Marcus fastened the saddle to his horse. He was back at his father’s estate, where everyone was rushing around preparing for Marial’s arrival after the wedding. It did not matter that they would eventually settle at Marial’s estate in the east. For a few days she would be the daughter-in-law of the duke, and while their estate was grand, it did not compare to the opulence of the palace.
It was like they had all forgotten that Marial had come to the estate hundreds of times before. She had fallen on the estate grounds, had spent summers playing with his younger sisters, and had been the annoying thorn in his side when he was trying to play with his friend, the crown prince.
Now they all behaved like she was a true princess. He could understand their happiness about the match. Marcus’s older brother was not secure about his position. Rosalind’s inheritance was nearer to the capital, a place from where Marcus might rise further and become a duke himself. But with Marial’s estate, there was no such risk. He would be granted the title of a Count, in the tradition of the eastern regions, and live out his life without frequent interference in the capital’s politics. The whole estate almost vibrated with Edmund’s happiness over the change in Marcus’s fate.
He did not particularly care for the estate or the location. No matter which place he ended up calling his seat, most of his time would be spent off at war. He would come home to a princess, and he would be forever tied to the royal family and their desires. He would not just be a loyal subject, but a family member. A lot of responsibility came with the added wealth and status. It was a responsibility that he was realizing he did not want. He had earned glory from battle, and he wanted no more of it. Glory was empty, he’d come to realize. Glory did not make him forget the faces of the soldiers he had lost. Others called him a war hero, but there were no heroes in war. There were only men and women trying to survive in bloody, desperate chaos.
He couldn’t take more of that burden. Edmund would never admit it, but their growing wealth and the influence they held in court was due to Marcus’s service. When he stopped going off to war, or when he failed to return from it, that influence and the favorable treatment would fade.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
Now, he no longer cared. When the proposal arrived for Rosalind, he had been relieved. He knew the royal family offered him Marial as a way to not cause offense, but instead they had cut off his brief hope of freedom from connections and burdens.
But he was done. If he went off to war another time the resentment might make him turn to the other side. If he married Marial, he would be forever called upon, he would be made a fixture of the nation’s defense. It was selfish, but he had no desire to live the rest of his life that way. He did not need the money, and he did not want the fame. Most of all, he did not want the king’s daughter.
Marcus shuddered, not from the night cold. He thought of Marial’s sulking face from across the room. She’d shoved the engagement ring onto his finger like she hoped it had jagged edges. Rosalind might have been a pleasant companion at least, but Marial hated him.
He had no intention of being saddled with a woman who hated him. And he knew Marial, how petty she could be. It would be easy for her to make his life a nightmare, and she would. He knew the kinds of men she found handsome. Marial and his sister had discussed all the fashionable gentlemen at length during their time together. They both had loud voices and louder laughs, and it was impossible not to hear their conversation if one lived in the same house.
Marial had never had a betrothal like Rosalind or the crown prince, and so she’d had a passing fancy for many gentlemen, never pursuing any of them. None of the many, many men looked anything like Marcus. She liked men whose beauty was refined and polished. Men with smooth skin and longer hair, men who had both the money and the time to turn themselves into works of art.
She wouldn’t be silent about her displeasure, if she had to spend the rest of her life waking up to Marcus’s face, to his scars. Marcus smiled. It would be a happy ending for her. The king and queen would find her the kind of man she expected, and she would settle in the east with the picturesque life she envisioned as a teenage girl.
He wouldn’t be so lucky. His own fate was to abandon everything he had earned and gained, in exchange for his freedom. He’d lived as a soldier, so he was used to living without comforts. But he wasn’t used to living as a commoner. He would have to worry about where his money came from. More importantly, he would have to worry about not being caught.
