Kaella envied the unconscious Empress. She envied the dead mother of the gardener who worked at the Ostain townhouse. She envied those who had slipped peacefully into death, or into the silent, gray space bordering it. It was a death she had desperately craved when she lay in the north tower of Lyussenford; why, then, was it denied to her?
What was the point of existing? Everything was a nuisance now. At times, the father resting on her shoulders felt—in a way that bordered on unfilial—like an unbearable burden. The Emperor picked fights at every turn, and no matter how much wealth the House of Ostain held, it was helpless against imperial authority. If told to die, one must die. That was the Empire.
Continuing a suffocating life in Lyussenford, where she was treated as if she did not exist, only delayed the inevitable. Everything was tiresome, and nothing held meaning. She wished she had simply ceased to be. The more one desperately craves death, the faster one learns to distinguish whether the sight greeting them upon waking is reality or a cruel hallucination. Kaella knew, even now, that she had survived.
“Kaella.”
Peon, his eyes bloodshot, stood right beside her. By the shape of the wall behind him, she knew this was Lyussenford. The only thing slightly jarring was that this was not the Grand Duchess’s bedroom where she was accustomed to being sidelined.
“Can you hear my voice?”
She could. She had held him in her heart for so long that she could recognize his cadence even with her eyes closed.
“Do you recognize who I am?”
There was a desperate urgency in his tone. Kaella nodded vaguely and tried to push herself up.
“You mustn’t get up. Don’t move.”
Had she died here, it would have been the perfect exit for Kaella. But for Lyussenford, it would have been a catastrophe, which was surely why Peon had intervened so desperately. That was likely why he was by her side with such a rough, unshaven face. Even upon waking, her mind drifted toward cold calculations like these.
Was it because it felt so surreal to have the Grand Duke, who had never once stood by her side, lingering here now?
“Your Highness, I will check your fever.”
While Peon stepped back, the doctor approached.
*Back to square one.*
She was still the Grand Duchess of Lyussenford. What sort of insults would she endure this time? Would they call her vicious for collapsing on purpose just to show off after being told to eat?
“You have been asleep for three days. I am glad you have awakened.”
The doctor, who possessed a kind and gentle impression, was the first to answer the questions swirling in her mind.
“Your fever has subsided significantly. That is a good sign. Now, shall we try following my finger with your eyes?”
Asleep for three days? Yet, her body didn’t feel heavy or achy; rather, it felt as refreshed as if she had just woken from a long, deep slumber. She didn’t feel like someone who had consumed a plate of perenko pickled in tur berry. What kind of medicine had they used?
Kaella shivered, thinking of the tur berry, which made her entire body itch at the mere memory. She had always avoided it. It was an ingredient she rarely used, yet because of it, she had become a “spy for the Emperor who refuses to be a person of Lyussenford.”
“Your condition was very grave. I thought you might not overcome the crisis, so this is a relief.”
Indeed. Why hadn’t she died? Kaella lowered her gaze. She had intended to die the moment she arrived in Lyussenford; why had she failed? She was so foolish that she couldn’t even properly execute a single attempt at death.
“Milady, Milady. I’m so glad you’ve woken up. You have no idea how much I prayed.”
Seeing the maids from the House of Ostain—their faces swollen from crying—rejoicing, she felt a sharp pang of guilt. She didn’t care what happened to her, but the sense of responsibility to keep these three safe remained.
“You must be extremely careful with food; it is my fault for not stopping you. I am sorry, Milady.”
Cecil, the oldest of the maids, bowed her head. Kaella shook her head slowly, thinking that was absolute nonsense.
“No…”
The first voice she uttered was horribly raspy. The maids turned pale instantly.
“Milady, you mustn’t speak right now!”
“Water…”
She wanted to gulp down cool water, but after a flurry of fuss, they brought her a very small amount of lukewarm water. Kaella drank even that with gratitude.
“Are you not cold?”
The maids were always anxious whenever their frail mistress came to the freezing North. Cecil, the eldest, would eventually die from an illness caught while tending to Kaella here; Denise would marry here; and Marie, the youngest, would guard Kaella until the very end, though her fate after Kaella’s later confinement remained a mystery.
“I’m fine. It’s hot.”
