Chapter 137 – 13. Big Wedding (7)
Romuald stood with his arms folded in front of the chimney beside the observatory on the roof of the Winter Mansion, and was blown away by the harsh wind. He recalled the past while looking at the setting sun over the horizon between the vast mountain range and the great snowfield.
‘It is a black illusion. It’s like a mirage.’
The hem of the wedding coat was greatly fluttering. After dusk, the city chased away the darkness with bright lanterns and bonfires. Amidst the calm melodies of the wandering band, the passionate dancers created a beautiful sight to see.
‘Yes, there was a time when I too believed only in the power of oneself and ran amok. But I’ve come to realize that you can’t cut everything just by holding the hilt. No matter how strong the swordsmanship is, there are definitely things that cannot be overcome.’
‘But I heard that the first swordsman is the strongest swordsman in Britannia.’
‘Certainly there was a time when it was called that. However, that title, which was too much for me, made the current downfall. In my arrogance, I didn’t look around. I brutally rejected the help of those who needed my help.’
And finally it was night. The sky, faintly dyed pink, was pushed back by scarlet clouds and swallowed up by waves in the dark blue sky. It was the time of dogs and wolves. It was the end of a day that will never happen again in my life. After that, the baron, whose mind was confused, organized his thoughts.
‘Because they thought it was enough to cut off anything that bothered them.’
Even in the capital there is winter. It was a day of heavy snowfall that was unprecedented throughout Lumiere. Sensing that it was time to leave Dalpo’s teachings for the last time, the master said goodbye and gave the most important lesson.
‘It wasn’t like that, Romuald.’
Enlightenment.
‘It wasn’t like that.’
A clue to the highest level that any prosecutor can reach.
‘You have a talent that surpasses me. In the distant future, it may become the strongest person on this continent and reign. So, as it approaches reality in the future, we must not forget it. The sword in that hand shows how futile and fake the existence is.’
‘I do not know. Are you saying that all prosecutors in this world are swindlers, as you say?’
‘If it refers to those who are buried in illusions, then it must be so.’
A story from my childhood. At that time, Rom was just an immature child. That is why it is only now that I look back on that day. The kid finally became an adult and understood the will of his teacher.
‘Be ambitious. If you don’t want to be buried in illusions, you have to deal with them. True swordsmen are those who dream. Only those who open up their own lives and move forward resolutely reach the extreme.’
‘At the end…’
‘Seize your destiny and confidently become the owner. Devote yourself to trusting and relying on you as much as possible. I will too. If fate guides us, we will meet again someday.’
No two times What flows must be allowed to flow. That’s why Romuald Ardenn made a promise while realizing the land that stretches endlessly under the sky. Instead of blood-stained canyons and strong snowfall, I will protect this land full of joyful laughter and the heat that melts even the frozen ground.
“Here you are, Baron.”
Turning around at the gentle voice of her, Rome faced her maid Jang, who was rarely dressed in plain clothes. She was Marion, like her mother to the bride. Her nanny her, who had been with her since the days when her Marquis her had been carrying the surname of Aquitaine, was slightly moistening her eyes her, as if her feelings her were extraordinary.
“Maid.”
“I came to tell her that Françoise is waiting in front of the special room on the third floor. She has also indicated that she would like to have dinner with the courtiers, the duchess, the abbess, and other guests to congratulate them.”
Marion, carefully unfolding her scroll in her hand, showed it. The two sheets of luxurious paper had sentences pointing to the Gallic royal family, and she wrote them in her own handwriting in an antique style to prove her marriage to her.
One page declares that the marriage between Romuald Ardenne and Oriane Lemoant was legally established.
One page declares that the marriage between Romuald Ardennes and Lucienne Lemoant was legally established.
“The custom of Dongto is that if you entertain guests only until the last day of the reception, it is not considered wrong even if they do not show up. Accordingly, from today, Baron Iregan and her wife his will enjoy a honeymoon, and I have conveyed that it will be difficult for them to meet, so I hope you spend time like a newlywed.”
