🌻 🌻 🌻
AFTER the ordeal of House Streltsy, where Lucas had claimed his victory, he returned to Solalitika and spent his usual days hectic but cheery.
But one day, the king’s younger brother started sending numerous nobles’ daughters to Solalitika. Lucas’s manor, which usually never saw any aristocratic guests, became lively with luxurious carriages and lovely ladies.
On the surface, these guests arrived to experience a salon hosted by Iris. Curiously, they were always present whenever Lucas was at the manor—that was no coincidence. Clearly, the cunning prince had a different intention up his sleeve. All the noblewomen that arrived had dark hair, and though many were meek and toned down, they were beautiful. They were quiet and kind. It was as though Lucas was implicitly being told to choose someone else.
Needless to say, they came from powerful families that sided with the king and his younger brother, the third prince. In the past, Lucas would’ve found them to be convenient marriage candidates to serve his purposes.
“Damn it…” Lucas grumbled as he punched a wall. He’d left Iris to host the salon and had returned by himself to his office. “Don’t screw with me.”
When he saw Iris smile and welcome them without once looking upset, he felt like his chest was about to cave in. It was nothing short of humiliating to see his wife welcome ladies under the care of the king’s younger brother. Lucas felt sick to his stomach when he grasped the royal’s intentions.
“I’m not your beloved pet that needs a mate to be chosen for him,” he hissed.
Lucas had known the third prince for quite a while, ever since he’d been a servant at Count Garner’s house. It all started when Lucas frantically did his utmost best to save the queen from her ailment. That allowed Lucas and the king’s younger brother—the third prince and a duke—to form a relationship that continued to this day. Duke Cyrus Monzlaus had been drawn to Lucas’s youth, dazzling beauty that made him stick out from the crowd, and his ambition. And so, the royal had always supported Lucas from the shadows—from assisting the young man so that he could run the mines to helping found and develop the Stock Trading Company. Duke Monzlaus had always been cheering for his young friend. Though Lucas had concocted plans, negotiated at the mines, and used whatever means he could to navigate his problems, the third prince had ensured that unfair conditions set by those who outranked him wouldn’t crush Lucas. Indeed, the royal had served as a patron to shield Lucas from foul schemes.
Lucas, who was certainly not of noble birth and had no one backing him, couldn’t ignore what Duke Monzlaus had done for him, helping him claw his way up the ranks. Lucas was deeply indebted to him and felt a sense of duty to repay the investment he had received.
However, gratitude aside, it was wrong for Lucas to have his wife chosen for him. He felt anger rage within his heart as the duke continued sending in beautiful ladies at his convenience. “Sure, I’ll find a wife for you. You like these types of women, don’t you? How about her?” Duke Monzlaus’s recent actions seemed to imply. Lucas had had enough.
“I declined him so firmly, and that wasn’t enough?” Lucas mumbled to himself.
“Now, now,” a calm voice said from behind him. “I suppose that old man’s thinking, ‘as long as she’s cute, anyone will do,’ or the like.”
“Leik, when did you come in?”
“Oh, I’m always by your side, my lord.” The butler had appeared without a sound and was polishing a silver knife in his hand as he continued, “Well, I’m sure he’s simply worried about you. A nouveau riche baron who started with nothing requires as much support as he can get. It’s quite logical, really.”
“I’m sure he just finds it a waste if a pawn he raised until now becomes useless.”
“I suppose that’s another way to phrase it. The best way to silence him is to show that Madam Iris, though having lost the glory of the Traditional Twelve, is still useful and can be both a pawn and a wife.” Leik twirled his knife in his hands, checking over the gleaming blade meticulously. “Perhaps if you show just how infatuated you are with the madam, you could negotiate with His Highness. As a patron, there’s nothing more delightful than being shown an unusual side of your favorite investment.”
Lucas narrowed his eyes and glared at his butler. “Don’t make it sound so weird.”
