Chapter 2: The Tyrant’s Proposal

Chapter 2

While a strategic marriage involving the hostage-taking of a noble’s daughter, under suspicion of betrayal, was a tactic rarely employed, Emperor Erich Winb was far from an ordinary man.

Not only did he possess a twisted disposition, but he was also the kind of man who would readily cast aside petty formalities and his own dignity to achieve his objectives.

When the Emperor, humbling himself, declared, “I am utterly smitten with Evening,” and “I desire to make her, a woman of distinguished lineage and exceptional magical prowess, my Empress,” there was simply no recourse for any noble of the Empire to refuse.

Evening was a woman of enigmatic charm, possessing neither a betrothed nor a lover, and the position of Empress was, unequivocally, a glorious seat of power.

To decline such a prestigious offer without a compelling reason would inevitably lead to suspicions that the Margrave harbored ulterior motives against the imperial family.

In an era such as this, claims of incompatibility or being unprepared for marriage held no sway within aristocratic circles.

Such flimsy excuses were swiftly countered and invalidated by irresponsible platitudes, akin to motivational slogans for a blind date, suggesting one merely needed to “give it a try” or “persevere.”

Other nobles, privy to this societal truth, had seemingly scrambled to secure even a nominal fiancé for their daughters. However, Margrave Flam, in his meticulous search for a suitable match for his cherished daughter, had delayed too long, finding himself ensnared in the Emperor’s grasp.

While it was undoubtedly challenging to find a suitor befitting the Margrave’s esteemed family, his complacency stemmed from never imagining the Emperor would stoop so low as to seek the hand of his political adversary’s daughter. Even the true Evening, the original occupant of this body, had seemingly been blindsided by this turn of events.

Margrave Flam clicked his tongue, thinking, ‘To think that scoundrel of an Emperor would even propose to a woman who openly disdained him…’

Realizing their relationship was far from amicable at that juncture, a pang of sorrow pierced my heart.

Regardless, from an objective standpoint, the Emperor represented the most advantageous marital prospect.

Beyond his breathtaking handsomeness, his legitimacy as the third-generation eldest son, in a world frequently plagued by succession disputes, was so unassailable that no one dared to challenge it.

Though not the kind of man one might revere, he nonetheless wielded formidable magical abilities.

Ultimately, the Margrave, with a heart as heavy as if he were swallowing needles, accepted the marriage proposal. The true Evening, convinced there was no escape, drank herself into a stupor out of sheer despair, collapsed, and that was the end of her.

That fateful day marked the tragic end of the daughter they had loved beyond measure.

It was also the very day that Lee Nabin, the second daughter of the Lee family, awakened within the lifeless body of Evening Flam.

The sheer absurdity of that moment was utterly beyond words.

Not only was it preposterous to suddenly find herself transmigrated into the world of a novel, but an inescapable and perilous marriage proposal now loomed before her.

Facing the daunting prospect of living as Evening Flam, she felt her world spin into a dizzying haze.

For she had just realized she was destined to become the wife of a villain from a romance fantasy novel.

Erich Winb was no mere ill-tempered tyrant.

He was the antagonist of a ‘marriage-first, love-later’ romance fantasy novel, one that began with a political marriage to the Northern Grand Duke.

And Evening Flam, the body she now inhabited, was merely the Emperor’s inconsequential, unloved, and unloving extra wife.

‘Even armed with this knowledge, escape had proven impossible.’

Having grasped that grim reality, she had desperately attempted to extricate herself from a marriage to a villain she had never even met, but all her efforts had been in vain.

She had contemplated, even bravely attempted, to put into practice the notion of, ‘If I don’t want to marry, can’t I just abandon my family and flee?’ However, this was hardly a world where a modern individual, accustomed to a life of comfort, could hope to survive alone.

‘I’ve never even traveled abroad by myself.’

For a woman who had never even embarked on an overseas journey alone, too timid and lonely to do so, such a feat was utterly beyond her capabilities.

