1.
Kaella was what they called an easy woman. To Peon, she was easier than anyone else, making it all the easier to look away.
She never hid her thoughts from him; in fact, she was incapable of doing so. Sometimes, she was alarmingly honest. How ridiculous it was that one had to worry about honesty. In the lands governed by Peon, the honest should have been the most free, but because he was a cowardly, stupid, and incompetent ruler, that could not be. And so, the honest Kaella was the first to suffocate and die.
“Please.”
Kaella, unable to hide her emotions, would take his hand with such joy whenever he reached out. To Peon, this was only natural. If he offered his hand, she would take it. It was as inevitable as the fact that the Emperor was a psychopath, that Peon was a filthy mongrel, that the sun set in the west, and that the winters in Lyussenford were exceedingly long.
However, Kaella—who was currently walking toward the Grand Duchess’s bedroom where she had never once slept before, still the Lady Ostain whose father had not yet been murdered—did not take his hand immediately. She clearly hesitated. Kaella De Chasseur was a woman who should have felt no hesitation in taking his hand, a woman who should have reached out at once; yet, she hesitated.
“Bee?”
Fear was baring its teeth and grinning at him from the shadows. Though he spoke of her as the noble Lady Ostain, he knew well that he had maintained the emotional upper hand until now, and his arrogance had been built upon that foundation. The guarantee that she would always grasp his hand the moment he offered it and listen to him unconditionally was nowhere to be found, no matter how hard he searched.
Then what was he to do?
Instead of an answer, he was gripped by an endless, vague anxiety, accompanied by the irrational yet certain thought that he might lose his sanity right then and there.
“Ah, I was mistaken.”
It was Kaella’s voice that extinguished the tremors. She muttered softly and placed her hand upon his. Peon hastily clasped it, forcing himself to suppress the trembling in his own fingers. She had definitely hesitated.
There was no reason for that to be the case, but she had.
“Now that I have recovered this much, you should go to your own bedroom, Your Highness.”
Kaella, having unconsciously shown her familiarity with the geography of the Lyussenford castle, changed the subject. It was a detail he had forgotten: the place where Kaella stayed was Peon’s bedroom. He didn’t know why he had placed her there in the first place, but it was high time she returned to her proper quarters according to the law.
Only by appearing to fulfill the role of the Grand Duchess flawlessly could she ensure that all blame would fall on Lyussenford and not Ostain when she eventually died. Kaella was laying the groundwork step by step. It was nice not to die—who would want to? But as someone who had already experienced the end, she chose to increase the certainty of her death rather than seek a way to quietly escape Lyussenford.
“I will return within the day.”
“No.”
Peon, who had been walking toward his bedroom while holding her hand tightly, stopped her firmly.
“Do not do that. You have not fully recovered.”
“But…”
“A patient must not change their quarters hastily. What if you catch a new illness because of it?”
“I only need to be careful with my food.”
“You must be careful not only with food, but with the cold and the change in climate. You must eat better.”
Even now, if he closed his eyes, he could still see the corpse of Kaella, eyes wide open, skin and bone, as she died. Even if every truth he believed were overturned and Peon’s world were to collapse, Kaella had to eat well and remain healthy for the rest of her life.
“Besides, as I said before, it is absolutely unacceptable for the Duchess to stay in a room decorated at the whim of a criminal.”
Was that against the law? Kaella, thinking in the ever-practical Lyussenford style, gave the correct answer.
“It doesn’t matter. I am fine. It would be a waste to use the castle’s finances to change it again.”
If there was money for that, it should be invested in the military. The Grand Duchess could not waste a single penny. Although, there was no money to spend anyway, as the head maid and the butler had a tight grip on the finances. They begrudged every cent spent on the Grand Duchess, who hadn’t even brought a dowry. Since that time, Lyussenford had lacked proper order.
“Bee.”
Peon turned to her after entering the bedroom, his expression grave.
“That is not a waste.”
Ah, is that so? So erasing the traces of a criminal was not a waste? That was how much justification one needed to spend money for the Grand Duchess in Lyussenford. Kaella realized this anew, feeling a familiar exhaustion. To think that even as the Grand Duchess, one had to risk one’s life just to redo the dowdy castle interior—Lyussenford was truly an incredible place.
At the same time, how stupid she had been to dare suggest expanding the castle.
“Even if you wished to apply gold to the walls, Bee, it would not be a waste.”
