Chapter 35

When I first came to the Earl's mansion, I was only Mimosa Chaltry on paper, but now, as I am about to enter the ceremony hall escorted by Father, I will take a vow before God, sign the pledge in the temple, and finally become Mimosa Chaltry in the eyes of the world.

The wedding dress given to me by Father was a classic one, but I worked hard to embroider it in time for the ceremony. The top part remains quite simple, but the skirt is adorned with mimosa flowers and leaf motifs throughout. I had been told to go to bed early the day before, so for several days prior, I took naps and repeatedly embroidered, which left me a bit exhausted.

In the meantime, I wrote a letter. A short letter on a single sheet of notepaper. It simply said how much I was looking forward to the ceremony and thanked him for the dress. I decided to say the truly important things today, right now, and that was all I wrote in return.

Father is not particularly tall. He has a gentle appearance and is truly gentle, a bit nervous and easily swayed, and lacks social skills. But I think he is a strong person. When I was inside the house, I didn't really see Father as he truly is, but now I respect him.

Looking at Father, who is slightly taller than me in my heels, I show him the slightly swaying, puffed skirt of my dress.

The entire dress is embroidered with mimosa flowers and leaves, which are stylized as decorations. All the embroidery is done with shiny white thread, which glitters in the light, but most people would probably say the dress is quite modest.

I want to be sensitive to the feelings of those around me, but I don't want to be swayed by them. I want to be modest, but I also want to clearly express my own opinions.

I think the Norton Viscount family was a bit unbalanced. The understanding and gratitude towards Father, which I and Mother and Casablanca lacked, and Father's lack of self-assertion.

But I can see that Father cared for the family. Without the Earl of Chaltry's background check, Casablanca might have been sent off like this. Father never showed favoritism to anyone, except for his wife and Casablanca.

I know from the letter that he regrets it. But why should anyone be expected to be perfect? If I had properly expressed myself, it would have been fine. I escaped into books and embroidery, so everyone had their faults, and there were also good points.

Various thoughts run through my mind as I hear the murmur from the other side of the door. But what I most want to tell Father now is...

"Father, thank you for raising me to this point."

"Mimosa..."

"This embroidery is done with the budget you gave me, and I stitched it one stitch at a time, using the name you gave me as a motif. Isn't it beautiful?"

When I look at Father with a smile, he looks like he might cry.

Perhaps I wanted to apologize like in the letter. But today, I want to be sent off without apologies, with dignity.

"I am truly grateful. I will enter the Chaltry family, but I will definitely write to you. I will visit from time to time. I will always wish for you to find new happiness. I am happy."

"...Ah, Mimosa. Congratulations on your marriage."

Father, barely holding back his tears, says this and faces forward.

The door opens, and I walk down the aisle slowly to the solemn sound of the pipe organ.

In front of the altar, Percival, dressed in a white tuxedo, is waiting. Perhaps because he has never seen me in a wedding dress, he almost brings his hand to his eyes and quickly corrects his posture.

I have made up my mind, but I am a bit worried that I might freeze during the kiss. However, I think I have become less prone to brain freeze.

My husband, with his golden hair and blue eyes, is handsome by anyone's standards, but he is a bit... no, quite, cute on the inside.

And he is someone I can rely on. I can feel safe by his side.

In social settings, I will handle things, and Percival will ensure the safety of the capital. We can complement each other on our respective battlefields.

I can't keep looking down forever. I can't keep running away from everything. The things I have built up in the meantime will become my weapon, and if I can protect Percival even a little... I don't think anything was wasted.

I am handed over from Father's arm to Percival's, and Father moves to the side seat. Percival and I look at each other.

"I... get nervous easily, and I'm not particularly quick-witted."

"That's not true..."

"But I don't want to give up the spot next to you, Percival. So, ..."

The priest clears his throat, as if to say, "Save the rest for after the vows."

We smile at each other and turn to face the priest.

—We pledged our love to each other and vowed to support each other in all times, and I was recognized by God as Percival's wife.

During the subsequent kiss, Percival did freeze for about five seconds, but he recovered quickly, so I'll keep it a secret from the guests.

My husband, whom my beautiful sister disliked, is cuter and more handsome than he looks, the best husband.

From now on, our newlywed life will finally begin.

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The story up to the wedding is over, but the story of the married life that follows will continue, so this is not the final chapter. I look forward to your continued support!