“Heh, heh.” Leik’s lips curled in a smile, unfazed. “I’m always watching with great interest as you flirt with the lady. You’ve got the funniest expressions when you’re all sweet on her.” He approached his master and tilted his head. “You’d like to undo this mariage blanc soon, too, wouldn’t you?”
As the butler’s lunar eyes narrowed in on him, Lucas could see himself reflected in that conniving gaze—he had the look of a deer cornered by a wolf. Leik smiled faintly.
“I understand why you’re hesitant, my lord,” he said. “But I’m sure that she will be just fine.”
Lucas pushed his butler aside and gazed out the window. Carriages were stationed outside, waiting for the ladies to finish their time at the salon. I can still make it in time, Lucas thought as he jumped into action.
“I’ll be off,” he said.
“I wish you luck,” Leik said to his master’s back.
The baron headed for the salon, where his wife was hosting the other ladies.
“M-My lord?” a servant said in shock, standing by the door.
“I’ve got an urgent matter to address. I’m going in,” Lucas said, making the servant hastily open the door so that he could step inside.
Iris, who was enjoying a spot of tea, looked astonished to see him as she hastily rose from her chair. She wore an adorable dress decorated with small floral prints. He had no time to praise her, but she looked beautiful, and the dress suited her very well. It was rare for her to look so confused as she approached her husband.
“Whatever is the matter?” Iris inquired. “Everyone’s rather shocked, as they aren’t used to a man joining a tea party.”
He ignored Iris’s question and cast a sweeping glance at the ladies. Upon seeing the lord of the manor, they all smiled faintly. Despite nouveau riche Lucas barging in rudely, it was the sign of a fine lady to never forget her manners. Their signature smile was one that Lucas learned well as he mingled with other nobles—it hid their true thoughts and feelings behind a mask. Their smiles accentuated their elegance, class, and beauty to the maximum while removing any sense of uniqueness from their faces. Their perfection and utter lack of any faults were truly the epitome of what aristocrats aimed for.
In the past, that behavior had creeped Lucas out—they all looked and acted the same, like machines. But he now knew they were all undoubtedly perfect wives personally chosen by Duke Monzlaus. Every single one was a noble to the core and educated very well.
“Um, Lucas?” Iris asked in befuddlement, requesting an answer.
Lucas looked at his wife, her earnest face trying so desperately to understand his thoughts and actions. Without hesitation, he lifted her jaw and kissed her on the lips.
Iris gasped in surprise. The kiss was unrestrained and passionate, which they only exchanged when alone. As she widened her eyes, she was like a pitiful bird that allowed her captor to do as he pleased. The salon fell silent as the other ladies were astonished by the display of passionate affection.
As the two gauchely gasped for air in between their kiss, showing it off to the other ladies, Iris finally staggered just as Lucas had his fill. She must’ve been at her limit. He released his wife from his grasp and used his thumb to wipe his lips, rose-colored lipstick dyeing his thumbpad.
Iris looked as though she had forgotten to breathe and had mustered all her strength to remain standing. Lucas hugged his wife’s waist and drew her close as he gazed at the other ladies. Some of them turned red while others turned pale, but all displayed their bemusement. Even the most disciplined lady couldn’t hide their true thoughts in the face of such a show of love. Lucas narrowed his eyes and plastered a fake business smile on his face.
“Oh, pardon me,” he apologized. “As an ill-bred man, I’m afraid I’m not too familiar with manners. Every now and then, I feel this impulsive desire and yearning to feel my wife’s lips on mine.”
Iris and the other ladies were frozen in place, unable to emit a single word. Lucas closed Iris’s half-open mouth, wiped her lips, and kissed her cheek before patting her on the shoulder. He glanced at the other ladies.
“We’ll pick this up later, Iris,” he said.
Before Iris could respond, he left the room. A few seconds later, he heard shrill squeals echo from behind him. He stuck out his tongue at the maids and servants, giving them a look of triumph and satisfaction.
He trusted that Iris could take care of matters and left everything else to her.