Chapter Text
Cerulean blue hair cascaded like a waterfall in the moonlight, framing her deep, mesmerizing dark blue eyes. Her elegant yet slender figure seemed to belong to a dream. How could anyone stand face-to-face with such beauty, alone, under the expanse of the night sky?
He certainly couldn’t explain it.
It had all started at a party—a dull, insufferable affair. The kind where every nobleman of the empire gathered to flaunt their titles and egos. The air inside felt stifling, heavy with false laughter and veiled insults. So he did what any sane person would: he got the hell out of there.
The balcony offered solace—a refuge from the monotony—and that’s when he saw her.
A vision in red, she leaned against the balustrade with a long, slender smoking pipe in hand. The faint glow of its embers danced in the dark, sending tendrils of smoke swirling elegantly around her. The crimson dress clung to her figure like a second skin, accentuating every graceful curve.
“P-Pardon me,” he stammered, startled by her presence. “I didn’t realize—”
“It’s quite alright,” she interrupted smoothly, turning toward him with a smile. “I don’t mind some company. I assume you’re here to escape the ruckus inside as well.” Her voice was soft but carried a subtle playfulness.
He chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his neck. “You could say that.”
Her eyes sparkled with amusement. “Oh, where are my manners?” She lowered her pipe gracefully, offering a curtsy that was both elegant and effortless. “I greet Your Grace, Duke Fullbuster. I am Lady Juvia of House Lockser.”
Lockser. The name immediately rang a bell. The late Marquis had left behind twins—a son and a daughter. Their existence was well-known and respected among the noble circles.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, my lady,” Gray said with a warm smile, bowing slightly.
“The honor is truly mine, Your Grace,” she replied with a light laugh, her voice melodic. “I never imagined I would meet the esteemed Duke in person, my brother has spoken highly of you”
“I’m surprised the Marquis has talked about me,” Gray chuckled, his tone light but curious. His eyes flickered with interest as he recalled his few encounters with Julius Lockser.
Their meetings had been brief and to the point, centered around trade agreements and border negotiations that required input from both noble houses. Julius wasn’t one for small talk or flattery, he’s a man of few words he cuts straight to the heart of the matter with sheer efficiency.
“I can’t say we’ve had the pleasure of many conversations,” Gray continued, his smile softening. “He strikes me as the kind of man who doesn’t tolerate nonsense. I’m quite honored to have made an impression on him.”
“Ah, yes, that’s my brother,” Juvia replied with a light giggle, raising her fan to her lips with an elegant motion. “He actually left just a few hours ago, muttering something about mountains of paperwork. He didn’t even wait for the desserts to be served.”
Gray raised a brow. “He just left you here?”
She chuckled, her laughter soft and melodic, like the gentle chime of bells in the evening breeze. “Oh, I do have my knight with me—though, knowing him, he’s likely drowning himself in wine somewhere. He swears it’s the only cure for his motion sickness.”
“Motion sickness? Really?” Gray tilted his head, his curiosity piqued.
Juvia giggled, raising her hand to cover her mouth. “He’s perfectly fine galloping across fields on horseback, but the moment he steps into a carriage, he turns greener than the countryside.”
Gray laughed, the sound mingling with hers under the starlit sky. “That… that is truly bizarre.”
“It is,” she replied, her eyes sparkling with amusement.
The sound of her laughter was intoxicating, and he found himself wishing he could hear it forever. They talked long into the night, their conversation flowing effortlessly as they stood on the balcony, oblivious to the passing hours. Beneath the moonlit sky, surrounded by the cool night air, it was as if the rest of the world had ceased to exist.
"What could possibly have happened to put that ridiculous look on your face?" Lyon Vastia, Gray's cousin, asked, his expression twisting in visible disgust as he regarded Gray’s unusually cheery smile and the faint blush coloring his cheeks.
“Nothing,” Gray replied with a sigh, though the dreamy tone in his voice betrayed him. He turned his attention to the window, gazing out at the passing scenery. Her face lingered in his mind—those mesmerizing blue eyes, her laugh, and the way the moonlight had danced along her cerulean hair. He bit his lip, trying to shake the image, but it only grew clearer.
