Chapter 34 

Mark Hunt’s expression was filled with confusion. Who in the military would dare to speak to the Second Commander like this?

‘Well, if it were Schloitz, it might be possible….’

I had a vague gut feeling, but if Schloitz had taken this approach, he certainly wouldn’t have been as polite as me. 

“It seems you’re not well-versed in the rules of the social circle,” I continued.

“What are you suddenly talking about, Lady Lefevre?”

“Even if Lord Madros admires the Lefebvre family, is that admiration as strong as the bond he shares with Lord Procyon?”

“Yes. Of course…. Of course.”

“So, the order is wrong.”

“What do you mean?”

“Lord Madros should propose a private meeting to Lord Procyon first. Originally, my older brother hasn’t even joined, and he has no connection with Lord Madros so marriage negotiations are absurd.”

“What?”

“Can’t you understand me when I say it once?”

I nodded toward Mark Hunt.

“This is a military, Commander Mark Hunt.”

As soon as these words were spoken, Mark Hunt’s shoulders stiffened. A moment later, a faint sense of confusion appeared on his face.

“Sorry, Lady Lefevre. I didn’t hear you correctly. Could you please repeat?”

“Lord Madros should propose a private meeting to Procyon first.”

“I… I shouldn’t be telling Lord Madros to engage in such an important matter of marriage!”

“Didn’t you just tell me to do something as important as that?”

“Two days, maybe.”

“No, Lady Lefevre…!”

Having walked over and recorded the time myself, I added in a warm voice.

Mark Hunt’s mouth gradually closed. I pointed to the exit with my chin.

“You have exactly 25 hours from now. Run.”

“Lady Lefevre!”

***

“You want me to propose a private meeting to Schloitz Procyon again?” Lord Madros surprisingly asked 

“That…!”

“Do you think all of this is a joke?”

“No, no! Absolutely not! Oh dear!”

Lord Madros had taken his seat, flustered. He had been the Commander-in-Chief. At least, he could have continued to hold that prestigious position until his death and most Commanders-in-Chief served for decades.

But Madros was the first to be forced to step down after less than 15 years. All because of a damned boy who did an awful lot of good.

He was born into a family of traitors, and he dared to become Commander-in-Chief. That alone is enough to piss me off, but all the nobles and subjects of the kingdom, including the royal court, only talk about Schloitz. The youngest commander-in-chief, the knight who saved ten estates….

Lord Madros gritted his teeth and endured it, but he was now at the point of gnashing them. He should have disguised an accident to get rid of Schloitz Procyon when he first started to rise. In the blink of an eye, he had become an imposing figure in the military.

He had never imagined that he would stand so firmly in the military.

When he finally came to his senses, Madros had been stripped of his position as Commander-in-Chief, and his support base in the military was crumbling.

He initially explored various options wisely. Schloitz Procyon was unlucky, but he was still an impressive figure in the military, and he was the Commander-in-Chief.

It was a matter of pride, but there was no one greater than that bastard. Madros might resent him, but to preserve his dignity, tying himself through marriage to Schloitz, who had taken his place, was the best course of action.

So, he had proposed a private meeting right away.

After being rejected three times, he finally realized. That bastard hadn’t even refused out of politeness.

He was mocking Madros despite belonging to a noble family!

“Does that damn brat want to marry a princess? But he refused to meet them even though the queen has arranged meetings with him hundreds of times,” Madros grumbled.

“I know that!”

“That brat is acting like he’s the center of the world. He’s breaking traditions and making a complete fool out of me.”

One by one, his trusted allies were being removed from their positions. He wished that he had the impulsive nature of a young man who could take swift action and remove his enemies from the equation. His public reputation mattered little to him when it came to military matters.

He didn’t care about his reputation in society. All that mattered in the military was cutting away those who were in his way.

He was doing it slowly and methodically. He was unfortunate.

“Mark Hunt.”

“Yes, Lord Madros!”

“Wouldn’t you want to give up your position as the Second-in-Command as well? Do you really think that you, who are undoubtedly loyal to me, can maintain a high-ranking position under that arrogant brat? Of course, you might be able to maintain a lower-ranking position. But will he spare you?”

A faint flush crept onto Mark Hunt’s face.