So much firewood had been stuffed into the fireplace that flames were licking out from behind the iron grate. The doctor calmly reminded them to maintain proper humidity and ventilation.
This was not the Grand Duke’s personal physician, whom Kaella knew well, but a female doctor she had never seen before. She wondered how an outsider had entered Lyussenford Castle, where unauthorized entry was forbidden, but Kaella quickly lost interest.
It was none of her business. She didn’t want to scramble to play the role of a Grand Duchess when she no longer had any authority. Besides, this place was destined to be wiped out in a few years when the Emperor pinned a charge of treason on it. She didn’t know the exact circumstances, but since Peon was indifferent, she wouldn’t have known regardless.
“The speed of Her Highness’s recovery is astonishing.”
The doctor reported quietly to the Grand Duke, who had given his own bedroom to his newlywed wife and was sitting in the corner.
“There is almost no internal damage, and the swelling has already subsided. It is thanks to the retilin. If she is careful with her diet and rests sufficiently, she will recover soon.”
It was truly a miraculous medicine. Peon, who had procured it, stared at her curtained bed.
“The weather is still cold; will she be alright?”
“She must, of course, stay warm. This is sufficient. But you must not overdo it. This room is already too hot and dry. Moderation is important.”
This was directed at the Grand Duke, who had been mindlessly shoving more wood into the fireplace at every opportunity, driven by his mounting anxiety over the past three days. He nodded silently.
“It would be best for her to have light liquid meals. Once she has regained her strength, she should be able to walk around. But be very careful with her food.”
“Naturally, I shall be careful.”
For the first time in the history of Lyussenford, the Lord of the Castle began to directly interfere with the kitchen hierarchy, the employees, and even the facilities.
He stood up. He had seen that Kaella was awake, and that was enough. The maids, who had been clinging to her side without sleep, would care for her better than he could. He forced himself to look away from the bed and prepared to leave.
“Cough…”
But his gaze betrayed him, drawn to Kaella, who was coughing weakly. Was she in pain? His heart, which had been shriveled with anxiety for three days, sank heavily.
“I’m fine…”
Kaella waved her hand weakly, whispering to the eyes fixed upon her.
“Drink more water.”
Peon strode over, poured more water, and fed it to her. He was surprisingly skillful. Kaella, who hadn’t been satisfied with the previous amount, didn’t refuse and drank it diligently. Since the doctor had cleared it, she finished the entire cup. After he wiped the corners of her mouth with a towel, Peon watched her silently for a moment.
“I have heard everything that happened.”
The maids, who hadn’t eaten and had cried incessantly, had testified in unison: *“Milady—no, Her Highness the Grand Duchess—clearly told the head maid that she would get sick if she ate tur berry, but the head maid acted with extreme insolence.”* To dismiss their testimony as unreliable because they were outsiders would be difficult, as others had seen the exact same scene at the banquet.
“An investigation is currently underway. I will ensure this never happens again.”
Kaella watched him, nodded once after a slight delay, said a small “Yes,” and shut her mouth.
“It was an unacceptable thing. I am truly sorry, Kaella.”
“It’s alright.”
There was no emotion in the reply. It would have been better if she were angry or crying. Kaella didn’t seem to resent him; she simply looked as if she had no expectations left at all.
Was this the reaction of a newlywed noblewoman, a young lady raised with the pride of the Imperial family?
As Peon watched her with a troubled expression, she added one more word.
“I am fine.”
Hearing “I am fine” once again, Peon felt his blood turn cold. He had a chilling conviction that she would never use her old, familiar tone with him ever again.
“…Is that so.”
He squeezed the words out with forced composure.
“That is a relief.”
Unable to meet her eyes, he nodded.
“Then get some rest. Do not worry about anything else and focus only on recovering. If you need anything, call me at any time.”
Kaella, who had nothing to want, looked at Peon as he stood up, feeling puzzled. *Call me at any time?* That man had never said such a thing. Why was he acting like this?
“You have no idea how worried His Highness was. For three whole days, no matter how much we told him to sleep, he didn’t rest for even a moment and stayed right by your side to nurse you himself.”
As soon as the Grand Duke left, Marie chattered on.