Lyon raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his seat with a skeptical smirk. “Oh, come on. That’s not the face of ‘nothing.’ I’ve known you long enough to recognize when something—or someone—has gotten under your skin.”
Gray scoffed, crossing his arms as he shifted his gaze away from Lyon. “You’re imagining things. Can’t a guy just enjoy the scenery without being interrogated?”
“Enjoy the scenery?” Lyon repeated, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Sure. And pigs can fly. You look like someone who’s just been struck by Cupid’s arrow.”
Gray groaned, dragging a hand down his face before crossing his arms and leaning lazily against a nearby tree. His stance was nonchalant, but his irritation was written all over his face. “You’ve been spending too much time listening to Lady Meredy’s romance novel ramblings. They’re messing with your head.”
Lyon chuckled knowingly, shaking his head. “Deny it all you want, Gray, but you're not fooling anyone. I've seen that look before. Now, tell me—who is this mysterious lady that has you all starry-eyed?”
Gray hesitated, his mind battling between the urge to share his newfound excitement and the instinctive desire to keep this enchanting memory to himself. He finally exhaled softly, giving in slightly. "Alright, fine. If it’ll get you off my back... Her name is Juvia Lockser."
Lyon’s eyes widened. “ Lockser? As in the Marquis’ sister?” Gray nodded.
“Oh-ho…” Lyon’s grin grew wider. “I see. A dangerous one, then.”
“Dangerous?” Gray frowned, shooting him a confused look. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Gray,” Lyon said in a mock-serious tone, “The Lockser family isn’t exactly known for their carefree social mingling. Julius Lockser is practically a fortress in human form—stoic, sharp, and ruthless when it comes to politics. And as for Lady Juvia…” He paused, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “Rumor has it she’s turned down half the eligible bachelors in the empire. Apparently, she’s impossible to impress.”
Gray smirked slightly. “Well, if that’s true, she must have exceptionally good taste.”
Lyon groaned. “Gods help me, you’re smitten. ”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Gray muttered, but his heart betrayed him by skipping a beat.
“Face it,” Lyon teased, “You’re in deep.”
Lucy Heartfilia had long known that her life was not truly her own.
She sat in the grand drawing room of the Heartfilia estate, sunlight filtering through tall glass windows overlooking the gardens. The scent of roses mixed with the crisp edge of ink and parchment. Across from her, Count Jude Heartfilia sat with a stack of papers, his sharp gaze fixed on her.
“You will have the final say,” Jude said, his tone clipped. “But you’re expected to make a decision soon.”
Lucy’s eyes dropped to the list before her—a carefully curated selection of the empire’s most eligible bachelors. Every name represented wealth, power, and political advantage.
“Are all of these… necessary?” she asked, her voice tight.
“The Heartfilia legacy depends on you securing a strong match. Love,” her father’s mouth curled faintly, “is secondary to duty.”
Lucy’s gaze drifted down the list until one name stood out.
Marquis Julius Lockser
Her brows lifted. “Julius Lockser?”
Jude’s expression softened. “An excellent choice. House Lockser controls the eastern provinces—militarily and economically. Julius is known for his strategic mind and ruthless efficiency.”
Lucy’s mind raced. She had heard of Julius Lockser—the cold, calculating noble whose sharp political maneuvers left adversaries ruined.
“What would he expect from a wife?” Lucy asked.
“Practicality,” Jude said. “He’ll want someone well-mannered and politically astute. He’s not interested in romance—only results.”
Lucy's breath caught. No interest in romance.
If she married Julius, he wouldn’t demand affection or control. He would expect efficiency, not devotion. That meant freedom—something no other suitor would offer.
“Father,” Lucy said carefully, “when does the Marquis return to court?”
“He’s managing trade in the east but will return for the next imperial council.”
Lucy smiled faintly.
An escape. A man too cold for love would have no interest in binding her with it. Julius Lockser would grant her the independence she craved—as long as the appearance of their union remained intact.
“Shall we arrange a meeting?” Jude asked.
Lucy rose, smoothing down her gown. “Yes,” she said, her smile sharpening.
Julius Lockser would do quite nicely.