How to Win My Husband Over
Chapter 3
“No,” Iske said, shifting his gaze away from Ivan again.
“Why?”
“Because Ellen must’ve asked you to talk to me.”
“You know that, and you’re still doing this? I don’t understand why it always becomes my problem whenever you go crazy.”
“It’s not my fault you have a soft spot for my sister, you dumbass.”
Ivan knew denying it anymore would only make him look foolish, so he chose his next words carefully. “While you were beating our brothers-in-arms here, your bride arrived. I wasn’t expecting to be there to welcome her, but you should go, have dinner with her, and then consummate—”
“Sounds like a whole welcoming crew has already received her in my stead.”
Ivan groaned.
Iske tossed his helmet aside and smirked, undoing the straps of his gauntlets. “What, am I wrong?” he asked.
“I went there as a paladin of the North to keep an eye on the spy of Borgia—”
“Enough with your bullsh*t.”
“Sh*t. Okay, fine. I was curious. I wanted to see what the notorious daughter of the pope looks like. Can you blame me for that? If you don’t like it, why don’t you go see for yourself? You know who’s the real dumbass here? You, Iske van Omerta!”
A heavy silence filled the space between the two knights.
“I’m sorry. That was rude of me. I got a little worked up.”
“Okay.”
Even though Ivan was beautiful enough to be called the Flower Knight, he had a short fuse. It was no wonder he was friends with Iske.
“Don’t you have questions?” Ivan asked.
“Like what?”
“Like, does she look like her portrait? How is her personality? Aren’t you curious?”
“Not really.”
“Well, she is your wife. You should get to know her yourself. In that spirit, go and get yourself ready to perform your duty as her husband. I can’t stand to watch you become an international laughingstock like that Duke of Lembrandt.”
“If the pope declares gnomes to be impotent, people will start to think they reproduce by mitosis. How long do you think this farce will last?”
The truth was, no one believed the marriage would last long. The bride and the groom were both, well, handfuls. Some men were already placing their bets on how many weeks it would take before they got divorced. Ivan almost said Iske should have married Freya years ago, but he bit his tongue—he knew it wouldn’t do any good. Iske wasn’t going to understand anyway. Even though Ivan was joking, he had been his friend for forever and knew how he felt. Still, after escorting Rudbeckia de Borgia from Port Elmos to Omerta Castle, he had mixed feelings.
According to Sir Evanste, who had gone to Romana as the groom’s representative, she had been seasick the entire time. However, he noticed that she was as beautiful as the rumors described as she got off the ship and went inside the waiting carriage. With her glittering blond hair, clear blue eyes, and delicate features, she was stunning. At the same time, she looked fragile, as if she were about to shatter. Ivan felt a twinge of guilt thinking about that.
“She’s petite,” he said.
“What?”
“She’s petite. Really tiny.”
“Are you saying she’s a dwarf?”
“I’m saying she might die if you give her one of your nasty glares. I know you never wanted this, but you need to see the situation from her eyes. She’s practically a hostage. She must be lonely and scared.”
Iske, who was moving to sheathe his sword, stopped and stared at Ivan. “Who the hell are you?” he asked.
“I’m a knight of the North, a paladin, no less. And as the pope’s daughter, the Angel of Cistina, is here as my friend’s bride, it is my duty to—”
“Didn’t you say you wanted to kill the pope?”
“Oh, by the way, my sister cried when she heard you were getting married. You bastard.”
Ivan’s little sister was a six-year-old girl who still liked rocking horses.
“Tell her I’m not good enough for her and she should move on,” Iske said lightly.
“I already have, and now she thinks I’m a petty, jealous friend.”
“So she knows you well.”
“Anyway, my point is, your bride—”
But then another voice chimed in.
“I know Borgias are all demonically beautiful, but I didn’t know you would fall for her face so quickly. You sound like you’d betray the kingdom if she asked you to.”
The remark was downright rude.