“It’s not ‘Milady’ anymore, it’s ‘Your Highness,’ Marie.”
“Oh, right. Sigh. I still haven’t gotten used to it; ‘Milady’ just sticks to my tongue. I’m sorry. I’ll fix it.”
Marie slapped her own mouth. Watching this, Kaella smiled weakly. Cecil, who had stepped forward after lightly scolding Marie, tidied the table and said in a low voice.
“But what Marie said is true, Your Highness. His Highness the Grand Duke was always here. Except for the times he had to leave for the investigation, he was always sitting in this spot. He even wiped your face himself.”
Cecil, who had served the young lady while traveling between Ostain and Krain, thought she had finally met a kind husband.
“He ordered that tur berry must never be brought into the castle. He even ordered all the tur berry trees growing nearby to be uprooted.”
*Oh dear.* Kaella reflexively began to think about how much criticism she would face because of that order. How many glares would she receive? How much would they hate her?
It was a terribly harmful habit she had acquired in Lyussenford. She had become infinitely small here, until she felt no more significant than the air. A vase placed quietly in the room was treated better than she was. The methods of the people here grew increasingly subtle; sometimes it was the kind of mockery she would only realize after long reflection, and sometimes it was the kind of blatant bullying they had performed at the banquet.
She would have to listen to those malicious taunts again. Then again, there was nothing new about that.
“The insolent head maid has been locked in prison. Please, do not worry about it, Your Highness.”
Kaella’s eyes widened.
“Is that true?”
“Yes. Of course. It is only fitting. The head chef has also been arrested. Everyone who spoke rudely to Your Highness at the banquet has been arrested, too.”
*That shouldn’t be possible.* Kaella thought of the formidable head maid who ruled Lyussenford Castle and refused to hand over the keys to the storerooms to the young Grand Duchess until the end. She was a woman who took pride in having raised Peon herself after he was thrown here at only twelve years old. She was practically his nanny. Yet, he had locked her up?
“Why?”
“Goodness, why do you ask, Milady… no, Your Highness! To dare to commit such rudeness and force that upon the heir to the Duke of Ostain and the Emperor’s one and only niece! She should have her head cut off immediately.”
“But… I’m the one who ate it.”
Cecil looked at Kaella with an expression that asked what on earth had happened to her.
“What do you mean? You didn’t eat it because you wanted to.”
Kaella averted her eyes. That was true. But why did she feel the need to defend that wicked head maid or the rude Northern nobles?
*Ah.* She had so many harmful habits.
･ ｡ﾟ✧: *. ꕥ .* :✧ﾟ. ･
Lyussenford was a poison to Kaella. The Grand Duke, who was responsible for Lyussenford, knew that fact very well.
He had finally washed himself and shaved. Since Kaella had awakened, he didn’t want to show her his disheveled appearance. It felt as if those eyes, which held the untainted, clear sky, were following him wherever he went. It must be because his conscience as a sinner made him prickle.
“Lezen.”
“Yes, Your Highness. The prisoners locked up today are still saying the same things. If I may suggest, wouldn’t it be better if you took a rest? You haven’t slept properly for days.”
“I am acting within limits that don’t overtax me, so it is fine. They are still saying the same things?”
The secretary was full of concern, but Peon cut him off.
“Yes, well… they are speaking very vaguely, but they say things like, ‘I didn’t know it would go that far,’ or, ‘If it were that severe, shouldn’t Her Highness have simply not eaten it?’ It always ends with ‘I will never do it again,’ though.”
Closed-off Lyussenford had a strong perception that being weak was bad and being strong was good. Furthermore, the knowledge that universal food could be poison to someone else was not well known.
Peon understood that those who were driven to fight evil dragons and withstand the harsh nature of the land would naturally be closed off. But some things, nonetheless, should not be overlooked.
*I am fine.*
He had heard that phrase, muttered while staring blankly into space, so many times. Before the regression, and even after, she said the same thing. Because she was fine, they let it pass as if nothing had happened.
*Is she really fine?*
“…I kept them alive for too long.”
Peon stopped walking. He felt like he should go and hear their final testimony, to see what they were babbling about. No, that would be a waste of time.
“As soon as the sun rises tomorrow, execute the head maid first.”