessed of such great wealth. There was only one reason for this—the island’s environment itself, said to be a “natural fortress.” Sharp, jagged reefs enclosed the island, lurking just beneath the water’s surface, making it impossible for enormous warships to approach. Even smaller vessels had a challenging time entering the nation. They needed to operate their ships in a complicated set of maneuvers along a designated route, like threading the eye of a needle. If they didn’t, they risked tearing holes in their crafts and thereby drowning in the treacherous waters.
Complementing the defense the reefs provided against mainland aggression were the warm currents enfolding the island, responsible for the nation’s year-round temperate climate. So blessed by mild weather, imperial citizens visited in droves, both long-term residents who summered and wintered in the Kingdom as well as short-term tourists. Naturally, this allowed the Kingdom’s people to earn their fair share of foreign coin.
That same day, even though it was only early afternoon, Bertine’s father, a chancellor of their nation, came home in a rush and called for her.
“My lady, my lord bids you to see him in his office at once.”
“Understood. I’ll head there forthwith.”
Bertine excused herself from her friends’ company and hastened to answer her father’s summons. Upon stepping into his office, she noted his stiff expression. He wasted no time in broaching the subject he wished to discuss.
“The Empire lost to the Federation.”
“Oh, well…that’s certainly unexpected news. Our country is likely to feel the repercussions as well, yes, Father?”
“Correct, because we aided the Empire through war funds. It should come as no surprise to you that the Federation counts the Kingdom as part of the losing side and has therefore demanded reparations. A colossal sum, no less. One so vast we cannot hope to ever repay it, even infusing the royal family’s personal wealth into the nation’s assets.”
“I see.”
Why tell me all this? Despite the impertinent thought, Bertine responded to her father. The marquess sighed heavily and raised his head.
“The Federation agreed to a reduction in the amount in exchange for your betrothal to His Excellency, Cecilio Bonifaccio.”
“…Pardon?”
The Marquess Maxim du Jeanne ground his teeth, his face hard with fury over a situation in which he found himself helpless to control. But why me? For the life of her, Bertine couldn’t grasp what he had just said. My wedding is in two weeks. The wild thought lanced through her mind.
“Both our King and his younger brother have only male children. Amongst the six marquessate families, you’re the only female of marrying age. Bertine, I beg you to forgive me for being unable to refuse.”
“You beg for my forgiveness…? Then that means it is already done?” she asked, her throat dry.
“Yes.”
Her father turned his gaze away from her, struggling to contain his fraught emotions. Bertine, face expressionless as she was still unable to process the conversation, lurched from the chair and staggered back to her room. Without so much as a by-your-leave to the marquess. Once in her chamber, she collapsed on the bed, lying there motionless. Dorothée, her lady’s maid, stared in confusion.
“Please ask my guests to leave.”
“Yes, my lady. Begging your pardon, but is something the matter?”
“I’m evidently to be married off to His Bloody Excellency Cecilio of the Federation.”
“Whaaat?! P-Preposterous! I’ll return as soon as I encourage our guests to take their leave.”