Previously
In a flashback to the war's end, Rio Monches finds Declan in a drug-addled state in his tent, though the Grand Duke appears outwardly composed. Declan, having regressed to the past after his suicide, realizes he is back at the start of his ill-fated marriage and decides to avoid Sienna to spare her further suffering.
How to Break Up with You Perfectly — Episode 9
“Your Highness. Are you feeling very unwell?”
Instead of an answer, a dry cough drifted out from the room.
“I think I’ll be fine after a few days’ rest.”
“Then perhaps it would be best if I stayed behind as well…”
“No. There is no need for that.”
This time, the response came in a rush.
“You might catch it for no reason. I’m fine, so don’t worry about me and go.”
“Still…”
“I said don’t worry about me.”
Seeing him torn between leaving and staying, the priest standing beside him spoke calmly.
“I’ll remain here, so please go ahead.”
“I couldn’t impose on you like that. Surely you have other duties to attend to…”
As Theo hesitated, she offered a nonchalant shrug.
“Normally, this would be a busy time preparing for afternoon Mass, but well. As you know, the Abbot has no interest in something like Mass right now, does he?”
There was no disputing that. Ever since the army had arrived in Lopawell, it was plain fact that the Abbot had poured all his devotion not into Mass, but solely into fawning over the troops.
Standing there with an awkward expression, Theo let out a heavy sigh.
“Then I hate to be a burden, but I’ll leave her in your care.”
“Don’t worry.”
The priest curled the corners of her mouth as if to soothe Theo’s persistent anxiety. Her eyes, however, remained impassive, offering little real comfort.
Having no other choice, Theo moved away with heavy steps.
* * *
A sumptuous meal was laid out in the monastery’s underground dining hall, a place usually coated in bleak dust.
If nothing else, it was undeniably the grandest, most lavish spread Theo had seen since arriving here. Plump roasted turkey and fresh fruits from who-knew-where were served to the table in an endless stream.
While Theo stared at the dishes, unable to mask his disbelief, the Count seated beside him spoke with genuine admiration.
“It seems things aren’t as bad as I’d heard. I was worried you might be skipping meals here, but now I see that was utterly baseless.”
At his visibly relieved remark, Theo forced a dry smile. His gaze toward the Abbot, however, was razor-sharp.
‘And he claimed there was hardly enough to eat.’
Was that all? Watching the man chatter merrily beside the Grand Duke made Theo’s blood boil.
The Abbot was a bishop banished to Lopawell as a criminal, no different from the Princess. Constantly seeking an opening to return to the capital, he had repeatedly tested the waters with the Princess and Theo, only for his demeanor to flip abruptly at some point.
Theo hadn’t thought much of it back then, but now he seemed to understand why. Realizing the Princess had been utterly forsaken by the capital, the man had simply lost interest.
Come to think of it, it was around that time that their barely passable meals had devolved into complete slop.
Theo had never attached much meaning to the change before. Starvation was a common sight in Lopawell, and having come here, he had assumed neither he nor the Princess could be exempt from such hunger.
Even so, the blatant disparity in treatment for those in power was nothing short of absurd.
Most in the village below the monastery eked out an existence eating grass, and even the Princess was unable to have a proper meal.
The Abbot’s motives were clear as day. He wished to catch the Grand Duke’s eye in any way possible and secure a path back to the capital.
Yet despite the Abbot’s overt flattery, the Grand Duke had not touched a single bite of food.
“I understand circumstances are difficult here. Are you not overextending yourself?”
“Goodness, not at all. While it is true our means are modest, His Imperial Majesty sends provisions with great generosity so that the people here do not go hungry.”
Even if the capital sent adequate provisions, recalling the state of the village before ascending the monastery’s cliff made it self-evident that rations were not being distributed properly.
There was an obvious contradiction in the Abbot’s words, yet Declan raised the corners of his mouth in a smooth curve instead of questioning it.
“Then that is a relief.”
Emboldened by those words, the Bishop worked his mouth even more diligently.
“What is more, with the hero of the nation gracing us, we can only feel ashamed to offer nothing grander than this modest spread.”
At the thoroughly detestable voice, Theodore, sitting not far away, snorted while chewing on a turkey leg.
“The Bishop is far too modest. Today’s banquet is truly the finest meal I have seen since coming here.”
The Bishop’s sharp gaze snapped toward him at once. Completely unbothered, Theo added with sly nonchalance,
“Since you possessed such wonderful ingredients all along, I wonder why you never showed us such benevolence until now.”
His handsome eyes drooped downward as if he were genuinely hurt. Instantly, both the Grand Duke and the Count directed their gazes toward him.
