the Villainess they took for granted

Chapter 234: v2 Chapter 53: a father’s concern I

Three days after Adrian’s decision, the news of the imperial wedding was published throughout the Empire.

The announcement was brief, formal, and impossible to misunderstand.

His Imperial Majesty Emperor Adrian had announced his intention to marry Lady Marian Valmont, daughter of the Duke of Valmont, and the lady had accepted.

The wedding would take place on the tenth of September.

The speed of the announcement alone caused a stir.

There was little time for speculation before the Imperial Household began moving.

Invitations were prepared almost immediately, with the first dispatches sent to foreign courts and diplomatic missions. Those delegations would require the greatest time to travel, and the Imperial Household had no intention of allowing distance to interfere with the Emperor’s chosen date.

Invitations to the imperial family, great houses, senior officials, and members of the court followed.

The cathedral was notified.

The necessary ceremonies were arranged.

The Church began the formal announcement of the banns, proclaiming the intended marriage before the congregation for the first time, then again, and once more before the wedding.

Even that ancient custom was being compressed into the shortest period the Church could reasonably permit.

Everything was being rushed.

And yet nothing appeared disorganized.

That was the nature of the Imperial Household.

When the Emperor decided, the Empire moved.

For the capital, the news became impossible to escape.

Within days, preparations for the wedding were already visible everywhere.

For Valmont, however, the news had not yet arrived.

The distance between the capital and the duchy remained what it had always been.

And so, when the steward entered the Duke of Valmont’s study five days later, carrying a letter bearing the Valmont seal, the Duke had no idea what awaited him.

The steward looked unusually pleased.

The Duke noticed.

He said nothing.

”Your Grace.”

The letter was placed before him.

”A letter from Lady Marian.”

That caught his attention.

His hand immediately went toward it.

The steward’s expression remained suspiciously bright.

The Duke noticed it immediately.

”What is it?”

The steward’s smile widened.

”I believe you will be pleased, Your Grace.”

The Duke gave him a skeptical look.

He took the letter.

The seal was unmistakable.

Marian.

He broke it and unfolded the paper.

Father,

I hope you are well.

I have something rather important to tell you.

His Majesty asked me to marry him last night.

And I accepted.

The Duke stopped.

For several seconds, he simply stared at the words.

Then he continued.

I imagine this will come as a surprise, especially since everything happened rather suddenly. I had not expected any of this when I went to the ball, and yet by the end of the evening, everything had changed.

His brows drew together.

That, at least, sounded like Marian.

Impulsive perhaps.

But honest.

He continued reading.

The Imperial Household has already begun making arrangements, and I expect matters to proceed rather quickly. The date has not yet been decided, but I will write to you again as soon as it is settled.

The Duke leaned back slightly.

So there was no date yet.

That was good.

At least there was time.

He read on.

Please come to the capital as soon as you are able. I want you here for the preparations, and I want you beside me when the wedding takes place.

His expression softened.

Of course she did.

Whatever else had happened, Marian had always wanted her father near her for important moments.

Then came the final lines.

I know the journey from Valmont will take some time, so please do not wait for the date to be announced before making arrangements to leave.

There is much I would like to tell you in person.

The Duke’s gaze lingered on that sentence.

There was something Marian had not put into the letter.

Something she intended to tell him herself.

He wondered what it was.

Then he reached the final lines.

I hope you will be happy for me, Father.

I am very happy.

Your loving daughter,

Marian

--

The Duke slowly lowered the letter.

For several moments, he said nothing.

The steward watched him carefully.

”Your Grace?”

The Duke looked up.

”Leave me.”

The steward bowed.

”Yes, Your Grace.”

The door closed.

Silence returned to the study.

The Duke looked down at the letter again.

Then, unexpectedly, he almost laughed.

Not because the situation was amusing.

Because suddenly, a great many things had become difficult to understand.

Adrian.

Of all people.

He had not expected this.

Not this.

This past two years, the Duke had carried suspicions he had never voiced aloud.

