20. The Night Before the Wedding
When I returned to the ducal estate, my problem resolved, Hugues made time in his schedule to welcome me back.
“Is the problem solved?”
“Half of it. The other half, I’ll be solving from now on.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Yes. I’ll need a great deal of help from you, Hugues.”
When I told him this with a bright smile, he took my hand, pulled me into a light embrace, and kissed my cheek, whispering, “Welcome home.”
…
The wedding arrangements between our two families proceeded. We, the couple in question, had relatively little to do. Choosing our attire and providing a list of guests we wished to invite was about the extent of it.
A noble wedding is a union between two houses. Therefore, it is the current heads of the families… or more accurately, their wives… who advance the discussions. Hugues and I were simply swept along by the current.
The venue and the date were set, and our wedding attire was completed.
In what felt like the blink of an eye, the wedding was tomorrow. I had been polished and scrubbed from head to toe since morning, and I was told there would be a final round of polishing tomorrow.
I was leaning against the cushions of the bay window, gazing up at the starry sky, when a voice called from outside my door.
“Sheryl. Open the door.”
“Hugues?”
It probably wasn’t proper for us to meet in our nightclothes before the wedding, but I wrapped a shawl around my shoulders and opened the door.
He was holding a mug in each hand. No wonder he couldn’t open the door himself.
I sat on the sofa and lit the candles on the table. I had just been sitting idly in the dim room, as all that was left to do was sleep.
The mugs contained hot chocolate with marshmallows floating on top. I couldn’t help but smile a little at the childish drink. Hugues told me it was his custom to drink this the night before a nerve-wracking day.
“You know… when I first met my current mother, the very first thing she said to me was that I was unattractive. And she continued to say it, every day, until the party for my societal debut… the day I was reunited with you.”
“That’s…! That’s abuse, isn’t it? For your mother to do such a thing…!”
“Don’t be angry. I believe my mother had a reason. Because she loved me all that time. If I had truly been abused, I would never have been able to marry into a ducal house, and my bridal training would have been much longer and more severe.”
The look in Hugues’s eyes had changed, but he fell silent at my words.
“She told me that from the moment she met me, I was as pretty as an angel. And that now I’m as beautiful as a goddess… though I think that’s just a mother’s biased view.”
“No, you are as beautiful as a goddess.”
“Oh, you. …Thank you. Now, when you compliment me, I can finally accept it honestly, even if it’s not completely. My mother held me as I sobbed and called me her ‘sweet Sherrie.’ I don’t know her reasons. But… I am about to become your wife. I am no longer a child of that house. I am yours, the Duchess. When I have children, I will raise them by telling them they are beautiful, no matter what they look like. And if they are our children, they will most certainly be beautiful.”
“Sheryl…”
Hugues pulled me into his arms. He held all of me—my past, the curse that bound me, and my resolve.
Tomorrow, I would become this man’s wife.
I gently wrapped my arms around his back and closed my eyes. Soft lips descended upon mine.
There were no vows, but we kissed gently, again and again, as if to confirm our love for one another.