“Ah, on that note, might I take a little food for Her Imperial Highness? She has been taken ill quite often as of late, and I can’t help but wonder if it’s because she’s been eating sand-ridden wheat porridge for days. When meals are so poor, failing health is only the natural course, is it not?”
“W-What… That is an outrageous misunderstanding, Your Grace.”
The more biting Theo’s words became, the more the Bishop’s face paled to a sickly, bruised hue. By contrast, Declan remained entirely expressionless.
“There is no particular need to explain yourself to me.”
Though a hint of laughter laced his voice, there was not a shred of warmth upon his face.
“Still, Sir Monches makes a fair point. If the Princess cannot even eat properly, I hardly dare enjoy such a meal myself.”
As the Grand Duke set down his cutlery, everyone began reading his mood, following suit and laying down their utensils one by one. The lively atmosphere from moments ago froze over in an instant.
“The Bishop must surely know that scorning imperial blood is by no means a light offense. Every religious order in the empire exists under the reign of His Imperial Majesty, after all. If one fails to show courtesy simply because the Princess left the imperial palace to reside here, what could be more irreverent than that?”
At the flat, even cadence of his voice, all color drained entirely from the Bishop’s face.
“I trust the Bishop has not forgotten that before he is a priest serving the gods, he is a servant of His Imperial Majesty.”
“Y-Yes… I shall keep that in mind.”
As an answer close to a groan slipped past the Abbot’s lips, Declan smiled faintly. The Abbot still looked as if he were facing death itself, yet he forced up the corners of his mouth to muster a smile.
Only when Declan raised his glass to offer thanks on behalf of the army for the Abbot’s hospitality did the soldiers return to their cheerful banter and resume their meal.
Once the festive mood had settled into a comfortable rhythm, Declan rose from his seat, having still left his food untouched.
“Count. I shall go check on the wounded, so it would be best if you remained to wrap things up here.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
The gaze that brushed past the Count turned to Theodore, who was seated beside him.
“Theo.”
Even amidst the bustling racket, his quiet voice carried remarkably clear. When Theo turned his head, Declan handed him the plate that had been set before himself.
“I have no appetite, so give my portion to Her Highness.”
Theo took what was offered with a bewildered expression. A flicker of suspicion crossed his mind, but with the Grand Duke promptly leaving the hall looking thoroughly indifferent to the meal, the doubt was soon forgotten.
Whatever the case, today’s banquet would remain a rather delightful memory just for the sight of the Abbot’s crestfallen face.
* * *
When Sienna woke from her daze, the sun had already set completely. Judging by how the noisy clamor outside had quieted, the banquet seemed to have ended.
Gazing out the darkened window with groggy eyes, she quietly slipped out of bed.
Her throat was terribly parched.
Because rain was scarce in Lopawell, it was monastery practice to collect rainwater in buckets whenever it poured.
Their rule was to set about half of it in the washroom and heat the remaining half to make it potable, storing it in the monastery’s dining hall.
However, since the dining hall was where the banquet for the army had been held this afternoon, she felt oddly reluctant to go.
Perched on the edge of the bed in brief contemplation, Sienna concluded that it was already midnight and the soldiers, exhausted from their long march, would hardly be awake at this hour.
She crept up from the bed and cracked the door open slightly, but saw no one through the gap. The priest who had been guarding outside seemed to have stepped away to prepare for tomorrow’s Mass.
As she pushed the door wider, a clinking sound came from near her feet. Lowering her gaze, she saw a silver tray sitting outside the door.
Evidently brought by Theo from the banquet, the tray was piled lavishly with food far too generous for a single meal. Sienna marveled in genuine disbelief for a moment; she had never seen such an abundant spread since coming to Lopawell.
‘Predictable.’
She did not need to see it to know why such food had been placed before her door. She could vividly picture that sly old fox crawling on all fours before the Grand Duke in hopes of returning to the capital.
She had already been utterly sick of the way he seized every chance to approach her or Theo, probing whether any word had arrived from the imperial palace.
Sienna picked up the tray, moved it inside, and stepped out of the room. Perhaps because she had spent the entire day lying down, she had no appetite. She was merely terribly thirsty.
The monastery’s main building was divided into three sections: Sector One to the east housed the priestesses, the central Sector Two held the dining hall and various vestries, and Sector Three to the far west served as the priests’ quarters.
A sudden worry struck her that stepping out might lead to an encounter that would expose her lie. Yet the thought that the priests would be out in the chapel behind the main building around this hour, leaving the area near the dining hall completely deserted, carried far more weight.
With that in mind, Sienna ventured out of her room with a much lighter heart.