If you don’t love me, I will die.

Having never been in a relationship in my life, I suddenly became a married man.

And somehow, my wife was the most beautiful woman in the Empire, Ania Brontë.

Predictably, my marriage became the hottest topic of gossip at aristocratic social gatherings.

“I hear that Lady Ania Brontë has married the eldest son of the Earl Radner.”
“Poor thing.”
“That Brontë? With Radner? Isn’t it somewhat beneath her?”

It reached my ears as well. My reaction was the same.

“Why would Ania Brontë marry the son of Earl Radner?”

Actually, I’m curious.

I wonder what made her decide to marry Edward, even before the wedding.

Unfortunately, there’s no way to find out why.

It would be ridiculous to ask Ania directly, “Why did you decide to marry me?”

In the first place, a marriage between nobles is a contract, not just a free love affair.

It’s better to think that there was some sort of deal between William Radner, head of the Radner family, and Valentine Brontë, head of the Brontë family.

Of course, that doesn’t change the fact that there was a deal.

In other words, from now on, I must live with Ania Brontë and build my future with my marriage with her in mind.

And…

“I have to do my best to survive…”
“What did you say?”

I sighed and looked out the window, and Ania, who had been dazed, asked.

“Nothing.”
“Well, you don’t look happy.”

Ania shook her head.

“What do you mean? How could I not be happy?”

I gingerly averted my gaze from Ania Brontë, who was smiling again.

How could I stay married to her when just a moment’s eye contact sent shivers down my spine?

My mind was already racing.

“… I see.”

At Ania’s words, I gazed into the distance and saw a mansion.

A mansion with a beautiful garden, not too grand, but not too modest either.

“This is the place where we will live together.”
“How exciting…”

But when I saw the mansion, I had contradictory feelings.

I was worried about my future marriage, but I also felt a strange sense of anticipation.

Was it Edward Radner’s feelings, or was it purely my own?

***

However, the marriage turned out to be just fine.

No, it was more than okay; it was uneventful.

Compared to the original where Ania Brontë made Edward Radner into her plaything, nothing of the sort happened.

“Boring…”

A week passed, and I often looked out the window. Being married hadn’t changed anything.

Ania Brontë’s last name was still Brontë, and I didn’t have the title of Earl Radner.

It was, in effect, a contractual marriage… I felt abandoned.

As I gazed out the window into the garden, I saw Anna Brontë tending it with her hands, unlike a typical duchess.

Wearing a wide-brimmed white hat and gloves on her hands, she diligently dug in the soil and planted flowers.

I wondered what she was working so hard on.

It was a small garden.
One full of goldenglows.

I guess she really loved them.

I’m pretty sure the author’s description of liking them was an off-handed line, but I never thought she’d like them that much.

“If I’d known, I’d have planted some….”

I muttered unconsciously, then slapped myself.

“Crazy. Crazy… Why would I do that?”

I must be crazy.

I don’t like Ania Brontë.

Often, when she’s tending her garden, picking out an outfit in her closet, or sitting idly sipping tea, I’ve unconsciously stared at her face, but I still don’t like her.

So, I made a conclusion.

Edward’s ego was slowly recovering.

Perhaps it’s because I possess his body; the body is his, but the mind is mine.

This is why I can’t keep up with his manners or swordsmanship.

But somehow, my love for Ania Brontë remains.

“I can’t even go out…”

Edward’s marriage is already the talk of the town.

Dukes, marquises, earls… all the big names in the empire are focused on our marriage.

It’s not that the marriage was particularly lavish, but the empire has been relatively peaceful lately.

This was one of the only interesting events in the past few months.

A newly married man is out and about instead of staying home with his wife.

A rumor would slowly make its rounds throughout noble circles.

“Mr. Radner and Mrs. Brontë must be estranged.”
“I hear the wife proposed marriage first.”
“You mean he’s had all he can take, and now he’s looking for someone else? Edward, what a man he is. He’s got one of the most beautiful women on the continent for a wife, yet he goes around like that.”
“I heard that the eldest son of the Earl Radner has been acting strange lately… I wonder if that’s why.”

I can only imagine.

If such a rumor were to get around, it would send Valentine Brontë, who couldn’t say no to his daughter, on a rampage.

“What do you think you’re doing, disrespecting my daughter!”

And Valentine Brontë would call William Radner right away.

“I hear your son has left my daughter alone! I demand an explanation, Earl Radner!”

Then, my father would come to me, furious and alarmed.

“From this moment onwards, do not step foot outside the manor!”

And he’ll have the servants and bodyguards watching me.

That shouldn’t happen.
Really…

“Hah… what should I do?”

I crossed my arms over the window sill and sighed deeply.

Then someone knocked on the door.

“My Lord?”
“Speak.”
“It’s time for lunch.”
“I’ll eat later.”
“……”

But there was no reply.

“What’s going on?”
“Am I free to speak…”
“Go on.”
“My Lady wishes to dine with-”
“I’ll eat later.”
“……”

Another silence.

“Why don’t you reply to me?”

In frustration, I slammed the door open, and the young maid looked up at me with tearful eyes.

“It’s because… the My Lady told me to bring My Lord at all costs… or else… she’ll put me in solitary confinement…”
“Hah…”

What a vile woman…

***

“My lord!”

I followed the maid to the dining room, where Ania Brontë smiled brightly and waved.

I’m pretty sure noble etiquette states you’re not supposed to greet people with a wave…

Well, when you’re a duchess of Ania Brontë’s stature, who can blame you for not always having perfect manners?

“You called for me.”
“Yes, my lord.”

She gently pulled out the chair next to me.

“Have a seat.”
“I’m sorry, but I’m not in the mood to eat right now.”
“But you should have a meal.”

Ania frowned as she puffed her cheeks.

“It’s healthy to eat on time.”
“I don’t usually eat at this time of day.”
“Then why don’t you do that from now on?”
“Why?”
“Because we’re married.”

A married couple…

From someone who doesn’t even love Edward.
From someone who sees him as a toy.

But I couldn’t bring myself to say no in front of Ania.

I’ve been sold, after all.
If this marriage was doomed, it would be my end as well.

“A married couple should eat together.”
“…I see.”

I ended up sitting on the edge of my seat.

Not because of Ania Brontë’s beauty but simply because the food on the table looked so delicious.

A whole roasted pig’s hind leg, the meat of a young goat roasted with all sorts of spices… potatoes, this, that, and the other.

It seems I found my appetite.

“Can you lead the prayer?”
“Sure.”

I clasped my hands together and recited a prayer. I never thought memorizing it when there was nothing else to do would come in handy.

“…Give us this day our daily bread.”

I finished my prayer and picked up my utensils, only to realize there was already food before my mouth.

“Eat.”

Ania Brontë was holding a spoon before my mouth.

“…What are you doing.”
“I hear that’s what all the young couples in the capital do these days.”
“The world must have gone mad.”
“Can’t you just eat it?”

I stared into Ania’s eyes in refusal… but I couldn’t win.

There was no way I could win her over with such a pleading look in her eyes.

“Aah~… please…”
“……”

I took it, unable to resist.

“Delicious.”
“Isn’t it?”

Ania cupped her hands under her chin and smiled broadly.

I had no idea what the hell she was thinking.