Home/I confined you, but I have no ill will/ch 102

102.

In that strange dream space where only the two existed, Ibelin faced Unknown directly.

"If results matter, why show me the past as if making excuses—why call your enemy's granddaughter here?"

"...I'm making excuses?"

His eyes flickered—a crack in his composure. She pressed through.

He'd resented her grandfather, wanting to convey his selfishness, but that made it more telling. Resentment came from expectation.

"Don't you actually want this wretched cycle to stop? You say you want revenge, but is that really all?"

"Shut up!"

The space cracked like breaking glass—he was clearly shaken.

"What do you know—what could you possibly know! I, and we—"

He stopped, looking up as if coming to his senses. He said no more, just sat in silence.

She didn't press—just stayed quietly beside him.

Ibelin opened her eyes. Pale dawn light filtered through the window. She touched her damp forehead and steadied her breath. Today's Unknown had been like a lost ghost trapped in past wounds.

'But I can't just sympathize.'

Whatever his circumstances, he was the villain threatening her loved ones. His past and future crimes were reality—she wouldn't be swayed.

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Today was the engagement day.

From early morning, they'd been busy. Madame Dupont directed the maids.

"Quickly—time is short."

After a bath and grooming, she moved to the cathedral's waiting room. She put on the pale yellow dress with a full veil—white lace, delicate embroidery, a jeweled hairpiece.

'I can look this pretty!'

She admired herself in the mirror—but inside the dress was another story. Weapons were hidden within; it was closer to combat gear. Beauty itself became a weapon.

Her mind raced.

'Two fully loaded guns, three throwing knives, special smoke bombs.'

The weight of the leather straps on her thighs calmed her. She lowered the slit skirt, concealing everything.

A knock came.

"Ibelin—are you ready?"

"Yes—come in."

Kite entered in formal wear—he stopped and stared.

"...Lord Kite?"

When she called, he approached and embraced her.

"Lord Kite—you'll wrinkle the dress!"

Madame Dupont protested, but he didn't move.

"Too beautiful."

Her face flushed.

"I hate showing this to others."

"That's my line."

He was already handsome, and dressed up, he looked perfect. Even those who knew his character would fall for him.

"Ibelin."

He sighed, pulling back.

"I don't want to let you go."

"We have to—it's time."

"Yes—that's the problem."

She reached for her face, caught Madame Dupont's sharp look, and lowered her hand. Instead, she smoothed Kite's wrinkled clothes.

"Don't get a scratch—I'd never forgive myself."

"Don't worry."

She could answer firmly.

"I won't lose."

Their gazes met, sharp and cold like knights before battle.

---

The grand pipe organ filled the cathedral. Colored light streamed through stained glass.

Though a small ceremony, Emperor Leonhardt attended, along with carefully selected nobles.

"Good heavens—Archduke Gracias is getting engaged. I've lived to see it."

"Indeed—so he can love."

"Swordmasters are human too."

They whispered.

The organ swelled, and the priest stood at the altar. It was time.

The great doors opened.

With Kite escorting her, Ibelin appeared—surprise flickered on the guests' faces. A provincial noble lady, but more refined than expected. She carried herself well.

At the back, disguised Kailun sat. Watching his granddaughter shine, he secretly wiped tears.

'She's an angel!'

He couldn't help it—his handkerchief grew wet. Martin beside him looked oddly at him.

"I didn't know you could cry."

"I'm human—and don't talk, I'm watching."

He wiped his eyes quickly, not wanting to miss a moment. He'd have photos, but seeing it live was different.

Her discovering him was unexpected, but at least he could witness it.

He worried about what would come, but for now focused. Martin had already arranged things.

Among the guests were hidden Intelligence agents and Gracias knights. Their attendance was natural.

The invisible war had begun—against the Black Scorpion and Draven's schemes.

The priest spoke.

"Under the holy goddess's light, two noble souls take their first step together."

His solemn voice echoed. The guests watched Kite and Ibelin at the altar.

"Kite von Gracias, head of House Gracias, and Ibelin El Frillie of House Frillie—do you swear to be each other's shield and guiding star through any trial?"

"I swear."

"I swear."

Their simultaneous answer made the priest nod benevolently.

"May the goddess's light forever rest upon your vows. Now exchange tokens of your faith."

Kite took the ring and placed it on Ibelin's finger—she did the same.

"I now proclaim Kite von Gracias and Ibelin El Frillie betrothed before the Empire and heaven."

The priest raised a golden chalice of holy water, announcing the engagement.

The guests applauded. As it faded, the priest continued.

"Now, according to tradition, they shall each retire to separate chambers to receive the goddess's blessing."

Ibelin smiled and moved—Kite, unusually gentle, acknowledged the guests' congratulations.

At last—the time had come.

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