Previously
Sienna recalls how she was framed for Soliet's death due to her use of illegal medicinal seeds. On the day of her scheduled execution, the guards reveal that the Grand Duke has committed suicide and left a will taking full responsibility for the crime.
How to Part with You Completely — Episode 4
In that light, his motive for releasing the will to the public was plain. If it had fallen into the Emperor’s hands quietly, his gamble with his own life would have come to nothing.
Given my brother’s utterly despicable nature, he would have done precisely that.
Joseph wavered right until the brink of my husband’s funeral, releasing me only when the day arrived. It was hardly a full pardon, as it was granted on the condition that I be banished from the capital the moment the Grand Duke’s rites concluded.
Yet, having been unable to keep vigil over my daughter’s funeral, I had to be grateful even for that.
Once my release was ordered, soldiers escorted me to the grand ducal residence. Following the Emperor’s command to watch over me until the funeral was concluded in full, they shadowed me everywhere.
The sudden death of the Grand Duke had thrown the residence into disarray. Even amid the flurry of funeral preparations, a somber air hung heavy. Perhaps because of that, the servants’ glares were sharper than ever.
‘They must believe it’s because of me.’
Though my husband had taken his own life, I had driven him to that brink, and thus I could never be free from his death. Even more so when I considered that he had died in dishonor, having taken my guilt upon himself.
At the very least, there was no denying that I had thoroughly ruined his life.
I merely kept my head bowed and let the soldiers lead the way.
Little time had been given to me. The funeral would begin the moment dawn broke. While the Emperor had deliberated over my punishment, every preparation had already been finished, leaving only the family’s final inspection.
Since I was the deceased’s sole surviving kin, every detail of the rites had to pass my review. It was an unavoidable custom.
The physician had concluded his examination of the body, and the procedures for surrendering his minor possessions to the imperial family according to his will were already complete. The person entrusted with sorting through them was his most trusted retainer, Count Monches.
After the waiting physician explained the cause of death and took his leave, Count Monches stepped forward from the wall where he had been standing. He extended a white envelope toward me as I stood in a daze.
“His Grace left this behind.”
At those words, my gaze struck the envelope like a bolt of lightning. My heart began to pound violently. It was the hope that he might have left a letter for me. I hastily tore the envelope open.
Yet what lay inside was not a letter, but a single bank draft. A staggering sum was printed on the smooth slip of paper, but it was not what I had longed for.
Misinterpreting how utterly my expression had collapsed, the Count spoke stiffly.
“His final request to me was to sell his ring to a jeweler. Since all of the estate’s wealth was yielded to the imperial family, he must have sought to secure funds to set aside for Your Highness.”
As if the mere utterance of the words brought him sorrow and grief, a deep shadow crossed his face. Yet it lasted only a heartbeat. Soon, it vanished without a trace.
“It had to be disposed of so hastily that it didn't fetch its full worth, but you should still have little difficulty living on your own.”
He tacked on the remark in an unfeeling tone, then drew his hand back without lingering, as though his duty were done. Not a shred of sympathy lingered in him.
He had always resented me.
He was the man who had tried to persuade my husband to break off the engagement right up until the wedding. He had even told me to my face that getting entangled with a woman the Emperor regarded as a thorn in his side would lead to no good end.
I had never cared much for him either, yet I knew better than anyone how loyal a retainer he was to my husband.
As if all his strained composure had been for nothing, the Count quickly added in a desolate voice,
“Everyone anticipated it would come to this someday. Did we not all foresee that things would end badly between you two?”
“…”
“His Grace was far too good for you, Madam.”
With those parting words, the Count turned his back to me, but I remained rooted there for a long time, staring blankly down at the envelope.
I already knew he was a man too good for me.
Yet what meaning did that hold now?
* * *
The Grand Duke’s funeral was conducted with a solemnity rivaling that of a late emperor. People donned mourning clothes and flocked to the church to pay him honor. High nobility and commoners alike gathered before the church where the rites took place, mourning his loss.
The Holy City had specially dispatched the Archbishop to pray for his repose, while the Emperor commissioned the imperial orchestra to perform the funeral mass.
It was treatment fitting for a man who had brought unprecedented glory to the Empire. For though his end was devoid of honor, he was an undeniable hero all the same.