“Commander Madros, please save me!”

“Alright, you want to live, don’t you?”

Madros chuckled as he spoke. He was a ruthless man.

“I want to live! I want to live!

“We can’t touch Schloitz Procyon.”

“…”

“Rafael Clovis. He’s nothing but a weakling.”

“What do you mean…?”

“His family is weak. With some persuasion, he could be convinced.”

Mark Hunt received a check with a considerable amount on it and swallowed hard.

“Ah, and about the marriage proposal?”

“Yes! Why are you forcing me like this? You didn’t even blink!”

“That Lefevre’s got quite the guts, acting this assertive.”

Most nobles, even if they were willing to marry, would spend at least a few months getting to know each other and assessing the situation, carefully watching each other’s reactions, but not Lefevre.

“All right. We should try another marriage proposal.”

“To Schloitz Procyon?”

“Why the hell would I bother proposing to that damned brat? Even if it’s a recommendation from a major noble, it’s not the king’s order, so there’s no need to follow it. Anyway, all we need to do is make another marriage proposal.”

‘I am going to make my son propose to the only daughter of the Lefevre family’

***

“Sorry, but have you lost your mind?”

I chuckled at Rafael’s comment. I looked at the beautifully written letter containing the marriage proposal.

“I didn’t expect Lord Madros to actually prepare a proposal.”

“This doesn’t look like a pure marriage proposal, though. It seems more like a power struggle, doesn’t it?”

“That’s how the lives of nobles are supposed to be… I’ve been living obediently in a life that’s all about political marriages.”

The letter had arrived earlier when I was in the office for Opatz. It wasn’t my office, but a small secondary office next to Schloitz’s.

It was obvious that Lord Madros had brought it with a vengeance. It didn’t matter that I was a Lefevre, it was the son of Lord Madros who had brought this marriage proposal and a bouquet of flowers.

Yeah. They must have a reputation to uphold.

The army cheered, and Raphael, whose cheeks were now sunken in, jumped up and down from his work. It was a proposal that was so obvious to anyone who saw it, it was no wonder he was stunned.

They’re probably scared of Lefevre.

“Commander Vlandea?”

“What?”

“Are you going to refuse?”

“Of course I will refuse. Did you think I would accept?”

“No…. let me rephrase the question. You’re refusing so quickly?”

I couldn’t help but chuckle. It hadn’t even been ten minutes since I received the proposal. According to social conventions, even if it were an unremarkable person’s proposal or even if I intended to reject it completely, it was considered virtuous to wait a week before giving a response.

In a similar vein, I could hear the young Madros, who was waiting outside, sulking. He knew that he wouldn’t receive an answer today, but he still lingered for about thirty minutes.

But it was for the best.

“Are you going to reject it? It’s not even a social gathering here.”

I didn’t care about my social reputation, and this wasn’t a social gathering. If it were, my reputation might have taken a bit of a hit, but that didn’t matter.

Firstly, I wasn’t afraid of gossip, and secondly, I had no intention of getting married. Therefore, there was no need for me to pay any attention to my social standing.

I finished writing my response, including a famous poem often quoted when rejecting a proposal. I waited until the ink dried completely, pressed it with my finger to check if it wouldn’t smear, and neatly folded the dry letter into an envelope.

“Lady Vlandea”

As I stood up and walked away, I could hear hurried footsteps following me.

When we got outside, Young Lord Madros, who had been talking to Mark Hunt, turned to me in surprise. It seemed that I had come out too early, and he was taken aback.

“Lady Lefevre, my dear…”

How surprised must he have been to stammer like that.

I handed the letter to him without a word. It was obvious that it had been delivered by Lord Madros himself, given the exquisite engagement ring and bouquet of flowers.

“Is that what this is about, Lady Lefevre?”

I took a step back to allow him to read my response. Lord Madros stared at the letter for a moment, and I wondered if he was trembling. Perhaps that was just my imagination.

Either way, he seemed quite composed.

It was just as I had expected.

I said nothing and watched as he opened the letter. As anticipated, Lord Madros did not show any signs of shock or surprise on his face. After all, we had only just met, and in this era of political engagements, people often knew each other’s faces roughly. It seemed that he had decided to put on this ridiculous show himself,

probably pushed by his father.