Reborn As Noble

Two days before the wedding.

Alf and Erinnete were busy overseeing the final preparations, ensuring everything was perfect for the big day. Meanwhile, Francesca was helping Eridith with her wedding gown in a nearby room.

”Hmmm… your horns,” Francesca muttered, frowning as she held up the delicate veil. ”The veil won’t fit properly like this.”

”Ehhh? Can’t you do something about it?” Eridith pouted, her eyes wide with disappointment. ”Francescaaa… I want to wear itttt!”

Francesca sighed, rubbing her temple as Eridith pouted like a child. ”You are a mature woman, not a child, Eridith.”

”But… but I want to wear it!” Eridith whined, her eyes shimmering with determination.

Francesca pinched the bridge of her nose. ”Your horns make it difficult to place the veil properly. If we force it, it’ll look awkward.”

”Can’t we modify it somehow? Maybe cut a little space for my horns?” Eridith suggested eagerly.

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”You want me to cut a beautifully handcrafted noble veil just to fit your stubborn dragon horns?” Francesca shot her a deadpan look.

”Yes!” Eridith replied without hesitation.

Francesca sighed again but smiled softly. ”Fine, fine. I’ll have the seamstress adjust it. But no more complaints, understood?”

”Yay! Francesca, you’re the best!” Eridith cheered, clapping her hands.

Francesca shook her head, unable to suppress a chuckle. ”Honestly, you’re more excited than a young noble lady getting married for the first time.”

”Of course I am! I’ve waited for Garius for so long!” Eridith huffed proudly. ”I’ll finally be his wife. And soon, I’ll give him strong dragon heirs—fufufu!”

Francesca’s smile twitched as she grabbed Eridith’s cheeks and pulled.

”Ow ow ow! What was that for?!” Eridith whined.

”Less talk about heirs, more focus on the wedding first!” Francesca scolded, shaking her head.

As the two continued their playful banter, the seamstresses hurriedly worked to adjust the veil, already accustomed to their lady’s antics.

Meanwhile, Garius was in a meeting with Hesbeirn and Rasdingen in the grand hall.

”My lord, the troops have been stationed throughout the region. The special unit is on patrol to ensure no one harms our people during the wedding,” Hesbeirn reported.

”Good,” Garius replied, his voice steady. He turned to Rasdingen. ”And what about your brother and your clan?”

”Aye, m’lord,” Rasdingen said, stroking his thick beard. ”Ye needn’t fret yerself. Our main water source—from the mountain, flowin’ down to the river and out to the sea—is bein’ guarded by me kin. Not a drop’ll be tampered with, mark me words. The beasts ’round there are nastier than a cave full o’ rockworms, so any fool tryin’ to mess with our water’ll be in for a world o’ hurt.”

Garius nodded in approval, leaning back slightly in his seat. ”Good. With the wedding bringing in nobles from all over, security is our top priority.”

Hesbeirn crossed his arms, his sharp eyes scanning the map laid out before them. ”The patrol squads near the border wall have increased their watch. If those fanatics from the Saint of Three Gods cult try anything, we’ll know immediately.”

Rasdingen let out a gruff chuckle, his voice rumbling like distant thunder. ”Aye, and if those daft zealots think they can poison our water, they’ll have to get through me kin first. We’ll send ’em runnin’ with their tails between their legs—or better yet, leave ’em feedin’ the fish in the river!”

Garius smirked. ”That’s what I like to hear. No risks, no surprises. This wedding will go smoothly, and I won’t tolerate anyone interfering.”

Hesbeirn nodded. ”Then I’ll continue overseeing the knight divisions. We’ve stationed them at all major points—estate, towns, villages, and patrol routes.”

Rasdingen cracked his knuckles, a mischievous glint in his eye. ”And I’ll make sure the supply routes stay open. Can’t have our guests goin’ hungry, now can we? Though I reckon some o’ those fancy nobles could stand to miss a meal or two—soft as overripe melons, the lot of ’em.”

Garius glanced at the map one last time before standing up. ”Good. Keep everything tight. If anything happens, report directly to me.”

