Song Eun Ha had always felt at home with a sword in her hand. The rhythmic thrum of the blade cutting through the air, the calculated precision of every strike, it was all she had known. Her life in Korea was simple — a kendo player training day in and day out, always aiming for perfection, always pursuing the next challenge.

But nothing could have prepared her for the abrupt shift, the dizzying fall through worlds, and the overwhelming disorientation that followed. One moment, she was practicing her kendo moves beneath the quiet cherry blossoms, and the next, she was standing in the grand halls of an unfamiliar castle, the cold stone walls towering over her.

The Duke's mansion, with its gold-embellished furnishings and flowing tapestries, was a far cry from the modest dojo she had once called home. Yet, there she stood — not as a warrior, not as a master of her art — but as a wife. His wife. The unloved wife of Duke Renald Lethian, a man known across the lands for his strength and influence, but not for any affection he might have had for her.

Her marriage had been arranged without her consent, her existence as his wife nothing more than an afterthought. The whispers of the court said she was nothing more than a pawn, another name on a list, and even in her heart, Jiwoo could feel the cold truth of their words.

But there was something in her, a spark — the same fire that had guided her through countless battles in her old world. She wasn’t about to let this fate define her. The world around her was strange, but her sword was still by her side, and in this world of magic and politics, she would carve her own path.

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Song Eun Ha couldn't help but feel the weight of her situation pressing in on her as she stood in the heart of the Duke’s mansion. The towering stone walls and gilded furnishings felt like a cage, beautiful but cold. She had been thrust into this unfamiliar world with nothing but her training and her sword, and though the strange magic of this place swirled around her, her grip on reality remained steady. She would not let this world break her, not when her spirit still burned with the same fire that had always guided her.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching. A servant, with eyes lowered in respect, appeared before her. “My Lady,” the servant said, bowing, “The Duke requests your presence in the study.”

The Duke. Renald Lethian. His name carried with it the weight of power, yet it felt hollow when it was tied to her. Their marriage had been nothing more than an arrangement, a political maneuver that had stripped away her choices. He had never shown her affection — not even the barest amount of kindness. She had been nothing more than a symbol, another pawn in the court’s games.

“Lead the way,” Song Eun Ha said, her voice unwavering despite the churning in her stomach. Her life as a kendo player had taught her discipline and focus, and now, in this strange new world, those lessons would be her strength. She would not crumble.

The servant guided her through the halls, and the mansion’s overwhelming wealth and grandeur only seemed to deepen her sense of alienation. It felt like the world she had once known — the simple, familiar dojo — was a lifetime away.

As they reached the study, the door opened, and she stepped inside, her eyes immediately locking onto Duke Renald Lethian. He sat at the desk, his dark eyes cold as he looked up at her, as if expecting her to be nothing more than a decoration at his side.

Alexandria Valentine Lethian, Duchess of Lethian Duchy, entered the study with the same composed grace she always carried. The Duke’s gaze met hers, piercing and calculating, but she remained unmoved. It had been months since their marriage had bound her to him, and still, she was little more than a shadow in his world.

“Alexandria,” Duke Renald said, his voice lacking warmth. “Sit. We need to discuss matters of the Duchy.”

She stepped forward and took her seat across from him, the weight of the room pressing on her shoulders. The grand study was a fitting reflection of her marriage: cold, imposing, and impersonal. She wasn’t just his wife — she was a symbol, a fixture in the house, another line on the family tree.

“I’ve been waiting for you to speak to me about the Duchy’s affairs,” she replied, her voice cool but steady. “But it seems this is more of a formality than anything else, isn’t it?”

A flicker of something — annoyance, perhaps, or surprise — passed through his eyes, but Renald did not let it show. “You might be right,” he said, the words clipped. “However, there are things that must be handled, and I need you to do your part.”

Alexandria’s fingers tightened around the armrest, the only outward sign of her frustration. This was the life she had been forced into — a life of politeness and duties, with no room for warmth or affection. But in her heart, there was a fire that refused to die. She would not let her fate be sealed by a marriage of convenience. Not when there was so much more for her to claim.

Her sword — the one constant in this tumultuous journey — would guide her through the court's politics, through the intrigues and whispers. And if she could not carve out a place of her own in this world as the Duchess of Lethian, then she would forge a path of her own.

As Alexandria rose from her seat, the usual chill of his thoughts settled back in, like a familiar cloak. He had learned long ago to keep his emotions hidden beneath the surface — to keep his focus on the Duchy and the legacy he was trying to build. But something about her words had struck him in a way he hadn’t anticipated.

Renald watched her retreat toward the door, her back straight, her steps measured. The words she had spoken echoed in his mind, the challenge in her tone cutting through his practiced indifference. We are all bound to something, Renald. But it is not always what we expect.

