Lanche strolled through the garden, watching servants bustle about preparing for the wedding.

As the groom himself, he remained utterly relaxed.

Ahead, a beautiful girl stood quietly in a white dress, her long silver hair flowing gently in the breeze.

She stood among the flowers, her expression tinged with melancholy, making the blooms around her seem dull.

Spotting her, Lanche smiled and approached.

He loved chatting with pretty girls daily—just to lift his mood.

"Something troubling you?" he asked, drawing closer with a gentlemanly smile.

Kestia turned, recognizing him instantly, surprise flickering across her face.

Lanche didn’t know her. He bowed elegantly. "Good day, fair lady. No offense meant, but you seem troubled."

Kestia studied his clear, sincere eyes. He didn’t seem to seek her out.

Logically, Lanche shouldn’t know her. She’d stayed hidden; even Gorde hadn’t met her. Her "father," Viscount Clarein, handled everything publicly.

She’d only debut at the ceremony.

And now, her groom was chatting up a girl?

Though it was herself, Kestia felt uneasy. "What are you doing here?"

"Huh?" Lanche blinked. Who spoke like that on first meeting?

"Out for a stroll. I figured you’d dislike that atmosphere too," he replied calmly.

Kestia understood that, but not his lack of nerves. Everyone called him a good-for-nothing, marrying into a strange noble house.

Had he given up?

She glanced at him. "You’re relaxed. This wedding matters to many."

"Yes, the wedding’s important. The person isn’t," Lanche said offhandedly.

"And you? Upset over this wedding?"

"I suppose." Kestia tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Just wondering… how marrying someone you dislike affects life." She looked at him.

"Oh? Bound by an arranged marriage too?" Lanche chuckled.

"Yes. Can you answer?" Kestia pressed, gaze steady.

Lanche sensed she wanted to confide, but her approach felt awkward.

He thought carefully. "I don’t know. Many things affect life. Who you marry is probably least significant."

"Is that so? What if your spouse has no ability, bringing misfortune?" Kestia’s tone turned slightly sharp.

Lanche smiled. "Marrying someone incapable means your life was already unfortunate."

Kestia frowned. "Why?"

Seeing her genuine curiosity, Lanche decided to share his philosophy—the one that made his maids flee.

"First, no offense meant," he prefaced.

"Go on," Kestia said calmly, face expressionless. With her silver hair, she resembled a snow lotus on a high mountain—beautiful yet unapproachable.

Such a girl, used as a political pawn, likely clashed with her family. Chatting with her was trouble.

Lanche sighed inwardly. "If you marry someone you dislike, it means you lack the ability to find better—or to refuse demands."

"Either way, that life was already unhappy before marriage. Don’t blame the spouse."

Kestia’s frown deepened. If not for her anonymity, she’d think he mocked her.

This view blamed oneself. Could he just be a good-for-nothing?

Lanche wasn’t finished.

He gazed at the scenery. "I’m not telling you to give up. Since things are as they are, make the best choice you can now."

"We might be short-sighted or forced. But life is a series of choices, not a fixed train track."

He smiled at her. "Live well now. Be cautious with what you control. Stay optimistic about what you can’t."

He meant to comfort her.

Kestia stayed silent, seemingly not angry.

Seeing she understood, Lanche felt secretly pleased. Finally, not talking to a wall.

"Well, I should go. Hope this helps." He strode off with flair.

Wait—he forgot to exchange names!

Never mind. Staying cool mattered most.

Lanche walked away, head held high.

Kestia watched him, face still blank.

"Your Highness," two maids appeared beside her, standing guard.

"That useless human marrying into your house?" one said calmly. Gentle-looking, her words were sharp.

"He truly has no magic or combat aura," the other observed critically.

"At least he has some wit," Kestia murmured.

"But without strength, he’s useless," Lekui stated matter-of-factly.

In this world, power was everything.

"Your Highness, we should return. The ceremony starts soon," Liya whispered.

Kestia nodded, leaving with her maids in the opposite direction.

Lanche slipped back into the hall crowd unnoticed.

As the bride, Kestia headed backstage. Maids added decorations to her gown, styled her hair with ornaments, placed a bouquet in her hands.

They say a woman in a wedding dress is most beautiful. But gazing in the mirror, the girl remained expressionless.