A Formal Proposal

At The Foster Estate.

The study was dimly lit, the scent of aged parchment and fine oak blending with the faint aroma of tea. Heavy bookshelves lined the walls, filled with tomes of history, economics, and various accounts of noble lineage. The crackling fireplace cast flickering shadows against the dark mahogany furniture, accentuating the tense atmosphere that settled between the two figures seated within the room.

At the large, polished desk sat Oscar Foster, the current head of House Foster. His dark brown hair was neatly combed back, his beard well-trimmed yet slightly bushy, giving him the look of a man both refined and aged by responsibility. A monocle rested over his right eye, enhancing his scrutinizing gaze as he studied the young woman before him. He was dressed in a dark brown, tailored suit—impeccable, yet unadorned with any insignia of high nobility, a testament to his family's modest standing among the aristocracy.

Across from him, seated with an air of poise, was Elara Arden.

She sipped her tea in an unhurried manner, her long chestnut-brown hair cascading over her shoulders in silky waves. Her teal-green eyes, sharp and observant, met Oscar's own with a smile that was both radiant and unreadable—warm yet undeniably purposeful.

Oscar inwardly sighed. He knew who she was, of course. Elara Arden, the third eldest daughter of House Arden.

Her presence alone carried weight.

House Arden – The Industrial Powerhouse

House Arden was one of the most influential noble families within the kingdom, standing at the forefront of mana-technology development. Their industry was responsible for the production of mana-infused weapons, armor, and various enchanted equipment that supplied the kingdom's military, adventurers, and even private mercenary factions.

For over two centuries, the Arden family had dominated this sector, securing their power and influence through economic supremacy rather than political maneuvering. While they did not hold a ducal title, their wealth and industrial prowess ensured that even the royal family kept a close relationship with them.

Mana-Infused Weaponry – Unlike standard magical weapons, Arden-manufactured arms could be wielded by even those without magical affinity, making them highly sought after.

Automated Constructs – They pioneered magitech golems and automated defense systems, revolutionizing security for noble households and military bases.

Energy Refinement Techniques – Their exclusive methods of extracting and refining mana crystals from deep within the kingdom's mines allowed for unparalleled energy efficiency in weapons and artifacts.

By contrast, House Foster was a noble family without military, political, or industrial significance. Their standing was built solely on old wealth and financial investments, keeping them relevant in aristocratic circles but far from the levels of nobility that dictated national policy.

They held no military power.

They held no political sway.

They merely existed—comfortable, but unremarkable.

So why was an Arden here?

And more importantly—why had Elara Arden personally come to visit, instead of sending an envoy?

Oscar had been notified late last night of her arrival, and despite the lack of formal explanation, she was immediately granted accommodation. The Arden family's status alone demanded the utmost courtesy.

But now, as she sat before him, radiating quiet confidence, he was still in the dark.

Elara finally broke the silence.

Setting her teacup down gently, she folded her hands over her lap and spoke in a measured, almost casual tone.

"Would you like to know the purpose of my visit, Lord Foster?"

Oscar leaned forward slightly, his fingers interlocking. His expression remained neutral, though the curiosity behind his eyes was evident.

"I would," he admitted, his voice calm yet expectant. "I must say, I was rather surprised by such an unannounced visit from a daughter of House Arden. I assume there must be a matter of great importance at hand?"

Elara's lips curled slightly.

"Indeed."

She reached into the folds of her attire and pulled out a finely sealed letter, the Arden family crest imprinted upon the wax.

"My family has proposed an arrangement," she stated, her tone unchanging. "An arranged marriage, to be precise."

Oscar's expression froze.

For the first time in their conversation, his composed demeanor wavered. His fingers twitched slightly, his lips parting before he quickly shut them again, as if he needed a moment to process her words.

The air between them turned heavier, the crackling fire suddenly louder in the silence that followed.

Elara, as if enjoying his stunned reaction, merely lifted her teacup again, taking a slow sip.

Clearing his throat, Oscar finally found his voice.

"I beg your pardon?" His voice bordered between disbelief and sheer confusion.

Elara raised an eyebrow, as if surprised he was even questioning it.

"You heard me correctly, Lord Foster," she repeated, her voice smooth and unwavering. "House Arden has officially proposed a marriage arrangement. Between myself… and the third eldest son of House Foster."

With that, she elegantly lifted the letter, holding it just enough for him to see the wax-sealed insignia of her family.

Oscar stared at the letter, then back at her, as the weight of her words fully sank in.

His mind reeled.

An arranged marriage…?

With one of his sons?

His grip on the desk subtly tightened as he struggled to suppress his inner turmoil.

What in the world is House Arden thinking…?