She was truly thorough. Before Rome could exclaim, Marion opened the third and last page of her scroll her and helped her read the words written on it. It was very impressive that the entire letter was embroidered stitch by stitch with gold thread instead of writing the coat of arms of the Gallic royal family.
“This?”
“It is the marriage certificate of the Baron and Françoise. Last night I saw that he was wearing a luxurious ring on her ring finger. I was worried that it might be presumptuous, but concubines have their own class, so I made it.”
A wife, a young lady, and a maid.
“I must thank you. I’m just saying this just in case, but it’s not presumptuous at all.”
It was just three certificates. It was a legal document pointing to a strong bond with those who do not value anyone. I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t necessary. After all, it was a car to prepare documents with Françoise separately while the reception was in progress.
“That’s fortunate. Lastly, I want you to tell me that Lord Temur and Lord Edward hope to see you on the last day of the reception.”
“It is a willing consideration. Could the head maid arrange the schedule for the eighth day in advance?”
“Of course. Because that is my job.”
Marion politely bowed her head. Rom bowed her head, too, to show her respect to her her, her nursemaid, of her her Oriane.
“I think I’ll keep the certificate in the safe. I’ll trust the maid’s eyes, so please ask for a sturdy yet pretty frame.”
“Yes, please leave it to me.”
The two smiled at each other and went down the stairs to the rooftop in turn. Marion, who had to entertain several distinguished guests who were staying on her second floor, did not stop and proceeded to the next landing without hesitation.
Her reddish carpet her, embroidered with different colored threads, was fluffy, and she walked along her thick road to meet her maid with long straight hair, visible in front of her. She approached her concubine in a dress that enhanced her dignity with a deep, elegant luster like ebony.
“Master, adult.”
“Francoise.”
Even in a large mansion in Amman, the corridor is a straight line. There was no way he would n’t be able to recognize Giabi, who was approaching from afar in a room filled with bright lights that were easy on the eyes of her. The concubine, who had been waiting for Rome, dressed up early, smiled and opened the door to the special room.
“Did you wait long?”
“No, even if it was, it would have been nice to have my heart pounding.”
“You say something extraordinary.”
Her hair was her, picked with a dense, tangle-free comb, was as bountiful as her breasts her, which could be felt even through her neat uniform her. The blush of her new bride’s shyness her also made her baron want to pounce on her at any moment.
“Madam and lady are waiting for you. I’m sorry, but please bear with me a little longer…”
Françoise, who felt his gaze scrutinizing me, said, conscious of his burning gaze her. After entering the room, I guessed the baron’s desire to indulge himself after tearing off my clothes right away. Thanks to that, I trembled, forevoding the situation that the three women, including me, would soon face.
“This way.”
Slowly, a secret passage opened.
“Come to think of it, today is the first time I’m writing myself.”
The baron, who entered the basement of the mansion following the comfortable and soft light, murmured in a satisfied voice. It was no wonder that he was happy with the feeling of falling, as he was going to celebrate the auspicious day of the auspicious day and put his first button on.
“It will be used almost every day from now on, right?”
“Okay.”
“The beginning of that monumental routine will begin right now.”
Rom nodded. The large underground space was originally designed to be illuminated by a nice candlestick at a certain distance, but for some reason, only a dimly calm light was guiding the two now. I could guess the reason without saying it.
In front of a pair of rectangular marble doors with delicately engraved beautiful patterns.
Françoise, holding the doorknob with her slender and fine hand, pushed it slowly. Opening the space reserved only for the baron’s amusement, he pointed inward and beckoned. He was invited to a bedroom where play was emphasized, like the monarch’s harem, which is common in Nasr and Vedas.
The Sabbath of the Sabbath, and when even the hour and minute hands pointed to the same number.
The wait was finally over. After entering with Rome and closing the door from the inside, Françoise pointed out the two females waiting for him near the bed.
“Then master, the Supreme West?”
He asked how he felt about the special welcome of the mother and daughter who were looking forward to spending the night with him, and even whispered.
“I’ll start a real wedding of bitches just for you…”
It’s called a bigamy.