For the first time in their months of marriage, he felt a ripple of something — something unsettling yet... intriguing. It wasn’t like the calculated coldness she had shown when they first met, nor was it the quiet acceptance he had expected from her. There was strength in her voice, a fire that reminded him of something he had buried long ago — something he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in years.

Renald had always assumed Alexandria was just another part of the Duchy’s political machinery. She had arrived at Lethian, a beautiful, unassuming figure, a tool to solidify his position. He had treated her as such, dismissing any notion of affection or partnership. But now, standing there, watching her back as she prepared to leave, he realized something unsettling: he didn’t quite understand her. And that, for the first time in his life, bothered him.

He wasn’t used to uncertainty.

“Alexandria,” he called out, his voice quieter than he intended. She paused by the door but didn’t turn around.

For a long moment, Renald didn’t speak. What was he supposed to say? For all his power and influence, this was something entirely out of his control. He had lived his life calculating every move, but Alexandria — she was a puzzle, one he couldn’t solve.

"Sit," he finally said, gesturing toward the seat she had just vacated. There was something in his voice that was more command than request, but also, just a flicker of... something softer. "We need to talk. For real this time."

Her heart skipped a beat as Renald’s words stopped her in her tracks. There was no mistaking the change in his tone. It was almost... tentative, unlike the firm, unyielding voice he had used for every other conversation they'd had. His words were usually authoritative, cold, but now, there was a slight tremor, a crack in the armor of his usual composure.

Song Eun Ha, no.. she was Alexandria now, hesitated, but only for a moment. What was the point of walking away when she had already spoken her mind? The silence between them had stretched long enough. She turned and walked back to the chair, her movements measured, though her mind raced. What game was he playing now?

As she sat across from him again, her eyes met his, and for the first time, she saw something shift behind his dark gaze. Something that wasn’t just the calculating coldness of a ruler. It was... uncertainty.

“What do you want from me, Renald?” Alexandria asked, her voice steady but with an edge that betrayed her curiosity. “You’ve never shown any interest in me before. Now, suddenly, you wish to talk?”

Renald looked at her, his brow furrowing slightly as if he were searching for the right words. He had never been good at expressing vulnerability, especially to someone he had spent months treating as nothing more than an ornament to his title. But for reasons he couldn’t explain, something about her — the challenge in her voice, the fire in her eyes — made him feel something he had long buried beneath duty and ambition.

“I don’t know,” Renald admitted, his tone quieter now, almost begrudging. “But I felt it. Something in what you said. The way you speak… You’re not like the other women in this court. You don’t just nod and accept things as they are. It’s…” He paused, a flicker of something uncomfortable crossing his face. “It’s different. And I don’t like it.”

Alexandria raised an eyebrow, intrigued but also slightly amused. “You don’t like it?”

“No,” Renald said, leaning back in his chair, a sense of weariness creeping into his posture. “I don’t like that I can’t control it. I don’t like that you challenge me. You make me... question everything.”

A heavy silence settled between them, the air thick with the weight of his admission. Alexandria could see it now — the Duke was a man who had built his life on control, on keeping everything within his grasp. She had come into his life like a storm, unsettling the calm waters he had so carefully crafted. But now, it seemed, the storm had left its mark.

“I never wanted to challenge you,” Alexandria said, her voice softening just slightly. “But you have to understand, Renald, this marriage is a prison. You may see me as your dutiful wife, but I am no one's pawn. I won't be treated like an object, not by you, and not by anyone.”

True, to Alexandria who was a princess of far away kingdom, this marriage was a prison. She was a princess who loved sword art but had to marry to this Empire for peace.

Renald’s gaze hardened, but this time, there was something behind it — not anger, but curiosity, and perhaps, just a trace of respect. He had never truly seen her for who she was until now.

“I never thought you would be,” he said quietly. “But it doesn’t make this easier, does it?”

Alexandria shook her head, but a small smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “No, it doesn’t. But perhaps we can make it easier. Not for us, but for the Duchy.”

Renald’s expression faltered, the walls he had so carefully built around himself seeming just a little less solid than they had been moments ago. “What do you mean?”

She met his gaze head-on. “There’s more to being a Duchess than staying silent and being a trophy. If you want to save this Duchy, if you want to make it strong, then we need to work together. But only if you’re willing to see me as more than just your wife.”

For the first time, Renald looked at her not as a political tool, but as a partner — someone who could help him, who could challenge him, who could see through the lies and the shadows of his world.

And as their gazes locked, he realized something else — something he had never felt before, not from the moment of their marriage, nor in all the months since.

He felt... alive.

But more than that, he felt something he hadn't realized he'd been missing: respect.

As Song Eun Ha made her way down the grand corridor, her thoughts drifted, and for the first time since arriving at Lethian, the memory of Alexandria merged with her own.

