1.
From last night through this morning—and even now—Kaella had not felt the cold once. It was partly because the weather had begun to thaw, but mostly because nothing filled an empty heart quite like the warmth of the person she had pressed against all night.
As soon as Kaella realized this, her mind became even more tangled.
She stared at the diamond ring resting heavily on her finger. Because Peon had been so insistent, she had worn it alongside the Empress’s ring—which she had received as an engagement token out of necessity—but honestly, she wanted to take them both off now.
‘Whether war breaks out in Lyussenford or not, what does it have to do with me? If I die before that happens, that’s that!’
Though she snapped at herself, her brain, which was only sharp at times like this, immediately offered a convenient excuse.
‘As the Grand Duchess, I have no choice. If the Emperor brands the Grand Duke of Lyussenford a traitor, then my father’s house, Ostain, will be labeled traitors right along with him.’
A convenient thought. A ridiculous one. As if she hadn’t intended to abandon her father and die anyway. If she did that, how would she be any different from Peon, who had helped kill her father? At least Peon was a stranger without a drop of her blood, but she was his very own daughter. So why, then, did she want a man like that not to die?
‘He’s not the same man he was before I died. This time, he saved my father! And he did it at the cost of a significant sacrifice. Am I going to blame my husband for a crime he didn’t even commit?’
It was confusing. Having died once, she was terrified of an uncertain future, yet she was embarrassed to find that desires she hadn’t even known she possessed still remained.
‘Above all, am I supposed to believe the things Beatrice spouted off before she died?’
Her rational judgment, which told her she shouldn’t trust a word Beatrice said, sparked a whirlwind of thoughts.
Is it okay to do what I want? Would it really be alright?
Can someone like Kaella De Chasseur do what they want?
“Your Highness, Lady Lavalle has arrived. Shall I show her in?”
Kaella, who had been fidgeting with the collar of her dress that rose all the way to her chin, nodded. She would have preferred to wear a scarf around her neck; she didn’t care for clothes that climbed up her throat. Since Lyussenford was so cold, she had no choice but to wear them, yet she still found them stifling and unfamiliar.
At that moment, she met eyes with Beatrice, who had stepped into the office.
‘She’s annoyed again.’
No, she also looked unwell. Having spent a night in the Grand Duchess’s bedroom, which didn’t have a single curtain, must have been miserable. With the draft whistling through the stone walls, she would surely have fallen ill, no matter how many blankets she piled on or how much she stoked the fireplace.
“Welcome.”
By etiquette, Beatrice should have been the first to offer a greeting, but Kaella kindly took the lead. Having never harmed a soul in her previous life, she had let Beatrice stay in a room that felt like an icebox, so the least she could do was offer a greeting.
When one experiences brutal things, their moral compass tends to dull. Kaella, who once couldn’t even imagine causing harm to a person, was now able to make Beatrice sleep in a cold room for a night without a second thought after having suffered such a wretched death. Since Beatrice had committed many malicious acts against her even in this new life, Kaella felt no hesitation at all.
She, too, had learned by watching, and had reached that level.
“I should… see a doctor.”
Kaella, who had been looking over documents, lifted her head. Beatrice’s voice, once described as being like a warbler’s, was now rasping so badly it sounded like scraping metal. It seemed she had caught a severe cold.
“I should see a doctor…”
“Yes. I heard a new room has been prepared.”
Kaella nodded and finally undid the collar pin that was securing her dress. She couldn’t stand the stuffiness, and the office was warm enough that she didn’t need to keep her collar tightly fastened. Her extremities were always bitterly cold, but perhaps because Peon had firmly wrapped her feet in his large hands and warmed them last night, they felt fine.
“I will have a doctor sent to that room.”
Would Darinka have the time? She had heard that most of the urgent cases among the children in the castle had been treated. As she was already settled as the Grand Duchess’s personal physician, she would have enough time to prescribe Beatrice some cold medicine. Honestly, the children of the castle were more precious to Kaella than Beatrice. Such bonds existed, even if they were small.
When no answer came, Kaella looked up. Unexpectedly, Beatrice was staring at her with intense scrutiny.
“Is there another problem?”