Again, Ivan had a short fuse. Outraged, he turned, and at the same time, the man dashed forward and drew his sword, its well-sharpened blade glinting in the sunlight. It was reckless of him to provoke his seniors like that, even though he was stupidly fearless at his young age and had good reason to be so bold. But his seniors weren’t any different, and they showed him no mercy.
“Aaagh! I’m sorry! Aaaagh!”
“Do you want to lose an ear? Huh?”
“Aaagh! P-please!”
If anyone had seen them like that, they would have thought the two rogues were bullying a poor young squire. The fifteen-year-old boy had to scream for a long while before Ivan finally let him go.
“So, what was that about, Lorenzo?”
With tears in his eyes, the boy grasped both sides of his head to be sure he still had both ears. Then he gulped. With his arms crossed, Iske was looking down at him like a frost wolf emerging to hunt. Lorenzo felt pretty proud of himself for being brave enough to challenge him.
“It’s my sister.”
“What?”
“I mean, if you marry my sister after you end your current marriage, that’s fine by me, but until then, I must ask you to stay away from her.”
Iske didn’t say anything. He probably hadn’t heard the boy right.
Ivan shouted instead, “You need to explain yourself properly! Seriously, what’s wrong with kids these days?”
“I-I’m sorry. I’m asking Sir Iske to stay away from my sister until his marriage ends. Otherwise, the Witch of Borgia might torment her to death.”
“You need to watch your mouth. You’re still a kid. You shouldn’t be so prejudiced.”
“I-I’m not prejudiced! Why else would my sister be sobbing in her room after coming back from Omerta Castle? She’s never cried like that before.”
“Your sister came back from where?”
“Omerta Castle. She was having tea with Lady Elenia when the witch— I mean, Lady Rudbeckia, arrived.”
Aha. Ivan could name dozens of reasonable, natural reasons why Freya would cry after running into Rudbeckia, but he knew the overly righteous boy wouldn’t get it. Ivan thought Lorenzo’s deduction was ridiculous. Then Iske, who had been wearing a puzzled look, brusquely turned and strode away. Neither Ivan nor Lorenzo had time to stop him.
“Sir Iske?”
“Hey, Iske! Where are you going? Hey!”
“Sir Iske, we’re not done here yet— Aaaagh!”
“It’s the Day of Rest. I don’t know you.”
Iske couldn’t recite even a single line of prayer, and yet he took the Day of Rest seriously. Ivan looked around to see all the fellow knights Iske had beaten up, then rolled his eyes. The paladins, who had been listening to the conversation from the ground, replied with grim smiles.
***
“I heard you got seasick.”
The good thing about a long voyage was that I could skip meals and throw up, then blame it all on seasickness. I also liked that I was going farther away from my family every minute.
After days of sailing, we arrived at Erendille, the capital of Britanya. Then I was brought to Omerta Castle by a welcome convoy. Now, I was sitting alone with my sister-in-law, Elenia van Omerta, in a cold, antiquated hall.
“It was my first long journey. I’m afraid I’ve rarely left the South.”
“That’s nothing to be ashamed of. I’ve never left Erendille myself.”
Elenia looked so breathtakingly beautiful as she calmly spoke that I couldn’t believe she was human. I’d been surrounded by many good-looking people in my old life, but none compared to Elenia. She was tall and slender like a fashion model. Her features were delicate, as if carved from marble. Her silver hair tumbled down like a cascading waterfall, glistening blue in the dim light, and her eyes sparkled like red gems.
Those eyes amazed me the most. They were red, but I didn’t find them scary at all. If anything, the color suited her reserved, cold attitude and gave her an even more mysterious appearance.
It would be a crime to let this beautiful creature be killed so tragically. I was in awe of her beauty.
She tilted her head gracefully and asked, “Is the food not to your taste?” I had been told she was the same age as Rudbeckia, but she seemed much more mature in every way.
Though I could keenly read others’ body language and changes in their expressions, God had bestowed her with an impeccable poker face. I couldn’t read anything in it.
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