Since she had already transmigrated, and was now compelled to live as Evening Flam rather than Lee Nabin, she concluded it was preferable to attempt marriage than to wander aimlessly, skill-less and landless, only to perish as a vagrant on the streets.

‘He’s quite handsome.’

Mercifully, he was handsome enough that the thought of being near him wasn’t entirely repulsive. It would have been truly problematic if his face had been so unsightly as to preclude even a kiss. Indeed, had she not known he was the villain, she would have undoubtedly mistaken him for the story’s dashing protagonist.

“You’re staring rather intently. Your eyes betray a desire to retreat to our chambers and be alone. While I appreciate the sentiment, there are many eyes upon us; you should exercise a little more discretion.”

The problem, however, lay in the undeniable fact that he was both a tyrant and a scoundrel.

Moreover, he was the kind of man who would openly behave like a rogue, deliberately provoking his fiancée, even amidst a reception filled with her own relatives.

Having finally deigned to approach his fiancée, Erich leaned casually against the table, idly sipping his wine.

Erich’s eyes, holding the glint of fine wine, narrowed perceptibly.

“Are you not going to answer? I find myself conversing alone. It would displease me greatly if my sole wife were to play the mute.”

Yet another problem was that his true intention lay in using Evening as a mere hostage to orchestrate the downfall of Margrave Flam.

This was, without question, the most intricate type of strategic marriage, devoid not only of love or affection but also of any genuine desire to foster a harmonious relationship.

Despite being merely his fiancée, with the wedding ceremony yet to occur, his peculiar adeptness at incessantly referring to her as ‘wife’ and ‘my lady’ applied an unusual, relentless pressure.

“I apologize. I should have initiated conversation more readily. I was merely hesitating, pondering where to begin.”

Evening, having finally composed herself, offered her first articulate response of the evening. It felt akin to taking a precarious first step onto a single-log bridge.

“We are hardly strangers, are we?”

“Since the accident, my recollection of past events has been rather poor. And surely, this marks our first intimate conversation, just the two of us.”

For the woman who now inhabited Evening’s body, scarcely any of the true Evening’s memories remained.

Only when encountering individuals close to the original Evening, such as family members or ladies-in-waiting who had served her for years, did she experience a faint, unsettling sense of déjà vu.

Consequently, concerning the Emperor—a man whom even the genuine Evening had only encountered a handful of times—there remained absolutely no personal memories or sentiments whatsoever.

The mere thought of the grueling month she had endured, cramming the Empire’s history and noble etiquette through intensive, short-term tutoring, sent shivers down her spine.

“Amusing.”

Her words had been earnest, yet they seemed to utterly fail with this man. He merely snorted, his gaze dismissive as he looked down upon Evening.

Erich drained the last drops from his glass, then plucked a fresh one from a passing servant’s tray.

“You haven’t taken a single sip since earlier—”

He pressed the brim of the wine-filled glass against Evening’s lips.

“It would be wise to drink enough to achieve a state of inebriation.”

With his silvery-white hair and arctic blue eyes, he exuded an aura so frigid it felt as though a cold wind perpetually swirled around him.

“Do you enjoy alcohol? And what, if I may ask, is your usual capacity?”

“Better than yours, most certainly. I was informed you nearly caused a significant incident by indulging in excessive drink.”

“…”

“I am a tolerant husband; I do not concern myself with my wife’s occasional indulgence in drink. Feel free to partake as much as you desire.”

She had deliberately attempted to steer the conversation towards more mundane topics, only for it to swiftly revert to an uncomfortable subject.

She certainly had no desire to discuss the true Evening’s drunken outburst at that moment. Erich, in turn, pressed more firmly against Evening’s lips, which were curved into a soft laugh meant to dispel the awkwardness.

“For only when you are inebriated can you endure the humiliation of weeping beneath a man such as myself.”

“Oh, no, I assure you, I won’t cry.”

Even if this strategic marriage was profoundly uncomfortable, she certainly wouldn’t disgrace herself by weeping at a mere engagement reception.