A problem? There were many. Very many. Beatrice had stayed up all night shivering, realizing perfectly well why Kaella had handed over the guest room without a word. It was intentional. It was deliberate. If she was going to give her such a hideous place, she shouldn’t have offered it at all! And yet, Kaella, who sat comfortably occupying Peon’s bedroom, was showing nothing but shocking defiance.
Beatrice, who ruled the social circles of the Krania Empire—the most sophisticated in the world—knew full well that the games played by the nobility were the same everywhere. Ultimately, it was money. Money was the most important thing, and if one had status and fame to back it up, one could buy young lovers to their heart’s content. Yes. People and love were things one bought with money.
In that sense, Kaella, the daughter of Duke Ostain, had shown everything she possessed with a single gesture.
“…Thank… you.”
Her head felt heavy and her throat was sore. She was already exhausted, but she had to swallow her pride to show courtesy and address Kaella—that foolish girl who had everything—with honorifics, and it was driving Beatrice mad.
Meanwhile, Kaella’s hand, currently removing the collar pin, bore two rings. One was the Empress’s ring, representing authority; the other was a diamond such as Beatrice had never seen before. It was so large that it turned halfway around her finger, covering the entire knuckle of Kaella’s small hand. It was a symbol of immense wealth.
High-ranking noblewomen would often remove their gloves or wave their fans, subtly flaunting their heavy rings. It was a way to boast—about which long-standing house they belonged to, how much their husbands loved them, or how wealthy they were.
Beatrice, too, was currently wearing a large ruby ring. But even if she brought every ring she had ever seen—no, every jewel she had ever owned—none were as beautiful as the one Kaella wore.
‘Is it an heirloom of the Duchess Monde?’
That couldn’t be. If it were, Beatrice would have known immediately.
She reached the final conclusion she had been trying to deny. If Kaella hadn’t removed the collar pin, Beatrice might have continued to ignore it. But the moment the pin was removed, the vivid red marks visible between her collarbones forced her to face reality.
Kaella De Chasseur had added the love of her husband—that difficult thing to obtain—to the status and wealth she already possessed. Despite being from the south, her neck was pale from lack of sunlight, and the red marks left blatantly upon it were, at a glance, more than just one or two. Only a very persistent, vigorous lover would leave such marks.
‘How?’
Even though her throat was severely swollen, Beatrice couldn’t fathom it. She couldn’t understand how Peon, who had once awkwardly received even the lip-service kisses she offered as if out of charity, had become such a mature, skilled man. The way Peon had entered the bedroom last night had shocked even her.
…He was a man who stood at the pinnacle of masculinity. The most regrettable thing was that this man, who even caught Beatrice’s eye, was sharing a bedroom with Kaella, who was far beneath her in status. To share the same bedroom in a marriage of convenience.
Beatrice just kept staring at Kaella. The gaze was so blatant that Kaella couldn’t help but look up. Beatrice’s eyes weren’t on her, but on the diamond Peon had gifted her.
‘So this is why he told her to wear the rings.’
To see. To be shown directly to Beatrice. Was it to provoke one another? Having lived so long in the shadows of the two of them, she was now thinking all sorts of things. Yes. She was being foolish.
“The rings are truly beautiful.”
Beatrice’s pink eyes flashed with a feverish light.
“Yes, thank you.”
Having no intention of continuing the conversation, Kaella replied indifferently and turned her head back to the documents. With her neck no longer stifled, she felt much more comfortable.
･ ｡ﾟ✧: *. ꕥ .* :✧ﾟ. ･
His body was moving mechanically, without thought. His hands held and wielded pens and swords, his mouth issued orders, and his ears listened, but his brain was grinding gears. Was it because he hadn’t slept a wink, or because he had held Kaella in his arms for the first time? While he should have been pouring his entire mind into his work and resisting the Emperor, his brain was conveniently occupied with other thoughts.
For example, thoughts like ‘Can we sleep together again tonight?’—which purely referred to sleeping, but were nonetheless base thoughts—or trivial musings like the final hope: ‘We decided to finish counting the silverware together; will she remember?’
To find one person precious was just like this. His attention was drawn to the room at the far end of the hallway, and the goals he had long pursued no longer mattered. It was absurdly useless, yet at the same time, it was a cycle of being anxious and then being made complete once again by that existence. It was a truly unnecessary emotion for the Grand Duke of Lyussenford, who was responsible for border security.
And for Peon as an individual, it was an emotion he was only now truly feeling, and feeling ashamed of.
