CH 8

The emperor stared at Cecile for a moment before replying, “I chose by throwing dice, not drawing lots. Ah, not by number. I picked the country that the dice stopped on.”

Cecile was rendered speechless by his explanation. Whatever the case, his choice was made with the complete absence of any tact, was it not?

Before Cecile knew it, as she was still feeling dazed, the emperor had carried her into the cathedral. She turned her head to look around the inside.

‘I knew it.’ 

The way she was looked at by the people outside was intense enough, but the daggers these gentlemen—who obviously looked like ministers of the empire—were shooting at her… The keen edge of their gazes was such that her skin pricked.

‘I mean, I thought the emperor would be the one showing this kind of reaction. What is going on here?’ 

Despite the menacing atmosphere, the emperor made a beeline for the altar. There he asked Cecile, “In Navitan, is it required to hold your bride throughout the wedding?” 

“…No.”

There was no such custom of escorting and carrying brides into the church at Navitan, to begin with. It was merely a tradition that was portrayed in one of the romance novels she read some time ago with the maidservants of her royal villa.

‘Things are going a little differently than what I expected?’ 

And ten hours later…

‘Things are going a little differently than what I expected?’ 

Cecile mused over the situation she watched Estian climb over her and take off his clothes.

* * *

The wedding was over in the blink of an eye.

“Have all the ceremonies finished within 10 minutes.” 

“That’s impossible, Your Majesty!” The pontiff burst out with a face on the verge of tears at Estian’s command. What wedding was done in 10 minutes?

“Even if proceedings are reduced to a minimum, prayers need to be given and hymns sung, so how…” 

“All you need to do is pray fast and sing faster.” 

“…”

Are you not even capable of that? The emperor’s gaze asked, and the pontiff could only gape in response.

“Why? Can’t do it?” Estian asked, then shifted his gaze from the pontiff and pointed to the high priest behind him. “You there, you look like a man who can pray and sing well.” 

“Yes?” 

“And you also look like you can pray fast and sing faster.” 

“…Ye-yes?”

“You’re the pontiff from now on. Well, what are you standing there for? The two of you, swap clothes.”

Thus the pontiff was replaced, just like that, and the priest who succeeded him worked a miracle of chanting all necessary prayers and singing hymns in but nine minutes. Though of course, he did collapse right afterward due to his lack of breathing throughout it all.

The wedding ended like so and 30 minutes later, Estian was sitting in his office. The imperial palace which could be seen out the windows was still beautifully decorated for the wedding, yet the groom-turned-husband felt nothing stir in his heart.

‘So it begins.’ 

It was publicly known that he went through marriage to silence the officials bothering him about it. However, Estian had a feeling that this marriage would bring about an even greater disturbance. His work had always been the same. Taking care of state affairs most of the time and waging casual wars from time to time. Since his enthronement, his daily routine had consisted of only these two things. But today that changed for the first time.

‘Cecile, was it?’ He had heard one of his officials who was standing next to him mutter her name, on and on. Estian pulled out a document from the end of his wide desk and began reading it. It was then that someone knocked on the door. “Enter.”