“…The Grand Duke delivered us victory across countless wars… and was a hero of the Empire, as well as an exceptional father…”
The church was vast, and the Archbishop’s grand speech echoed off its walls. Even though he was merely recounting his life, more than a few people wiped away tears. Without exception, every face was marked by sorrow.
Amidst it all, I felt like an intruder. Though I sat closest to the casket, I was utterly out of place.
My black hair was an untidy, tangled mess, and my face—unwashed for days on end—looked wretched beyond words.
Imperial etiquette dictated that a grieving widow wear a black veil draped over her head and dress in mourning garments, but before I was a widow, I was a prisoner barely out of her cell.
All those who respected and loved the Grand Duke wept as one, yet they showed no such mercy to the widow he had left behind. From time to time, they made their hatred and contempt blatantly clear.
‘If not for that woman, His Grace wouldn’t have died.’
‘Hush. She’ll hear you.’
‘What does it matter? Like mother, like daughter… Look at her, not shedding a single tear. It gives me chills.’
‘Still, the Empress didn't try to kill her own daughter.’
The whispers reached my ears unfiltered from no great distance. But I had no strength left in me to react. I merely let my vacant gaze trace the face of the man resting inside the casket.
For a gunshot suicide, the body was remarkably intact. Befitting a master marksman, they said the bullet had passed cleanly through his head.
A standard suicide by pistol usually blew the skull apart into a grotesque sight, so the physician had remarked that I was quite fortunate, leaving me unsure whether I ought to feel relieved or heartbroken.
Yet truly, the man inside the casket did not look dead.
It felt as if he might open his eyes the moment I spoke to him. With trembling hands, I traced the face of the man lying so peacefully within the casket.
The flesh beneath my fingertips was freezing cold. So cold that the warmth he had pressed to my skin just a few days ago felt like an illusion…
“Declan.”
I whispered his name, but no answer came. So I raised my voice a little higher and called him once more.
“Dear.”
“Silence yourself.”
Unable to listen any longer, the Archbishop merely threw a sharp rebuke my way.
The muscles in my face twisted as if I were about to burst into tears, but instead, laughter tore out of me. Weeping one moment, laughing like a madwoman the next. As my laughter grew louder and louder, the Archbishop’s speech cut off abruptly.
Marianne, seated not far from me as the Emperor’s proxy, glared at me with an expression of sheer disgust, then gestured toward the soldiers stationed throughout the church.
At once, guards in black uniforms seized me, hauling me to my feet and dragging me out of the hall.
Their harsh grip was no different from how they would treat a common criminal. Even so, no one pitied me. The gazes that fell upon me as I was hauled away by both arms were filled with nothing but disgust.
‘Did she drive the Grand Duke to his death only to casually lose her mind?’
Even without speaking the words aloud, the expressions on their faces said it all. I gritted my teeth as I was dragged out helplessly.
‘I didn’t kill Declan.’
No sooner had I tried to convince myself than the thought surged back from deep within my chest.
Was it truly not me who killed him?
‘If not for me, he never would have died. Count Monches wasn’t wrong.’
The guilt I had tried so hard to look away from consumed me once more. My rigid neck slumped limp.
Yes. In the end, it was all because of me.
A sound that was neither a weep nor a laugh spilled past my lips. At a sound more suited to a beast, people looked at me as though staring at a madwoman. Scorn and revulsion. They were the very stares I had faced my entire life.
The people gathered here had lost the same man and likely shared similar grief, yet my sorrow was mine alone to bear. No one mourned for me.
The soldiers hauled me out of the church and tossed me carelessly onto the road. I tumbled flat onto the hard stone floor. The pain shot through my wrist, having borne my weight awkwardly when I instinctively put out my hands to catch myself.
Before I could even cry out, a soldier’s harsh voice boomed from above.
“His Imperial Majesty has decreed that you are never to set foot in the capital again. He made it clear there will be no second act of mercy.”
“…”
“The guards stationed at every gate leading to the capital know your face, so if you defy His Imperial Majesty’s command, your neck will be severed on the spot. Do you understand?”
I did not answer.
The man seemed to expect no reply anyway, turning his back without another glance. As the soldiers reentered the church, the funeral resumed. Before long, the Archbishop’s voice echoed out once more.
I listened to it in a daze, then pulled myself up on unsteady legs. In any case, I had no reason left to linger in the capital.
Leaving the capital behind, I set off toward the south. It was there, in Monferrato, a land adjoining the southern border of the capital within the Grand Duchy, that the cemetery of the grand ducal house lay.