“Your Highness. A message from the gatekeeper of the ‘Field of Giants.’ They say the Emperor’s investigator passed through there three days ago.”
“Fast.”
“Yes. It seems their goal is to cover the distance in a short time, as they are reportedly riding hard, changing horses without stopping.”
It meant the Emperor was taking the news of the Grand Duchess’s collapse very seriously. Or, perhaps, now that Peon was complying with the marriage and the hostage effect of Beatrice Lavalle had diminished, the Emperor might be trying to seize upon this incident as a weakness. In any case, the Emperor’s intentions would never be to Peon’s benefit.
“Send word to the gatekeepers. Whatever they ask, whatever they say, let them pass.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
Let them come and scour Lyussenford from the muddy ground to the top of the highest spire. Since Beatrice was here too, it would be quite a spectacle to watch the outsiders turn everything upside down.
“Um, Your Highness. Then what shall we do about the mines and other businesses?”
As a loyal secretary, Lezen had hidden them well enough so that the investigators wouldn’t easily spot them, but he couldn’t keep things like the massive mines or gold transactions hidden forever. Peon hadn’t given any instructions regarding that yet. It was unlike the Grand Duke, who was usually thorough to the point of obsession.
“Have the largest gold nuggets been prepared?”
“I have prepared about three for now. But the gold is simply pouring out of the mines.”
At that rate, Lyussenford could survive on its own without relying on support from Krain. Literally, the number of people starving to death might decrease. With the fruits of their labor, they might be able to afford weapons and seeds.
Lezen held onto hope, but he was also anxious, knowing how powerless that hope would be in front of the Emperor. Could they protect this hope?
“Is that something that can be hidden just by covering it up? Just leave it as it is.”
“Would that be alright?”
“It will be fine.”
Peon turned his head to look out the window, toward the border in the distance. He could hear it. He could hear the sound of approaching hoofbeats. Was it his sharpened hearing that picked it up, or the power flowing in his blood? His senses were going wild to a degree incomparable to before his regression.
“Let them be.”
He would just have to let the hooves trample this land.
“Yes, Your Highness. I shall do as you say.”
The castle was bustling. Kaella was also busy. The head maid was constantly coming in and out of the office, rooms were being cleaned for guests, and new furniture had arrived. As for Beatrice, she had visited Kaella’s office just once and then remained holed up in her new room, not budging.
After a moment of hesitation, Peon rose from his seat and walked toward the room at the far end of the hall—the one he was most concerned about—and asked the maid guarding the door.
“Ask Her Highness if she has a moment.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
The maid opened the door wide a few seconds later. Kaella, who had risen from her seat, looked at him with wide eyes.
“Are you busy?”
“No. Please, come in.”
After he closed the door, he checked to see if the temperature in the office was adequate. It seemed there was enough firewood in the fireplace. Meanwhile, Kaella pulled out the ledger she had hidden in the drawer. Her eyes held wariness as she slid it out while looking straight at him, yet the act of taking it out was bold, and Peon suppressed a smile.
“The numbers don’t add up, do they?”
Let’s see. That look in her eyes meant, ‘I’m so surprised you’d say such a thing!’
“The ledgers brought by the butler have increased a bit.”
Kaella started to speak but stopped. It was better to avoid giving any answers that might cause trouble and just listen to what Peon had to say.
“He is not a very meticulous person.”
The Grand Duke didn’t seem to care at all that the Grand Duchess hadn’t dared to answer. He muttered bitterly.
“I am ashamed to say it is because I neglected my oversight and supervision.”
The laziness and corruption of one’s subordinates was, in the end, the incompetence of the superior. The butler still saw Peon as a manageable child, or merely a warrior who didn’t pay attention to internal affairs. Peon had to prove himself even to his subordinates.
“I have even allowed such slipshod work to continue, so I have no face before you, Your Highness.”
He had thought the butler’s attitude was poor. However, he had left it as it was to ensure that the authority to dismiss the butler would be held in Kaella’s hands. But when he saw Kaella checking the inventory, he felt a jolt of surprise. The traitors were rampant in Lyussenford. Could such a foolish and pathetic man dare to be Kaella’s husband?
“Your Highness.”
Peon lifted his head.
“Let us finish counting the silverware today.”
The young Grand Duchess looked very firm and stern for her age.