As the meeting wrapped up, the heavy doors of the grand hall creaked open. Alf stepped inside, his usual composed demeanor intact.

”My lord, Lady Francesca requests your presence. The final preparations for the wedding attire require your approval.”

Garius let out a sigh, rubbing his temple. ”Even my own wedding requires paperwork…”

Hesbeirn smirked. ”It’s not paperwork this time, my lord. It’s fitting for your ceremonial attire. You’ll need to look presentable in front of all the nobles.”

Rasdingen let out a hearty laugh, his beard shaking with mirth. ”Aye, ye can’t go struttin’ about like some battle-scarred brute on yer weddin’ day, lad! Ye’ve got to shine like a gem in a dwarven forge—all polished and proper-like.”

Garius shot him a flat look. ”I should’ve known you’d enjoy this, Rasdingen.”

”Heh, I’m just lookin’ forward to seein’ how Eridith’ll react when she sees ye all dolled up. Bet she’ll be grinnin’ wider than a dragon sittin’ on a hoard o’ gold.”

Hesbeirn chuckled. ”Speaking of which, my lord, you do realize Lady Eridith has been bragging about this wedding to every noble she meets, right?”

Garius sighed again, shaking his head. ”I expected as much.”

Alf cleared his throat. ”Shall I escort you to Lady Francesca, my lord?”

Garius waved him off. ”No need. I’ll go.” He glanced at Hesbeirn and Rasdingen. ”Make sure everything stays in order. I don’t want anything ruining this event.”

Both men saluted. ”Understood, my lord.”

As Garius left the hall, he mentally prepared himself—not for battle, but for whatever extravagant attire Francesca had planned for him.

”Eridith, you stay here. You cannot see the groom before the wedding, and you know that,” Francesca said, her tone firm yet gentle.

”Hehe… I know,” Eridith replied, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

”Good. Now behave like a proper lady, not a child,” Francesca chided, though her lips twitched with a hint of amusement.

”Okay~” Eridith sang, plopping down on the couch with a dramatic sigh.

Francesca shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips, before heading out of the room, her personal maids following closely as they escorted her to her chambers.

Once she arrived, she found her husband, Lord Garius, already waiting for her. He leaned against the windowsill, arms crossed, his expression a blend of exhaustion and mild irritation.

”What now, Francesca? It’s still two days before the wedding. You’re far too excited about all this,” Garius said, raising an eyebrow.

Francesca smirked, closing the door behind her. ”Well, at least you’re keeping your promise to marry her. But don’t forget—if the other three find out about this… let’s just say I won’t be helping you anymore, dear.” Her tone was light, but the underlying warning was unmistakable.

Garius let out a long sigh, rubbing his temples. ”You really enjoy watching me suffer, don’t you, Francesca?”

Francesca stepped closer, a playful gleam in her eye. ”Of course not, dear~ I’m merely reminding you of your responsibilities as a man who makes far too many promises.”

Garius shot her a flat look. ”That was decades ago.”

”And yet, they still remember,” she replied sweetly, settling on the edge of the couch beside him. ”You know, dear, it’s rather amusing. You, the mighty Count Garius, feared across the battlefield, yet when it comes to women…”

She trailed off, laughing softly at the scowl that spread across his face.

”Tch. It’s not fear. It’s just… a headache I’d rather not deal with right now,” Garius muttered, leaning back.

Francesca tilted her head playfully. ”Then what will you do when they eventually come knocking? You did promise them, after all. It would be such a shame if your honorable reputation were marred because you abandoned a few poor, heartbroken maidens~”

Garius clicked his tongue in frustration. ”Damn it… This is exactly why I tried to keep this wedding quiet. But someone insisted on making a grand event out of it.”

Francesca giggled. ”Oh, I wonder who that could be?~”

Garius groaned, rubbing his face in exasperation. ”I swear, I need another drink.”

Francesca merely patted his shoulder, thoroughly amused. ”You’ll need more than that, dear. You’ll need a plan.”

( End of Chapter )