Peon sat her in a comfortable chair before the fireplace. He did not sit beside her; instead, he knelt before her. Suddenly, Kaella found herself looking down at his massive frame.
Peon, who had weighed his sins and the tasks ahead against the hem of Kaella’s velvet dress, the carpet, or perhaps the abyss of hell down below, finally lifted his head.
“Even to my untrained eye, the Grand Duchess’s bedroom was embarrassing for you to use.”
Right. That was where it started. The Grand Duchess’s authority, absent until now, had been diminished from the moment she entered a bedroom decorated at the whim of the head maid. It was right to tear everything down just as Kaella wanted.
“My eye for such things is even worse than Your Highness’s.”
There was no confidence in her small voice or her hunched shoulders. She looked like someone who had resolved to do nothing. To say the Lady of Ostain, who was accustomed to a flood of rare and expensive items, had no eye for things was absurd. Was it because she had been so shocked at the first banquet, or had she been like that before? Either way, it was Peon’s sin.
“Then let us two with no eye for things start by picking curtains. Not just your room, but this room must be changed entirely as well.”
He tapped the back of Kaella’s hand, which rested neatly on her lap. Her overlapped fingers slowly curled inward.
･ ｡ﾟ✧: *. ꕥ .* :✧ﾟ. ･
Because of the Grand Duke’s appropriate indifference, and the cold glares from the butler, the head maid, and the nobles, the Grand Duchess could not properly lay a hand on the Lyussenford castle’s finances. Despite that, the foolish Grand Duchess had dared to suggest improving the poor facilities and expanding them.
If one lacks the ability, one should not speak. To have the audacity to belittle the great Lyussenford as “poor”—and to interfere with the castle’s design, where secrecy was paramount—was enough for the proud Lyussenford nobles to rise in protest.
Right. Kaella dropped her head as she recalled the events that had rapidly hastened her death. Yet, even as she looked down, there were piles of fabric samples she had trimmed and collected, and catalogs for curtains that were touted as “the latest.”
*How did it come to this?*
Kaella had clearly said she had no eye for such things, but she didn’t know what order the Grand Duke had given; even the butler knew they were changing the curtains in the Grand Duchess’s bedroom and the Grand Duke’s bedroom.
“Honestly, that hideous, dizzying pink velvet curtain is just too much. Pink! A deep, hot pink at that!”
Denise shook her head. To Kaella, pink was a color that automatically reminded her of Beatrice’s eyes. Peon, too, had rare violet eyes, so the two matched very well, but she alone was a plain blue. Did the head maid hang the hot pink velvet curtains on purpose to show her her place?
The curtains were needlessly heavy and had too many tassels; above all, they created a bizarre atmosphere alongside the dark green and sallow, yellowish walls. In short, they were perfect for a tacky, horrific room. Kaella had never once loved that space.
“We should just tear them all down and throw them away. Such terrible curtains are items that should never have been brought into this world.”
Denise shivered, saying that it was intolerable for such a color to be in that room.
“It would be fine if the walls were jet black or stark white.”
To Cecil’s words, Denise replied in a dissatisfied voice.
“Only ‘if’ we took off all the tassels and decorations. Still, it’s such a tacky color. Honestly… since it’s just the Grand Duchess and us here, I’ll say it: the curtains here aren’t much better. They’re a drab brown.”
“That’s true, Your Highness. Besides, they are too old and worn. Is Lyussenford’s treasury really that bad?”
It made no sense that their precious, noble young lady was marrying into such a poor place. Cecil’s eyes were full of concern.
“It’s not so much that; it’s just that the Grand Duke has never had any interest in such things.”
Still, he seemed to dress well enough, but he was the type to think that the function of a place where one stayed only needed to be minimal.
“Still, this is too… too…”
Kaella finished the sentence for Denise, who couldn’t bring herself to continue.
“Low-brow.”
“Yes!”
Kaella knew the maids were very worried, but she didn’t say anything more. Explaining that it was because minor local nobles had decided the standing of the Grand Duchy as they pleased would only be a lament. Lacking an eye for things, and having secretly thought of Peon as their own son, they treated the authority of the Grand Duke’s residence just like their own homes.
*If only the Empress had visited even once, this wouldn’t have happened.*
But the Emperor had kept the Empress confined to the Imperial Palace, making that impossible. Because the people of Lyussenford didn’t know the reality of Krain, they admired it all the more, and because they didn’t know, they treated the Grand Duke according to their own level. Their loyalty, which should have been more precious, had turned into a “this is good enough.”
