Spring in My Grasp - Chapter 48

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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(48) The Price of a Switched Marriage

“I never believed in God, but I do now. The fact that I saved you with my own power proves His existence. So God hasn’t abandoned me after all—that’s what I choose to believe.”
“….”
“If you were to disappear like that, I… I don’t think I could go on living.”
The final words carried such unbearable anguish that Rowan found herself at a loss for words, her lips sealing shut. A prolonged silence settled between them.
“Still, I’m grateful for one thing.”
Alexis suddenly laughed softly, as if attempting to shift the mood.
“Our child won’t need to carry the Glister name.”
“Yes, that’s true.”
Rowan smiled brightly.
“It’s wonderful that you can pass down the name the King himself bestowed upon you through your own merit.”
Nestled against his chest, she murmured softly.
“Then I’ll be called by that name as well.”
Whether it was Glister or Hartwood, she harbored no attachment to either.
“I wonder what that name will be?”
***
As if to satisfy the couple’s curiosity, the King promptly granted Alexis a new name and title, bestowing it upon him with the royal sword.
The King officially declared that Alexis would pursue an independent path as a Holy Knight with no connection to the Glister Family, and granted him the new name and peerage of Marquis Valerian.
For Alexis, a Holy Knight, the title itself held little practical significance, but this was the King’s way of elevating him to the ranks of nobility with his own hand. It was a declaration that Alexis, though aligned with the Temple Faction, also enjoyed the King’s favor.
The nobility was shocked once again. High Society descended into chaos. Particularly those nobles who had maintained friendly relations with the Glister Earl Family struggled to comprehend the situation, for they needed to understand it in order to determine their own stance.
Rowan, who had previously been called the eldest daughter of Marquis Hartwood, the second daughter-in-law of the Glister Family, and the wife of a Holy Knight, was now known as Marchioness Valerian.
Rowan was delighted by this. She loved seeing “To Marchioness Valerian” written in the letters that now arrived for her. However, while Rowan basked in happiness, there were those who fell into shock.
“Marquis Valerian?”
The Glister Earl Family was frozen in silence. No one dared speak easily. The only words that escaped Count Glister’s lips were those few. No one could approach the Count with his hardened expression and venture to speak. The same applied to the Countess and Francis’s couple.
“….”
Count Glister, who had been sitting with a gloomy expression, slowly rose from his seat. Not only had his second son, once a worthless burden, awakened as a Holy Knight, but the King himself had bestowed a name upon him and granted him a peerage. With the Count’s severance from his son who became a Holy Knight now publicly announced by the King’s own mouth, High Society would surely mock and ridicule the Glister Earl Family.
As Count Glister stood to head to his office, he glanced back at his son and daughter-in-law. Francis was rendered speechless by his father’s cold and fierce gaze. Count Glister was not a warm father, but neither was he an unfeeling or cold man.
Yet in this moment, he glared as if all the blame lay with this culprit. Audrey couldn’t even meet that gaze, simply keeping her mouth shut and remaining perfectly still. The Countess took to her sickbed from that day onward. Her heart burned with resentment that would not subside, and illness took root.
Just as the Glister Earl Family was shrouded in gloom, there was another place where despair crept in—the Hartwood Marquis Family.
“That insufferable creature….”
Marchioness Hartwood clenched her teeth and gripped her dress tightly. A Marchioness, the wife of a Holy Knight. As her husband’s position rose, so did Rowan’s.
This wasn’t what she had wanted. The Marchioness felt bitter regret. If she had known it would come to this, she wouldn’t have switched the marriages. Then it would be Layla who was now the Holy Knight’s wife. Her mind was consumed with such self-mockery and rage.
“That shameless creature calling herself a Marchioness! Mother! I’m so furious I think I’ll lose my mind!”
Already troubled, Layla, who had already married and left the household, wore a path to her family home with her constant visits. She had thought marrying into Baron Bedrick’s family would allow her to live well, but all her calculations had gone awry.
“How could they disrespect us like this?!”
Layla continued to shout. If Rowan were before her eyes at this moment, she would have wanted nothing more than to strike her across the face with all her might.
