Duke Calvin sat at his desk and set down his pen, the freshly written letter lying before him.
He had finally made his decision and agreed to the marriage.
He had not called a family meeting or gathered the other family members to discuss it. This was the sort of matter he could decide himself.
If the lord of a family had to consult others over even this, what right did he have to call himself a duke?
As for the people involved, Louis and Emily, House Edmund's third daughter, their wishes did not matter at all.
In this ancient Empire, in this aristocratic society that prized bloodline and glory.
Children's marriages had always been bargaining chips their families used to make deals and advance their plans.
Love? That was a story poets invented.
For nobles, marriage was first and foremost a responsibility, a duty, an alliance, a means of exchanging benefits and securing their standing.
Having enjoyed the resources and prestige their status brought them, they naturally had to pay the corresponding price.
Of course, accepting did not mean holding the wedding immediately.
There were still many details to discuss. Nothing about an aristocratic marriage was simple.
What he needed to do now was send a reply.
One expressing his "preliminary willingness" to accept the match.
The letter also stated that they had to seek the emperor's approval before the engagement, informing him in advance.
He left that task to Duke Edmund because, among the Eight Great Families, Edmund was one of the nobles with a better relationship with the emperor.
Duke Calvin carefully checked the letter's contents.
There was no unnecessary sentiment and no excessive commitment. It merely expressed "preliminary acceptance," giving the other party plenty of respect while leaving him room to maneuver.
He nodded in satisfaction.