Straightening her shoulders, as if to declare that no proper socialite would ever commit such an impolite act, she watched as Erich’s lips twisted into a sinister smile.

“Have you had so much… experience?”

“Pardon?”

“Or perhaps you, too, have been eagerly anticipating the night we will share? That would be quite an honor.”

Evening, hearing the words laden with blatant mockery, stiffened her back in utter surprise.

The moment she belatedly comprehended his meaning, a shiver of dread ran through her, making the hairs on her arms stand on end.

Erich was, unmistakably, alluding to their wedding night.

The phrase ‘weeping beneath him’ had been such a melodramatic trope, something one might only encounter in novels, that she hadn’t immediately grasped its true implication.

As they were to be married, she had naturally assumed a night of intimacy would eventually arrive, but now?

‘We only met today?’

‘We’ve merely held an engagement ceremony, not the actual wedding!’

Her face flushed a furious crimson. While she understood that such a day would inevitably arrive in due course, given their impending status as husband and wife, she had never imagined it would be so soon.

This notion, so utterly alien to her common sense, left her thoroughly flustered. Yet, she was relieved he had spoken softly enough that others couldn’t overhear. Had her relatives witnessed such a display, she would have been utterly mortified and at a complete loss.

“You are capable of making quite a charming expression, it seems.”

He chuckled softly, his expression akin to one observing a feisty, cornered cat.

The wine glass slipped from Evening’s trembling lips.

Quickly regaining her composure, Evening attempted to diffuse the tension with a light laugh, feigning nonchalance.

“Oh, was that what you meant? Today is the reception, so I’ll be quite preoccupied with entertaining our guests. It would be rather inconvenient for the hosts to abandon their duties, wouldn’t it?”

“In a little while, it will be time for everyone to retire to their rooms.”

“Already?”

It was barely seven in the evening, just past dinner. Less than thirty minutes had passed since they had eaten the main course of turkey.

The sky had clouded over, making it dark prematurely, but seven o’clock felt far too early.

“Do you usually wander about so late? I wonder what the Margrave’s precious daughter has been doing, flitting about like that?”

However, by medieval standards, where not even incandescent bulbs, let alone fluorescent lights, had been invented, it seemed it was indeed time to prepare for bed.

Erich’s expression, which seemed poised to twist one eyebrow, did not appear to be merely nitpicking.

“Well, fine. If you don’t need alcohol.”

Erich picked up a fork from the table and tapped it against his glass. The clear, ringing sound of metal striking glass echoed a few times, drawing the attention of the guests.

A sudden, ominous premonition seized her, making every bone in her body creak.

“I thank you all for traveling to this arduous place to celebrate my engagement. It would be a great honor if you would also attend the upcoming wedding ceremony.”

He had spoken with a rude, almost ill-mannered tone just moments before, yet when addressing others, his speech was as refined and dignified as befit an Emperor.

“Though I wish to greet each guest individually, am I not merely a man awaiting the smile of the woman I love? My heart is filled with the desire to explore my wife’s home with her before returning to the Imperial Palace, so I shall take my leave. Please enjoy yourselves to your heart’s content.”

With those words, Erich unceremoniously seized Evening’s arm and pulled her along.

His demeanor was less that of a young lover eager for private time with his beloved, and more akin to a kidnapper feigning familiarity to drag an innocent maiden into a back alley.

“Oh, oh, whoa, wait, if we rush…”

The long train of her dress snagged, causing her to stumble precariously.

While one might naturally expect ‘such things’ to occur if two publicly declared lovers secretly disappeared, to announce it so openly was another matter entirely, and Evening’s face turned stark white.

The fact that it didn’t flush crimson was likely because they were practically strangers. No matter how handsome he was, she wasn’t prepared to willingly spend the night with him immediately upon meeting.

“You should have steeled yourself the moment you chose not to flee.”

Erich clicked his tongue, scoffing at her disgusted expression.

His words were so perfectly fitting for a tyrant that Evening couldn’t help but let out an involuntary laugh.