Soon, when her own wedding was to take place, she sent a letter asking Alexis—now a Holy Knight and her brother-in-law—to attend, but the reply that came back was merely that his body ached and he found it difficult to come. Layla, who had hoped that Alexis, being her brother-in-law regardless, would appear in brilliant and magnificent Holy Knight regalia to elevate her own standing, grew increasingly impatient, pressing Rowan repeatedly through letters.
Under the weight of those relentless demands, Alexis himself finally responded directly by letter. His reply was polite and cold—a firm refusal stating that his wife’s health was poor and he was preventing her from going out, so she should not make unreasonable requests.
Once Alexis sent such a response himself, neither Layla nor Marquis Hartwood could press Rowan any further. And so, on the very day of the wedding, Baron Bermo and Cedric questioned the Hartwood House with evident bewilderment.
When Cedric asked why his older sister and her husband were not attending, Layla answered that she was unwell. But from that point on, he grew cold toward Layla. His demands and pressure—questioning why she did not cultivate a closer relationship with her brother-in-law, now a Holy Knight—only intensified.
Watching Cedric treat her with cold disdain, as though she were something worthless, Layla felt the urge to spit in his face. During the wedding preparations, Cedric’s questions continued.
—Layla, will your sister-in-law and her husband be coming?
—Ah… n-no, they said her health was poor and attendance would be difficult!
—Then your brother, the Holy Knight, will not be attending either?
Cedric made no effort to hide his disappointment at that moment. It became glaringly obvious that, lacking competence himself, he was attempting to cultivate a connection with Alexis the Holy Knight to sustain his business ventures.
It turned out that Cedric was remarkably incompetent. The fact that the business and finances were being maintained at all was solely due to Baron Bedrick’s management; Cedric himself possessed no skills whatsoever.
The outwardly gentle, gentlemanly appearance was nothing but a snake’s shed skin. He was merely a wastrel accustomed to idle comfort in a wealthy household, embodying the characteristic laziness of his kind.
“Why did you change the marriage arrangements? Why?”
Marchioness Hartwood, who now heard even such reproach from Layla, was truly displeased. At the time, it had been Layla herself who had protested vehemently, saying she would rather die than marry the notorious second son of the Glister Earl Family.
Yet, as a mother, she could not possibly push Layla into such a marriage, so she had switched the arrangements between the two. But the result had turned out like this.
“Do you know how suffocating Cedric is to me? Living with that bastard is truly dreadful!”
Layla cried out in anguish. Her words contained not a shred of exaggeration. Cedric spent his time idling about, or occasionally toured the business establishments at Baron Bedrick’s behest—that was all.
When night fell, he would wander through the Entertainment District, and when he returned home, he was a complete wreck. The stench of alcohol, dust, and perfume… but that was not all. What of their intimate moments? They were utterly contemptible. He showed no respect for women whatsoever, concerned only with his own satisfaction.
“Did I know things would turn out like this?”
Finally, unable to endure it any longer, the Marchioness lashed out at Layla.
“It was you who cried and pleaded that you couldn’t go through with that marriage! I did it for you—did you think I did it to do Rowan some favor? Don’t you know that girl also cried and protested before her marriage, just like you did?”
At the Marchioness’s outcry, Layla fell silent for a moment. That’s right, it had been so. That marriage she had said she would rather die than enter… she had even thrown herself into the river and fallen ill because of it.
But now… as Layla sank into thought, Marquis Hartwood walked in behind her.
“Why do you keep coming here every single day when you’re a married woman?”
Marquis Hartwood, who had been fond of Layla despite her being his stepdaughter, now showed visible displeasure whenever he saw her lately, a far cry from the past.
“Go back at once and think about getting along well with Cedric!”
At Marquis Hartwood’s words, Layla’s face darkened. In truth, not only the Glister Earl Family but also House Bermo had become in-laws because Marquis Hartwood had sought to cultivate good relations.
But the successful eldest daughter showed her face not at all, and the second daughter, plagued by marital discord, frequently returned to her birth family, so Marquis Hartwood too was burning with fury inside.
“Your older sister, even when subjected to the humiliation of being driven to the Annex, at least maintains a firm grip on her husband’s affections. Learn something from your sister!”
At Marquis Hartwood’s comparison of her to Rowan, Layla’s heart filled with a cold, murderous resolve.
‘Very well. Just wait. I’ll see for myself what kind of married life that was—the one you fled from so desperately you nearly died.’
Layla’s eyes gleamed with icy intent.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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