The End of a Fake Marriage

Clack-clack.

In a haze of drowsy consciousness, Alexander watched the scenery whisk past outside the window. Familiar greenery, a familiar bridge, a sky he knew well.

Ah.

He knew this landscape. It was the view from his window on the way to Whitehall, the small town where he lived. The same view he’d seen every summer for four years, from the time he turned 13 until he was 16.

At that moment, a gentle voice interrupted him.

“How long are you going to pout like that, Sasha? Keep it up, and a goose will chase after you, thinking you’re its kin,” the elderly man said with a chuckle.

Alexander turned his head and looked at the old gentleman sitting in front of me, someone he longed to see, again and again.

Gunther Chambler. The very image of my grandfather.

“…… This must be a dream.”

The moment he recognized it, his consciousness became blurred, and before he knew it he had gone from being a viewer to a speaker.

“I’m not pouting!”

The dark-haired, blue-eyed boy sitting with his chin propped up grumbled as he looked out the window, riding the train that crossed the River Leverd en route to the trading city of Klimt.

The old gentleman who was organizing the newspapers he had read snickered and looked at his grandson through his reading glasses.

“Of course you are. Just look, your lips are practically sticking out right here.”

“A human mouth can’t stick out that far, Grandpa.”

“Then I guess my boy isn’t quite human.”

“Oh, you mean you’re not a man, Grandpa?”

“Well, I’ve heard some folks call me the son of the sea,” Gunther replied, with a hint of smugness in his tone.

Alexander’s expression of disbelief at his grandfather’s casual bragging finally broke through.

“You might have too many wrinkles for someone’s son.”

“Haha! Everyone is somebody’s son or daughter, no matter their age.”
Of course. Once again, Alexander found himself at a loss. His grandfather, Gunther Chambler, was never one to lose, even in these playful battles of wits with his grandson.

“I lost. I still have a long way to go to beat my grandfather with my mouth.”

“Keep up the good work.”

“Yes, Grandpa.”

As they looked at each other, sharing a smile, the brief rebellious moment faded into laughter. Relaxing from his formal posture, Alexander shifted slightly and let out his pent-up frustration.

“Did it really have to be today? Today was the finals! I was supposed to bring that arrogant Noah down a notch!”

Noah Hendrick, the second prince of the House of Leverd, and Alexander’s rival and also a childhood friend.

Gunther chuckled, adding to the conversation with intrigue.

“Are you talking about the Lion Club Riding Competition?”

“Yes!”

The Junior Riding Competition, which was held only once a year, was the day that Alexander looked forward to the most.

Perhaps because he inherited the blood of his grandfather, who was praised as the hero of Leverd, Alexander was born strong since birth. He was always a head taller than his peers, not to mention stronger. Add to that his fearlessness in the heat of battle. Everyone who saw him would always add a comment about how he was truly the grandson of a hero.

It was Alexander’s pride, his boast, and he had to win every single one of them, for there was to be no defeat or second place in his life.

But… this year’s riding competition had become out of reach because he’d been half-forced to accompany his grandfather on this trip. And this was the competition he had even placed a bet on with Noah!

“It’s unfortunate that our schedules overlap, but we can’t just delay the train schedule for the horse race.”

“Why don’t we just take the next one?”

“Then we have to wait two weeks?”

Alexander eventually shut his mouth at Gunther Chambler’s words.

It was unfair, but he had nothing to say in return. He was the one who first asked to go on his grandfather’s vacation. He didn’t know that the vacation schedule would be set so suddenly.

Gunther’s large, warm hand rested on Alexander’s head, ruffling his thick black hair in a gentle gesture.

“I apologize for picking the wrong date, Sasha. But since we’ve already set off, why not let go of what’s passed and focus on what’s yet to come?”

My grandfather, always wise and sweet.
My beloved hero.

Alexandre was willing, once again, to accept a graceful defeat for his grandfather. After all, stepping aside for his hero was an honorable loss.

“…The train schedule isn’t your fault, Grandpa. It’s fine. There’s always next year’s competition. Besides, it’s already obvious that I’m faster than Noah, so there’s no need to prove it.”

Alexander shrugged his shoulders and brushed off his regrets.

The boy’s face, now free of disappointment, glows with his usual confidence and intelligence. Gunther Chambler couldn’t help but smile proudly at his admirable grandson.

“Is this your first time going this far? If you can overcome the boredom, it’ll be a pretty good experience. Traveling leaves something behind, whether you like it or not.”

“With what?”

“Well, that’s something you won’t know just yet. You’ll understand either along the way or once the journey is over.”

The boy was young, but he wasn’t so stupid that he couldn’t understand the old man’s words that seemed to be full of experience. Gunther Chambler looked into his brilliant grandson’s eyes and stroked his head affectionately.

“I’m very curious to see what you’ll gain from this journey, Sasha,” he murmured.

Clank, clank.

Through the window of the speeding train, scenery entirely different from the cityscape rushed toward them.

***

Whitehall, really.

It was as boring as the countryside it was named after. The boy sighed briefly and stared out at the vast open sea.

What am I supposed to gain from this place, Grandpa?

Riding a horse or going hunting seemed much more worthwhile at this time. Or maybe playing tennis or cards would be nice. With only half a year left before starting at Brighton College, Alexandre felt these boring, wasted days were slipping through his fingers.

Seriously, I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for my grandfather. Six hours on a train only to arrive in the middle of nowhere.

The only consolation was that the sea was dazzlingly beautiful, as expected from a region famous for yachts.

Alexander stood barefoot on the warm, soft white sand and looked out over the horizon, wondering how to spend his time in this boring countryside.

Suddenly, a strange scream came from nowhere.

He turned his head toward the source and saw a muddy pig running toward him at a terrifying speed.

A pig. And not just any pig—one completely smeared with filth.

“Ugh… what on earth is that?”

Alexander, who turned pale as if he had seen something horrible, hesitated and stepped back. However, the pig, as if he had met someone he knew, was running straight toward him with its eyes wide open.

“Oh, hell—has that pig lost its mind?”

Alexander, known for his near-obsessive cleanliness, the kind who wouldn’t reuse even a single handkerchief, was utterly horrified as the filthy pig charged toward him at full speed. He turned and sprinted to escape.
Squeeeal!

However, the crazy pig did not give in and kept chasing him, and the sandy beach was so hollow that it was hard to walk.

Could pigs even be this quick? Sweat forming on his brow, Alexandre dodged the pig with a mixture of panic and calculation until he finally decided.

He was either going to get stepped on or eaten by that pig. Even if no one saw him, he couldn’t go away with the dishonor of losing to a pig.

He stood still and faced the pig running towards him head-on. And when the pig came within reach, he kicked it with all his might and pushed it into the sea.

Squeeal! Squeal!

The pig squealed and floundered in the ocean. Amazingly, the pig was still swimming and coming toward Alexander.

This pig had to be insane. “Look at that crazed gleam in its eyes!” Alexander shuddered and gave it another shove, just as—

“Hey, what do you think you’re doing!”

A voice boomed from behind, and before he could react, something heavy slammed into him.

Suddenly, his vision was filled with glimmering gold. A cascade of golden-brown hair sparkled like wheat in the sunlight as it swept before his eyes, and he tumbled onto the sand.