Thus, Kaella, who had experienced the glory of the Emperor and the prosperity of the Empire in Ostain and Krain, felt something beyond absurdity—she felt humiliated. But what could she do? The Grand Duke’s authority had sunk to that level, and the Grand Duchess’s authority had been buried without ever even existing.
*…Let’s stop thinking.*
Kaella quickly flipped through the fabric samples. Whether she was mad, whether she was dead and dreaming, or whether this was reality, the sins committed by the people of Lyussenford were not hers. Or rather, they had not committed such sins *yet*. One must not blame them for sins they had not yet committed.
But the head maid and the other nobles had already committed sins the very first day she arrived.
*Thinking…*
It wouldn’t stop.
“This will do.”
Then she would just do the work. The results might not be great, but Kaella threw herself into the task anyway.
“Let’s use this deep blue velvet. The old curtains can be torn down and used as thermal covers in the stables, or as blankets for the children in the castle.”
It was common sense to change the castle curtains with every change of season, but since the winter was endless in Lyussenford, she had to prepare the winter curtains first. Blue for winter, but what would be good for spring? Kaella’s gaze landed on a violet fabric that resembled the color of Peon’s eyes. Would it be too heavy? She didn’t know.
“Your Highness, what about your bedroom then?”
Denise, who had sworn to tear down those gaudy hot pink velvets and tassels, had a look of madness in her eyes.
“……Well? Wouldn’t this deep green be good?”
“That’s too plain! It’s a new bride’s room!”
“Winter is unavoidable.”
“Then please, at least for spring, make it lime green. Please, Your Highness.”
Kaella only smiled and couldn’t answer easily. The bright lime green, the refined olive, and the deep green mixed with dignified emerald were all beautiful. Even if she just tied them with gold curtain cords or let them hang, it would completely transform that drab bedroom atmosphere.
But was it okay to do so? How could she change the curtains so many times? Couldn’t she just change the Grand Duke’s bedroom curtains? The Grand Duchess’s bedroom curtains were new, and she would be criticized for being wasteful. In any case, her bedroom was not a place where she would stay for long before leaving. She had already gotten used to the hideous interior. No, she was just used to a hideous and painful life. So, couldn’t she just avoid doing anything that would invite criticism? What on earth was she capable of doing properly?
And so, Kaella only changed the curtains in the Grand Duke’s bedroom. Replacing the drab, faded brown with dignified, deep blue made the room’s atmosphere come alive. Kaella intended to step back from the Grand Duke’s bedroom now. Staying longer was discourteous, but she was afraid of being pointed at for changing the curtains of the room where the Grand Duchess stayed. That was the kind of Lyussenford Kaella had experienced—a place where one had to fear even such things.
“It looks much better. As expected, your eye for things is exceptional, Bee. But what about your bedroom?”
Peon, who had looked around his room, turned to Kaella. Kaella could not help but be conscious of the butler behind her.
“I thought it would be the proper order to change your bedroom first, rather than mine.”
In Lyussenford, the existence of a Grand Duchess did not exist. Kaella always had to put others before herself. She had been framed as a spy for the Emperor, after all. Habit was perhaps more frightening than death. Peon, who glanced once at the skillfully answering Kaella and the butler behind her, turned immediately and walked out of his bedroom.
*Huh?*
Peon’s expression seemed to have hardened. Kaella, who had scrutinized even his expression in that brief moment, hurriedly grabbed her dress hem and followed him. Peon walked to the Grand Duchess’s bedroom with a stride that was neither slow nor fast; the moment he saw the still-present hot pink velvet curtains, he yanked them.
“Your Highness?”
Unable to withstand the strength of a man, the heavy curtains fell right down. *Rrrrip*, the sound of them being torn away was distinct. The next curtain was also mercilessly torn down.
“Your Highness!”
The butler’s horrified voice was buried as the curtains crashed to the floor. It was impossible for anyone, no matter how strong, to tear down heavy, thick velvet with one hand, but the Grand Duke, having done it, turned to Kaella nonchalantly.
“I thought it would be difficult for you to take them down, so I did it myself. Now that they are gone, it is cold.”
Curtains that blocked the cold air were essential in Lyussenford. The chilly air immediately seeped into the room through the windows, which were now devoid of curtains.
“Stay in my bedroom until new curtains are hung.”
Peon said, looking at Kaella and the butler with an expression of great relief.