It turned out that the Duke de Walte had selected several candidates for the role of my future husband.
Among them were young men my age from noble families, as well as wealthy gentlemen. The oldest of them, it seemed, was over fifty.
I treated these viewings as something inevitable. It's foolish to resist when your father has already made a decision. He didn't care who I married, as long as he got as many benefits as possible from it. My older brother shared the same opinion.
After all, I was just a pawn in the hands of these two. One of them was a wealthy duke, and the other would inherit all his property. As for me... I'd be lucky if I wasn't just kicked out of the house.
Understanding my desperate situation, I couldn't act rashly. So I just pretended to resign myself to my fate and accepted everything as it was.
At least, that's the impression my relatives got.
I was never particularly smart, but this time I understood that everything depended on my resourcefulness. If I didn't want to end up as the wife of some elderly aristocrat, I had to do something.
Sink or swim, as they say.
The first meeting with a potential groom was scheduled for just a few days later. One of the luxurious capital's restaurants was chosen as the venue.
I had never been to such an establishment, but rumor had it that even the spoons and forks there were gold. At least, I came here for the magnificent food alone.
Yufil and I arrived first. My brother was supposed to be my “inspector” on this date. But I didn't care. With or without him, this date was doomed to fail.
Let him watch all he wants.
We took the pre-reserved table and began to wait. All this time, Yufil didn't stop lecturing me:
“Behave yourself. Don't you dare disgrace Father!”
“Of course, brother. I remember everything.”
The guy narrowed his eyes distrustfully. He tried to say something else to me, but fortunately, the ringing bell above the door at that moment saved me from his tedious speeches.
The waiter escorted the newly arrived visitors to our table.
I saw a lanky young man approaching us with his mother. Perhaps he was even better dressed than I was. His thin blonde hair was tied in a ponytail. They usually say about such people that they can't tear themselves away from the mirror.
Since Yufil had been drilling it into my head the whole way, I managed to remember not only his name but also his lineage.
This guy is the sole heir of Marquis Bronte, and concurrently the Admiral of the Imperial Fleet, who died many years ago. Since then, the estate has been managed by his mother, a woman with strict conservative views.
Although the Bronte family's status was lower than ours, they were respected by the Emperor. He even posthumously awarded the Marquis the Order of the Hero of the Empire.
The Marquis's fleet was one of the most powerful in the Empire. And in the future, all this inheritance would pass to Quell.
That was his name, by the way.
Given the glorious past of their family, it became obvious to me why the Duke chose this guy as one of the contenders. This man was ready to do anything to get noticed by the Emperor.
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
“Lord de Walte, glad to see you. Please forgive our lateness... There were unforeseen delays on the way.”
The grateful middle-aged lady extended her hand to my brother for a kiss. But he limited himself to a businesslike handshake.
“Greetings, Madame Bronte,” Yufil said dryly, “Do not apologize. We also just arrived.”
Yufil preferred to keep his distance from people, especially women. No wonder he ignored her. Nevertheless, the lady remained a little disappointed, although she didn't show it.
I pursed my lips when this woman didn't even greet me. After all, you could just be alone with my brother! I wouldn't mind at all.
Quell, who was completely under the control of his despotic mother, also didn't say a word to me. Even here, everyone ignores me... Is this even my date?
We sat down at the table, and after the waiter served the dishes, an uncertain pause hung over the table. The Marchioness Bronte gave me an appraising look.
“So this is the lady of the de Walte family?”
Just as I was about to open my mouth and introduce myself, Yufil didn't let me.
“Indeed. This is my younger sister. She was undergoing treatment for a while, so we are only able to introduce her to high society now.”
“Treatment? Is she ill with something?” the woman immediately asked.
“Nothing serious,” Yufil hastened to assure her, “Just a weak immune system. But she's fine now.”
While they talked about our engagement, they paid no attention to me. It was as if the guy was selling a cow, not marrying off his only sister.
A terribly boring dialogue without my participation ended with me losing track of time in this restaurant.
The Marchioness Bronte and her son were typical representatives of the aristocracy. In other words, thoroughly fake and intellectual.
“...the de Walte family is becoming increasingly well-known,” the Marchioness remarked prudently, “I think we are ready to consider the question of an alliance. And what do you say, Quell?”
For the first time, the heir of the Bronte family looked at me. Before this, he had been busy stirring sugar into his tea and paid me no attention.
“I think I don't consider her good enough for me.”
Yufil and I simultaneously choked.
“I am the son of the first Admiral of the Fleet,” he declared with unexpected arrogance, “And what can this girl offer me?”
I felt a surge of internal indignation. This brat had just publicly insulted me!
But my brother, instead of standing up for me, just squeezed my hand under the table. In his eyes, I read the unspoken phrase: “Don't you dare do anything!” Given the importance of the meeting, the guy definitely wouldn't tolerate failure.
“Son, don't jump to conclusions...”
Madame Bronte, who had taken a liking to Yufil's pretty face, tried to persuade her son.
“...The de Walte family is also quite successful. At least, we should consider their offer.” Quell Bronte pouted his lips like a seven-year-old boy.
The heir casually dismissed his mother. Apparently, it was the Marchioness who made him come here.
Taking her son's silence as agreement, the lady was satisfied.
“Well, then it's decided,” the Marchioness concluded, “Our next meeting will take place at the Duke's estate. I want to see how extensive your holdings are.”
“As you wish, Madam.”
The dinner continued to my great indignation. These two made a deal and didn't even ask my opinion! Who said I wanted to put up with this mama's boy for the rest of my days? Not to mention my orientation...
Well, in that case, you've left me no choice.
Kha!
When everyone was engrossed in the meal, I suddenly coughed, and then vomited blood right onto the table. Fake blood, of course. (Shortly before the meeting, I had deliberately swallowed a dye that looked like blood to put on a show).
And, it seemed to work.
When I splattered “blood” over half the dishes on the table, the Marchioness Bronte screamed and turned pale. Her son also almost fainted from fright. It turned out these softies were so afraid of the sight of mere blood.
But the most shocked was my older brother. Yufil stared at me with a horrified expression.
My would-be groom and his mother clung to each other as if they were sitting at the same table with a monster. The latter shouted in a trembling voice:
“Wh-what... What is this?!”
At that moment, I looked very weak, as if I were about to lose consciousness.
“Kha... P-please forgive me...” I coughed, “It seems my old illness is acting up...”
“Illness?!” exclaimed the Marchioness, “What illness? Didn't Lord de Walte say it was just a weak immune system...!”
“Indeed,” I shook my head weakly, confirming her words with my last strength, “But, you see, my condition has worsened... Kha. And not so long ago, the doctor gave me a new diagnosis.”
“D-diagnosis?”
“Infertility. Unfortunately, due to health problems, I won't be able to have children.” Dead silence fell over the table.
After my words, Yufil's enraged expression became even more pronounced. The guy couldn't believe I had actually said something like that out loud.
This diagnosis, without exaggeration, practically put an end to my future marriage prospects.
I wiped the blood from the corners of my lips.
“Please, forgive me... But since we were soon to become family, I decided I should be honest with you.”