Make Dark Fantasy Great Again-Chapter 8: Political Marriage (1)

Clunk. Thump.

Someone barged into the Bendel patriarch’s office without knocking and plopped down in the chair across from him. They even had the audacity to lean back crookedly, like they were about to demand the strongest drink in the house.

“...”

A deep sigh escaped the patriarch’s lips. That was all the punishment he could muster for such rudeness.

“I heard you returned about two weeks ago, but this is the first I’m seeing your face, Roera.”

Idore Bendel immediately set aside his work to greet his daughter.

“I don’t think I was ever such a welcome sight for you?”

Roera replied sarcastically, fidgeting with her hands and examining her nails.

While her attitude might seem disrespectful for a noble lady addressing her father, Idore merely smiled wryly. He always turned to shameful mush when it came to his prickly youngest daughter, especially since she’d been bringing honor to the family name.

“I’ve been hearing much of you lately. Well, how are you finding things there?”

Roera’s answer was extremely vague—she simply raised an eyebrow and shrugged.

“...I see. So glad you seem to be doing well.”

Silence stretched between them until the father’s hopes for a warm reunion faded.

“May I make a request?”

“A request? From you? That’s rare.”

Idore tried to recall the last time his daughter had asked him for anything. It had been so long he couldn’t even remember.

“It’s about the marriage between our family and Diltan. Let me handle it.”

“...That’s your request?”

Idore’s jaw dropped. Roera was the kind of girl he could never imagine marrying someone else. She’d always bristled against aristocratic expectations, even cutting ties with the family to wander on her own. They’d had no choice but to let her go, hoping she’d at least continue bringing glory to the Bendel name with her sword.

But now she was taking an interest in family matters? And such an important political alliance?

“It’s not such a difficult thing to ask. It’s better for both sides this way.”

Roera pressed on, sounding like a crafty mercenary haggling with a merchant.

“Honestly, does marrying off Risir to the Diltan’s second daughter make sense? Even if he’s taking up their name. I can already see them using it as an excuse to meddle in everything.”

“Hmm...”

It was a valid concern Idore already weighed. He was, after all, the family head who oversaw all their matters.

While matrilocal marriage did carry risks, he had a reason for gladly accepting the arrangement.

“The potential gains outweigh the risk.”

The Bendels weren’t some insignificant border family; there were limits to how much influence the Diltans could wield. They would surely demand numerous rights for taking a bastard under their family name, and Bendel would have to acquiesce to some of them.

But if they tried to cross the line, or showed any signs of doing so? Then it’d be a different story.

The justification would shift to Bendel’s side, and Bendel had more than enough power to act on that justification.

“It’s complicated.”

That’s how politics worked. But there was one way to simplify all this... and that was to follow Roera’s suggestion of marrying her to the Diltans.

As a direct descendent of Bendel, she carried far more weight than an illegitimate son. It would allow their family to exert influence over the Diltans instead.

And above all, this was Roera’s matter. She had forced Idore to give up any hopes of her marrying or helping the family.

It would be a shame to marry such an outstanding child to an insignificant family like Diltan, but he thought it would be overreaching to want more.

Idore could hardly refuse such an offer from the family’s perspective. But he was not just the patriarch, but also a father. He needed to understand his daughter’s sudden change of heart.

“I know you have no interest in family matters. Am I wrong, Roera?”

Roera shrugged noncommittally, neither affirming nor denying.

“I am curious as to why you suddenly have your eye on this political marriage.”

“It’s nothing special. I happened to see their young master, and he was to my taste.”

Her tone was far too dry to suggest love at first sight, but Idore didn’t notice.

“Hm...”

The man was her type? A simple reason. And it was, admittedly, the most important factor in a romantic relationship.

“I cannot tell myself, but rumors do tell he’s quite popular with the ladies. Hearing that from you, I suppose they have a discerning eye. Though...I never imagined you’d be interested in men.”

“As opposed to what, women?”

“That’s not what I meant— but well, nevermind. I suppose it’s natural at your age.”

“...Then are we done here?”

“Not quite.”

Idore finally revealed the details behind this political arrangement.

“You see, this marriage was actually arranged at the strong insistence of the Diltan young lady.”

Roera frowned in utter confusion. Yet, her earlier logic could be directly applied here too.

Risir was handsome. In terms of looks alone, he would not lose out even to that famous Diltan young master.

But he was a bastard. This was not a factor easily overlooked among nobles who valued lineage above all.

“...Why?”

“I know not the reason, but apparently, she holds a personal interest in Risir.”

“Ha.”

Roera snorted incredulously.

“What a queer girl. What does she know of him?”

“?”

“Well, anyway. We’re done here, yes?”

“...”

After a moment’s thought, Idore nodded.

“I shall present this change to the Diltans in a positive light.”

“Good. Glad we had this productive chat.”

Having gotten the answer she wanted, Roera swept out of the room in satisfaction.

This content is taken from freeweɓnovel.cѳm.

***“Pahh...”

Roera immediately went outside to take a breather. The suffocating feeling eased, but only slightly.

“Marriage...”

Until just yesterday, she didn’t have the slightest interest in marriage.

In fact, the idea still held zero appeal. She didn’t care for that Diltan pretty boy either. He was probably an insufferable noble prat. And if he was a playboy on top of that?

“Hell.”

Just imagining being stuck in a life of noble social niceties made her skin crawl.

Roera was content with her current life, free from the constraints of family, status, or convention. If possible, she wanted to keep it that way.

Yet she chose to marry. It wasn’t anyone’s coercion—it was her own choice.

Did she regret it? Absolutely. Her heart was screaming to take it back.

But she wouldn’t.

“...This is the right thing.”

Roera didn’t want her father meddling in Risir’s life anymore. She wanted him to find his own path, and she was the only one who could make that happen.

Oh, she knew he’d never asked for her help. He might not even want it. This was all just for her own satisfaction.

“...”

It was an act of desperation to atone for her past mistake—a shallow hope that, perhaps, he might recognize her efforts and change his heart.

For a moment, she considered simply apologizing sincerely.

“...Eugh~”

But she grimaced at the thought. She scratched her arms, feeling goosebumps.

Apologizing was meaningless, to begin with. It was far too late for that.

Roera remembered young Risir tearing up her letter, his face devoid of emotion. The scene had haunted her childhood. She had agonized over a way to have him accept her apology, to earn his forgiveness.

But alas, she couldn’t find an answer. If a simple apology could have fixed things, it never would have come to this.

Come to think of it, what’s he up to lately? He’s been going out all the time.

Suddenly curious, she wondered how Risir would react if he knew about her ‘sacrifice’. Would he be surprised? See her in a new light?

No way. He’d probably just ignore it, or even get upset that she’d stolen his chance to impress their father.

“That little...”

On careful thought, it was very possible.

Roera imagined Risir mistaking her intention and condemning her. She thought it would such an easy scene to imagine, and yet...

“...”

Strangely enough, she couldn’t quite picture his scornful reaction.

-...You really are the only one who cares about me, Roera.

Instead, she recalled their recent conversation. He had changed in a weird sort of way recently.

She knew it had to be insincere. Surely it was sarcasm.

“So do you know... I’m the only one for you...”

And yet, she couldn’t stop the corners of her mouth from lifting into a small smile.

***“So, Master, it seems I might be getting married.”

The next morning, I met up with Master at our usual spot behind the library. I immediately relayed the sudden news of my political marriage from yesterday.

“Risir is getting married?”

Master started mumbling to herself in shock.

“It can’t be. I don’t believe it.”