The Grand Duchess Hears the Song of the Raven - Chapter 1

“I already know that you are a fake.”

The man leaned forward over the wrinkled sheet. The woman’s eyes widened as she sat on the bed, looking up at him, her gaze trembling violently as if despair had taken hold of her. His voice, even lower and heavier than before, whispered again.

“Leila.”

“……!”

The man, who had whispered into her ear, grabbed her trembling body and knelt on one knee. Her gaze, which had been directed upward, followed his movements down. He sat at the edge of the bed, taking hold of her fragile, trembling hand.

“H-How…?”

Leila, overwhelmed by shock, couldn’t even utter a complete sentence. Her voice trembled, weak and sorrowful. She stuttered, unable to finish a single sentence perfectly, and yet the man gazed at her with the same expression, unconcerned.

Leila.

Her lack of a surname suggested that her social standing wasn’t particularly high. Abandoned by her parents at a young age under the pretense of poverty, Leila had nearly starved to death as a street orphan.

By her side had been an even younger sibling. As the older sister, Leila struggled to survive with her younger sibling, but it wasn’t easy. The only things the young children could do were beg and cry, so it was inevitable that they struggled.

Perhaps the heavens took pity on them, sending a benefactor. Lady Dilaia, a viscountess, took the siblings in without hesitation and gave them a warm place to stay.

Twenty years passed like that. Leila had grown into an experienced and diligent maid. She had begun working at the viscount’s house as soon as she entered, which allowed her to gain experience quickly. Thanks to that, Leila was able to establish herself easily and take care of her younger sibling as well.

Everything seemed to be going well. She had hoped that being abandoned by her parents and nearly dying on the streets was the extent of her misfortune, but fate was not so kind.

“You will leave for the mansion of Duke Draven.”

The moment several carriages and a letter from the imperial palace arrived, everything changed.

“…Pardon? What do you mean…?”

“Yuria has become the wife of Grand Duke Draven.”

Grand Duke Draven? Wasn’t he the notorious madman that everyone on the continent knew about?

Although the Grand Duke had accomplished many feats since his first battle at the age of fifteen, rumors swirled that he was so soaked in war and killing that he was no different from a demon. Some even said he had killed his first wife with his own hands.

“There is no more “Leila.” From now on, you are Yuria Dilaia. No, Yuria Draven is now your name.”

The emperor’s command, telling her to take such a man as her husband, was absolute. Of course, it was framed as a proposal to unite the imperial family with the viscount’s, but given that they had already sent the wedding gifts, it was as good as confirmed.

Lady Dilaia had no choice but to accept this arrangement. It was the only way to save her daughter and herself. How could a mere viscountess refuse the emperor’s command?

“You will leave in fifteen days. If you handle this well, you will achieve what you’ve long desired.”

The cold command lodged itself in Leila’s heart, never to be dislodged. A new wound formed alongside the one from being abandoned by her parents. Being cast aside for a second time didn’t hurt as much. Only a faint bitterness pricked at her heart. Leila forced herself to ignore the feeling and nodded.

Her life, which had been saved twenty years ago, might never have truly been hers to begin with.

No one could see the wound she bore. Even Leila herself turned away from it, allowing it to fester and bleed sorrow uncontrollably. The only thing she could see was the anxious face of Lady Dilaia, pacing around the room.

“Yes, he’s right. This is the only way to protect Yuria. We must do this to save Yuria…”

Muttering incomprehensibly, Lady Dilaia looked haggard, as if even watching her made one feel pity. After issuing her cruel order, the viscountess turned away, leaving Leila to bow politely and withdraw.

A few days later, Leila found herself wearing a dress she had never desired and sitting in a luxurious carriage.

The journey took a week, and upon arriving at the Grand Duke’s estate, it was unlike anything she could have ever compared. It was vast and grand.

There was no time to rest after the long journey. The wedding proceeded at a brisk pace, and before she knew it, only the vow and kiss remained to complete the ceremony.

The hand that lifted her delicate veil was large and rough, covered with scars from cuts and burns. However, despite its appearance, the hand moved cautiously. Beyond the raised veil, his ash-gray eyes instantly captured Leila’s gaze.

“…Leila.”

His eyes turned to her once more. Startled, Leila responded to the sound of her name. The wedding ceremony had ended, and they were no longer outside. The soft sensation beneath her reminded her of the bed they now shared.

The man, who had been watching her expression closely, slowly rose to his feet and said, “How I came to know this isn’t important to you.”

His eyelids moved slowly. His gray eyes, like the remnants of a fire that had burned brightly but now only left ashes, stayed still for a moment.

“What’s important now…”

Leila’s figure, stripped of the wedding dress made by dozens of craftsmen, was etched deeply into the man’s mind. As he felt the delicate texture of her hand, he moved closer.

Soon, their noses touched, and the man’s breath was so close that Leila could feel it on her skin. His silence broke as their faces nearly touched.

“Despite everything I know, you will remain here as the ‘Grand Duchess.'”

Thump! Was this what it felt like for one’s heart to sink? Leila averted her gaze as if trying to see through him, biting her lip. The fear growing within her doubled with each passing moment, consuming her.

“I…I…”

Her frail and sorrowful voice echoed quietly in the large room. Despite knowing the fear in her voice, the man remained unmoved. His scarred hand reached out, softly stroking her trembling shoulder.

Her pale, round shoulder shone in the faint moonlight that seeped through the window, glistening enticingly. His touch, as gentle as if handling broken glass, slowly moved down, grasping her slender arm.

“Ah!”

His hand was scorching and rough. The hardened calluses on his palm felt foreign and unfamiliar. As soon as she felt his touch, Leila froze, each sensation on her skin vividly felt.

“You will stay by my side as ‘Yuria Dilaia,’ as intended. If you do so…I won’t ask anything more.”

His voice was warm and gentle. The words that followed were so vague that it was hard to tell if they were a threat or advice. His masculine, sharp features exerted a subtle pressure.

He was known as a madman and murderer, yet upon first meeting him, he was handsome enough to make her forget the harsh reality before her. His thick eyebrows, slightly wrinkled eyes, the languid aura his eyelids exuded, and the strong bridge of his nose—all combined with his thin lips created an impressive appearance.

Leila gulped as she stared at his face, half-illuminated by the moonlight. His ash-gray hair, cut unevenly, seemed to suit him perfectly.

Without even realizing it, Leila’s gaze lingered on him, unable to tear herself away.

“Yes, that will do.”

He did not avoid her gaze either, staring calmly into her eyes. Far from avoiding her gaze, he even scrunched his brows slightly, forming a smile-like expression. He seemed to recall the moment, just hours earlier, when he had first lifted the veil and gazed into her eyes.