Was Jeremiah Raniero, Duke of Karana, truly searching for a bride?
He didn’t seem like the kind of frivolous man who would resign from his post for the sake of bride-hunting.
Still, there had to be a reason for him to research the daughters of minor lords ahead of time.
Most men who seek out the company of young countesses are after romance.
Yet Jeremiah’s gentle smile and soft demeanor left his true intentions a mystery.
The only thing that was certain: if she could capture his heart, more than half of Annamaria’s troubles would be solved.
“And yet, why did it have to be Rosaria!?”
Throwing herself onto her bed after returning from Parsa Castle, she let out a groan.
“Did you see the way Rosaria looked at the Duke of Karana, Galileo?”
Galileo stretched luxuriously on the cat bed in the corner of the room.
“She had the eyes of a predator stalking its prey.”
“Those were the eyes of a maiden in love.”
“Really?”
“I saw the determination in her gaze—the resolve to make him hers, no matter what. If that isn’t love, then what is?”
“Isn’t that just hunting?”
“Love and hunting aren’t so different.”
Suddenly, Annamaria sprang up and strode over to the cluttered table, piled high with magic medicine bottles and grimoires, rolling up her dress sleeves.
“I can’t just sit around. Before Rosaria beats me to it, I have to make the first move and capture the Duke of Karana myself!”
She clattered bottles together and flipped open a grimoire.
“Are you making some kind of beauty powder for radiant skin?”
“How would that help? I’m obviously making a Potion of Love.”
“You’re planning to have the duke drink it? Isn’t that, well, a bit criminal?”
“The teachers at the Magic Academy used to brew Potions of Love for noble sons and daughters upon request. It’s legal, you know.”
She frowned and looked back over her shoulder.
“I personally think the kingdom should regulate it. But since only a select few sorcerers can even make a Potion of Love, it’s left to their ethics rather than government control.”
“Probably should be regulated. Right in front of me, there’s a sorcerer with questionable ethics.”
“I’ll admit, it’s a cowardly tactic. But before another epidemic breaks out, I need to secure enough Potion of Healing. For that, I have to become the Lady of Karana and secure the funds.”
Her hands froze for a moment.
“If only I could have done this sixteen years ago, my mother—and Rosaria’s—might still be alive.”
Sixteen years ago, a deadly plague swept through the kingdom.
It was the Blue Glaze Fever that is now predicted to return soon.
Only magic medicine could cure it, and many of the people perished because they couldn’t afford the costly potions.
Both counts gathered what funds they could to procure ingredients for magic medicine, but it wasn’t enough for all their subjects.
Annamaria’s mother, Sara, and Rosaria’s mother, Carlotta, nursed the sick in a refuge hut, contracted the illness, and died.
There was no magic medicine left; even other lords couldn’t spare any, as their regions had run dry too.
Some people recovered without the Potion of Healing—but their mothers did not.
“From what I’ve seen of the Duke of Karana, he seems like the sort who would deal with epidemics responsibly.”
“He is royalty, after all. His passion for Karana Province could waver at any time. I can’t afford for that to happen.”
“Then maybe it’s fine if Rosaria becomes his bride. She’d surely fund your medicine stockpiles. She must regret losing her mother as well. If she wins the duke’s heart honestly and without criminal means, wouldn’t that accomplish the same thing?”
Annamaria picked up the Groanwood from the table.
“Perhaps. I believe Rosaria would support the funding for magic medicine. But if it ends up that way, I’ll owe her for life! The magic medicine domain is the pride of the Fullranet Family, and yet I’d have to rely on her? That’s shameful. The Fullranet Family should stockpile potions on their own. The Romano Family can handle distributing the medicine when the epidemic comes.”
She squeezed too tightly, and the Groanwood let out a wailing “gyaa!”
“So it’s all about the Fullranet Family’s pride, then?”
“Exactly. That’s why I’ll make the Potion of Love.”
“It’s hard to tell whether that’s noble or base.”
No matter what Galileo said, Annamaria was determined to win this contest, using every talent at her disposal.
If love is capturing someone’s heart through beauty, personality, charm, or status, then it’s a matter of one’s inherent qualities or abilities.
For Annamaria, that ability was magic.
If she could use her magic to make a Potion of Love, then capturing someone’s heart through her talents was the same—at least, that’s what she believed.
She gently blew on her fingertip, igniting a tiny blue flame, and transferred it to the oil lamp.
When the orange flame burned, she waved her hand to extinguish the blue one.
She placed a tall tripod above the lamp, poured deep green liquid from a bottle into a beaker, and tossed in the Groanwood.
The Groanwood shrieked, “higyaa!”
As she looked down at the bubbling liquid, she couldn’t help but smile.
It was a beautiful color.
Afterwards.
After simmering it for seven days and seven nights, she finished the Potion of Love and sent a letter to the Duke of Karana.
[As an apology for my rudeness at the recent ball, I would like to bring you some traditional sweets from the Parsa Region.]
***
The best offense is a good defense.
She worried she might seem too forward, but his reply was pleasantly agreeable.
Two days after their correspondence, Annamaria baked Crohnés—traditional sweets from the Parsa Region, now containing the Potion of Love—and set out for Parsa Castle.
Cradling the basket of Crohnés in her lap, she enjoyed the pleasant jostling of the carriage.
Sitting opposite her, Galileo fixed her with a reproachful glare.
“Are you sure about this? Really sure?” He muttered under his breath.
Letting the wind from the window brush her cheek, Annamaria ignored Galileo’s mumbling—until the sound of pounding hooves thundered up from behind.
Startled, she leaned out the window, and saw Rosaria riding in hot pursuit, her knight—Rico, if memory served—at her side, whipping their white horse to catch up at full speed.
“Rosaria!? Why—?”
Galileo, now peering out the window with Annamaria, sounded exasperated.
“Ah, isn’t it obvious? She saw you all dressed up, climbing into your carriage with a basket, and panicked you’d beat her to it.”
“So she was spying on me?”
“Looks like it.”
“How obsessive!”
“You’re no different.”
Rosaria called out, “Fullranet Family carriage, halt!”
The coachman, startled, glanced back and gaped at the two riders gaining fast.
Annamaria quickly gave orders.
“Don’t stop, just keep going.”
“But that’s the Romano Family—”
“It doesn’t matter.”
While they argued, the carriage slowed, and Rosaria’s horse pulled up alongside.
“So, where are you headed, Annamaria? Knowing you, you must be up to something dubious.” Though catching her breath, Rosaria flashed a dazzling smile.
“How rude. I am simply bringing the Duke of Karana some traditional Parsa Region sweets, hoping he’ll take a liking to our culture and, by extension, to Karana.”
“How admirable. In that case, I’ll come along.”
“I must decline. It’s improper to show up with unexpected guests. Farewell!”
Thrusting her right hand out the window, Annamaria traced an invisible magic circle in the air and released it.
For just an instant, the magic circle shimmered in the sunlight before turning invisible and dropping at Rosaria’s horse’s feet.
The white horse neighed softly and suddenly halted.
Rosaria nearly pitched forward in the saddle, but managed to steady herself—though the horse refused to budge.
In that moment, the Fullranet Family’s carriage sped ahead, entering Parsa Castle.