This Marriage Must End In Tragedy Chapter 1
Chapter 1: I Loathe Nightmares
The pistol was pressed cold and merciless against her thigh.
“Make it look more dazzling! The guests will be arriving any minute now!” The head maid’s irritable voice echoed through the great hall, rising above the soft chime of the cuckoo clock that struck six.
A crisp, punctual sound that signaled the hour. With a disapproving frown, the head maid turned toward Ansi, standing nearby.
“Rain, the ball is about to begin. Why haven’t you taken down the clock yet?”
“I’m sorry. I’ll take care of it right away.”
Removing the clock was not her duty, but Ansi offered no excuses. The last thing she wanted was to draw attention and be reassigned from hall duties over a minor dispute.
She hurried over to the wall, positioned a ladder, and climbed it briskly. As she reached up and detached the large ornamental clock from its place, the head maid muttered under her breath.
“Even the Duke of Orphe will be attending tonight. Everything must be perfect.”
The name struck her like a slap.
Ansi’s hand flinched at the name.
Suddenly, the gun strapped to her thigh felt like a slab of lead. Her senses zeroed in on that single point of weight. Was it still fastened securely? Had it shifted? Was there any bulge that showed through her maid’s uniform?
She gripped the clock tightly, her fingers clenching as if to steady her breath.
Moving one step at a time, she descended the ladder, stepping down as if on the name Orphe itself, each syllable a weight. Once her feet touched the ground, she turned swiftly on her heel.
Clutching the large clock, she exited the hall. It was a deliberate choice… She wanted to remove time itself from the revelry, allowing the guests to lose themselves in the illusion of timeless pleasure.
Once she had placed the clock in a room deep within the manor, she exhaled all at once. The air rushed from her lungs as if she had just taken off a tight corset. She repeated the motion several times, inhaling deeply and exhaling even harder, as though anchoring herself to reality.
Somewhere behind her, the bright, lyrical strains of string instruments began to rise from the hall.
The ball had officially begun.
Ansi’s face tensed with quiet resolve.
‘It’s alright. I can do this.’ she whispered to herself.
She smoothed her skirt, subtly checking that the pistol was still securely hidden, and walked forward, her countenance grim with determination. Somewhere within that hall, the young Duke of Orphe had already arrived.
The man with hair like wheaten silk and eyes that gleamed like gold.
Tonight, she was going to kill him.
The hall was already crowded with guests. Their chatter was bright and effervescent, like champagne flutes clinking.
Ansi scanned the room, masking her breathless tension behind routine gestures. Pretending to clear away empty dishes and rearranging misaligned wine glasses, she watched and listened. One by one, she took stock of every figure. Her eyes flickered from face to face, each movement precise and practiced.
The mingling of music and laughter was a dizzying swirl, a buzz in her ears like the restless wings of bees.
Then a voice, sharp and clear, cut through and caught her attention.
“Why’s everyone gathered over there?”
“They say someone from the House of Orphe has just arrived.”
“Really? Then I must go greet him at once.”
Ansi’s hand froze as she reached for a plate. Slowly, she lifted her gaze in the direction the young men were heading. A crowd had gathered at the far end of the hall, clustered around a grand settee.
Ansi felt her throat tightening as she swallowed hard. Her heartbeat became a galloping drumbeat in her chest.
‘He’s here. The Duke of Orphe is here.’
Fixing her eyes on the dense group, she began to walk forward, her feet heavy with the weight of intent. Her lips were pressed so tightly together that not even a breath could escape.
“How long will you be staying in the South?” a voice questioned.
“Unfortunately, I’ll be returning tomorrow. There are matters in the capital that require my attention.”
She could not yet see the man, but his smooth and casual voice grew clearer as she drew near. Her hand trembled as it drifted toward her skirt, fingers tracing the outline of the concealed weapon. She summoned the memory, over and over, of what it would feel like to fire it.
Then, from within the crowd, a loud and boorish voice slurred out, drunken and confrontational. It came from a middle-aged viscount, clearly drunk, slurring with the tone of a man aiming for a quarrel.
“Well now! I can tell just by looking at you that you’ve never known a hard day’s work, have you, lad?”
“I suppose not.” The young man answered as he let out a soft chuckle. It was calm, relaxed and… almost teasing. Ansi’s focus wavered.
Something felt wrong.
“You can’t know a man’s life just from how he appears now.”
Was that really Cardian’s voice?
Her steps began to falter.
“I know your type well,” the viscount sneered, louder now. “You people… blessed with fine parents, spoiled with wealth, and have never had a worry in the world.”
The viscount’s voice rose with a belligerent edge. Around him, faces in the crowd began to show signs of unease.
“ Perhaps that’s enough, Viscount Langis.” Someone interjected.
“Am I wrong? He’s never suffered, never known real hardship, and he has probably never even had a serious thought in his life! And he still has a bright future ahead! Ha! And you… what exactly do you do, anyway?”
“Your hair color reminds me of the hats worn by the Parma militia.” The young man replied, voice still bright, still unbothered.
“I was reminiscing about a time when something pierced through my head.”
“Wh-what in the world are you—?!”
The sound was made with his mouth. A sharp, playful imitation of a gunshot.
Startled, the viscount flinched violently and tumbled backward in fright, falling flat on his butt.
Gasps rang out as the crowd instinctively parted. The man, now seated squarely on the floor, looked utterly dumbfounded.