Cassian’s disappearance.

The pressure that had gradually been placed upon Valmont.

The difficulties that had appeared one after another.

The timing.

The circumstances.

And Adrian.

Always Adrian.

He had wondered.

More than once.

Whether Adrian had somehow been involved in what had happened to Cassian.

Whether the pressure on Valmont had been deliberate.

Whether there had been a hand moving behind events that no one else could see.

But suspicion was not proof.

And, at first, the Duke had not even allowed himself to take the thought seriously.

Cassian had disappeared shortly after Adrian became Emperor.

So shortly after that the Duke could still remember the mourning bells.

The funeral had not even taken place.

The entire Imperial Household had been consumed by the death of the Emperor, by the succession, by the ceremonies and obligations that followed.

Adrian had lost his father.

And somewhere in the middle of all that, Cassian was gone.

The timing had unsettled the Duke.

Of course it had.

Who else had reason to hate Cassian?

The Duke had wondered.

He had thought of Adrian.

Then immediately dismissed the thought.

Not because he had no reason to suspect him.

Because he had no reason to believe him capable of it.

He had known Adrian for most of his life.

He had watched the boy grow into a Crown Prince.

He had seen him beside Marian for years.

Even in their last confrontation, Adrian had been angry and wounded, but he had still spoken to the Duke himself.

He had asked.

He had waited.

He had given Marian the freedom to choose.

The Duke could not reconcile that young man with the possibility of arranging someone’s death.

So he had pushed the thought away.

There was no proof.

Nothing.

Only timing.

Only instinct.

And Adrian was grieving his father.

The Duke had no desire to turn suspicion into accusation at such a time.

Then the months passed.

Adrian never came to him.

Never mentioned Cassian.

Never spoke of Marian.

Never demanded anything from Valmont.

For a while, the Duke thought perhaps he had been wrong.

Then the pressure began.

Small things at first.

An unexpected imperial decision here.

A complication there.

A financial difficulty that had not existed before.

Then another.

And another.

The Duke began to notice the pattern.

His suspicions returned.

Perhaps Adrian had not forgotten.

Perhaps he had simply chosen not to confront him directly.

Perhaps this was revenge.

For Cassian.

For Marian.

For Valmont’s refusal.

The thought was unpleasant.

But it was also the only explanation the Duke could find that made the pieces fit.

Even then, however, he never convinced himself completely.

Because Adrian never appeared.

There was no confession.

No threat.

No unmistakable order.

Nothing that could be traced back to him with certainty.

Only consequences.

And so the Duke kept his suspicions to himself.

He never told Marian.

He had no proof.

And if he told her what he suspected, she would only turn the blame upon herself.

She would wonder whether choosing Cassian had caused his death.

Whether everything that happened afterward had somehow been her fault.

The Duke would not do that to his daughter.

Besides, what would be the point?

Cassian was gone.

The past could not be undone.

And Adrian was Emperor.

Even if the Duke’s suspicions were correct, there was nothing he could do with them.

So he had kept silent.

He had watched.

And eventually, he had stopped expecting anything more to come of it.

Until now.

The Duke looked down at Marian’s letter.

His Majesty asked me to marry him last night.

His brows slowly drew together.

This was the one thing he had never anticipated.

He had suspected anger.

He had suspected resentment.

Perhaps revenge.

But he had never seriously considered that Adrian might still want Marian.

Not after she had chosen Cassian.

Not after the engagement had been dissolved.

Not after years of silence.

And certainly not after everything that had happened.

Yet Marian had accepted.

And she had written that she was happy.

The Duke stared at those words for a long moment.

Perhaps there was something he had failed to understand.

Perhaps Adrian had never stopped loving her.

Or perhaps the Duke was only trying to make sense of something that had happened too quickly to understand.

Either way, there was only one thing he could do.

He needed to go to the capital.

He needed to see Marian.

He needed to hear from her, in person, what had happened.

--

Tbc