Long before this marriage, long before she had been swept away into the world of politics and ambition, she had been Princess Alexandria Valentine Haleberg, heir to a distant kingdom far from the Empire’s reach. A land where the wind carried the scent of cherry blossoms, where the hum of her sword striking against an opponent’s blade was the only music she needed. A place where peace was a rare but cherished commodity, and strength — not power — was what defined a person’s worth.

She had been born to a royal family that valued discipline, honor, and mastery over one’s own fate. From an early age, Alexandria had been trained in the ways of the sword, taught to fight with grace, precision, and purpose. In her home, there were no grand balls or political maneuvers. There were no marriage contracts designed to secure alliances. There were only the dojo, her teacher’s sharp guidance, and her endless pursuit of becoming the best swordswoman in the kingdom.

But peace, as she had learned far too soon, came at a price.

When war threatened the kingdom between the Empire, her father — a wise but pragmatic king — had made the decision to marry her off to the Duke of Lethian. This marriage would secure peace between their lands, and the kingdom’s future would be ensured. A wise decision on paper. But one that tore apart her dreams. Alexandria had been young, barely out of her teens, when she was presented with the offer. She was to become a mere pawn in the Empire’s game of politics.

Her family had never truly understood her love for the sword. They had expected her to be a princess in the truest sense of the word — poised, graceful, politically astute, and above all, a tool to be used for their greater goals. But Alexandria, or Song Eun Ha, had always felt out of place in a world that valued diplomacy over strength, politics over personal will.

And so, when the marriage contract had been signed, her heart had broken. The dojo was left behind. The sword, which had been her only constant, was left gathering dust. Her kingdom’s peace was now tied to a man she barely knew, to a Duchy that was as foreign to her as the court she now found herself in.

Her new life as Alexandria Valentine Lethian, the Duchess of Lethian, had been full of cold receptions, impersonal formalities, and long days of isolation. Renald had been a stranger to her, a man who saw her only as a necessary part of his ambition. Their union had been one of convenience, not passion. He was the ruler of Lethian Duchy, with no time for affection or frivolity. She, on the other hand, was a princess forced to submit to the rules of a foreign land.

But even as she found herself trapped in a marriage she never wanted, the fire in her heart — the same fire that had once driven her to wield a sword with unmatched precision — refused to die. Alexandria had accepted the reality of her situation, but she would not let it define her. No, she would carve out her place in this foreign land. Her sword, though far from her now, would still be her guide. It had never truly left her soul. And in this strange, new world, she would find her own purpose — even if it meant going against everything she had been taught.

Her back straightened as she walked through the halls, the echoes of her footsteps mixing with the quiet, measured rhythm of her thoughts. It was strange, how the emotions she had long buried were beginning to resurface. Renald’s change — his newfound willingness to talk, to acknowledge her presence as something more than just his wife — was a surprise, but not something she would allow herself to get swept away by. Not yet.

Her life as a princess had taught her one crucial lesson: Trust was a luxury. It was not something she gave freely, not something she would ever allow herself to expect. Alexandria had never been one to rely on others — not when her strength had always been her own.

Yet, Renald’s words had made her question her resolve, just for a moment. Maybe this marriage was more than just a prison. Maybe there was a way out, but she would have to take the reins herself. To mold it into something she could live with. Perhaps, just perhaps, she could find peace in this foreign land. Peace, not by being silenced, but by using the voice she had long since suppressed.

And in the back of her mind, the sharp image of her sword appeared once more. The weight of the hilt, the satisfaction of a perfect strike. Maybe one day, she would wield it again — not for battle, but to carve her own fate.

Renald had watched her leave, but instead of retreating into his own solitude, his mind was busy unraveling the moment they had just shared. He had always been so sure of himself, so certain that his power would carry him through. But Alexandria had shaken that certainty. She was like no other woman he had ever encountered.

He had married her to secure an alliance, a political move. But now, he saw that there was more to her than just her title or her lineage. There was fire, resolve, and something deeper — a strength that he could not easily control. She was not his puppet. And despite his best efforts to keep her at a distance, despite the cold indifference he had practiced for years, he found himself drawn to her — not just as his wife, but as a partner.

It was a strange feeling — this respect, this acknowledgment that perhaps their fates were tied not by political need, but by something more profound. Renald had built walls around himself for so long, and yet, Alexandria was the first to make him question their necessity.

Perhaps this marriage could be more than just an agreement. Perhaps it could be the beginning of something new. Not just for the Duchy, but for them both.

Alexandria paused in the hallway, her fingers brushing the cool stone walls as she turned to face the study one last time. It was a strange feeling, knowing that she had left something unsaid, something unresolved. But her journey here was far from over.

For now, her sword would remain her silent companion. But one day, when the time was right, she would pick it up once more — not for war, but for something greater. The question was, would Renald be by her side when that time came? Or would she have to fight this battle alone?