A few snickers escaped from among the nobles, and in that brief opening, the figure of the young man seated on the sofa came into view.
Ansi froze in place, stunned.
Her hand, which had been clenching her skirt, dropped limply to her side.
The man seated before her had neither ash-blond hair nor golden eyes.
The platinum-haired man who had been mimicking the action of aiming a rifle lowered his hand. A faint, lopsided smile tugged at his lips. For a fleeting moment, his violet eyes flicked toward Ansi.
She gasped and felt her breath caught in her throat. But the man quickly looked away and rose from the sofa. Then, he extended a hand toward the viscount who had fallen on his rear.
“My apologies if I startled you. I meant it in jest since Your Lordship seemed to be joking as well.”
Ansi turned on her heels. Her heart, which had seemed frozen just moments ago, suddenly surged back to life, thudding wildly. With trembling hands, she grabbed a bowl from the table without a thought and slipped out of the hall.
Night had fallen completely.
Ansi sat at the edge of the neglected fountain in the farthest corner of the garden. Her hand pressed firmly against her thigh… she could still feel the cold, hard shape of the pistol beneath the fabric.
Cardian de Orphe had not appeared… not even at dawn. She had searched the ballroom thoroughly, but he was nowhere to be found. Among the sea of faces that filled the estate tonight, not one of them was his.
Ansi lifted her skirt and drew the gun.
It was the weapon she had taken with her when she fled House Rubelsa. The weapon she had vowed would one day drive a bullet straight through his skull.
If he had shown up tonight, she had truly intended to kill him. It felt like the only way to end this festering hatred that grew heavier with each passing day.
The young duke of House Orphe.
He was the man who had killed her father and brother. The man who had dragged the name of the Rubelsa family through the mud, leaving their honor in tatters.
Tears fell as her mind wandered…
“I shall return soon.”
One year ago, her father, Count Rubelsa, was assigned as the temporary commander of a border region and departed for the front. Her brother, who was also a soldier, accompanied him.
The area had been in a truce for several years therefore the army had been reduced, and the deployment was considered routine and unremarkable.
But then, one night, war suddenly broke out and it was Count Rubelsa that had struck the first blow.
When he was informed that secret negotiations for a ceasefire between Belgader and Parma had been successfully concluded, he refused to accept reconciliation with the enemy and launched an attack.
That was a reckless and arrogant decision.
Belgader’s forces were decimated while Parma’s army surged forward and seized the neighboring territories.
Countless lives were lost and Count Rubelsa was among the dead.
He was shot and killed on the spot. Her brother, Derl, had been caught in the heart of an explosion.
“For inflicting enormous losses on human life and property on the Belgader Empire, the Count of Rubelsa shall be held responsible. All assets belonging to House Rubelsa are hereby confiscated in reparation.”
That was the Empire's decision.
The Rubelsa family lost everything. Every parcel of land, every valuable possession, all business rights, even their household staff.
Ansi’s plea that there had been a mistake was dismissed as the arrogant denial of a traitor.
They called her father a traitor, a disgrace to the nation. A man who sacrificed young soldiers for his own gain. The stares they received were filled with venom and hate, and all were directed at Ansi and her mother.
It was out of desperation that Ansi had gone to seek Cardian de Orphe… the man said to have delivered the truce news. She thought, perhaps, he might have made an error in his message. Perhaps he could offer some clarification, some way to salvage the truth.
But what she overheard in that mansion that day crushed every last glimmer of hope.
“I told the Count the ceasefire had failed, and Parma was preparing to invade.”
The voice of Cardian de Orphe was soft, almost tender, as if he were recounting an ordinary day.
“The Count likely concluded it was best to strike first, rather than wait to be attacked. He wouldn’t have known Parma had already reinforced their troops at the border.”
Cardian had lied to provoke an attack between the two countries. He fabricated a report, designed to manipulate the Count. This was beyond comprehension.
“He simply... irritated me.”
The man had laughed… a laugh so disturbingly serene, so chillingly cruel, that it hardly seemed human.
Even when she tried to return to the Orphe estate, and was turned away. Even as she fled south with her mother, dodging stones and curses hurled by strangers. Even when she shed the name “Ansi de Rubelsa” and took the alias “Rain” to work for Viscount Ziden, and barely stayed alive.
She had never let go of that moment.
And tonight, tonight had been her best chance to make it real.
Never again would she have the chance to get so close, to lower his guard, and to approach unnoticed. She had prepared so carefully and hidden herself so well.
And yet… that bastard hadn’t even shown up.
Ansi stared blankly at the pistol in her hand, then slowly raised it to her head, positioning it on her temple. The cold barrel pressed against her skin, and a shiver ran down her spine.
If only she could gift this sensation to that bastard Cardian.
“I’d rather you didn’t do that, not tonight.”
A voice… calm, male… cut through the silence. Ansi quickly yanked the gun back down, hiding it beneath her skirt and scanned her surroundings in alarm.
In the distance, leaning casually against a pergola column, stood the silhouette of a man.
‘Had he seen it? Had he seen the gun?’
Ansi’s heart pounded. Maybe, in this darkness, he didn't see it clearly… maybe she could talk her way out of it.
But then, the clouds parted. The moonlight spilled across the garden, illuminating everything, and Ansi’s breath hitched against her chest.
“I really loathe nightmares,” the man said calmly, his voice echoing in the quiet garden.
With skin as pale as the moonlight and hair of silvery white, the platinum-haired man looked at her and smiled.