Chapter 10
“Are you okay?”
She couldn’t fool her father’s eyes, always filled with worry and affection for his daughter. Kaella gave her approaching father a brave smile.
“I’ve got a bit of a cold. I’m fine.”
“You must have pushed yourself too hard. Do you have any medicine?”
“I took some.”
The medicine she’d hastily obtained had no effect whatsoever. A fierce fever was rising, her body aching and starting to hurt all over.
What if she ended up like this from the very first day of the event? A sigh escaped her, but she still did what she had to do. What choice did she have? She just had to endure, as she always had.
The Emperor seemed depressed because of the Empress and slipped away midway under the excuse of poor health, while Prince Elcanan engaged in a long conversation with the Ostein Duke. And Beatrice Lavalle was stuck to Pheon’s side again.
“Pheon, let me say hello to that prince, too.”
Pheon swiftly picked up a glass of wine from a golden tray carried by a passing servant and handed it to Beatrice.
“Have this first.”
He blocked Beatrice’s mouth with the drink and hid his displeasure.
But Kaella, watching from afar, turned her head away. Her vision was spinning dizzily, so it was best not to look at such sights. It wasn’t anything new anyway. He had always taken special care of Beatrice, and only her.
“It was so much fun today!”
“Thank you for the splendid banquet, Your Highness.”
“Oh, don’t mention it, Your Highness. It wasn’t me—it was all thanks to His Majesty’s attention.”
Her breathing was starting to grow a little ragged, but Kaella gave her all right up to the very end.
The Ostein Duke would be working late at the Imperial Palace tonight. The talks with Keruzhan were only now truly beginning. Leaning against the grand entrance of the now-empty banquet hall after everyone had left, she exhaled a breath hot with fever.
She had done everything she needed to. In any case, this event hosted by the Ostein Duke’s daughter would be deemed a resounding success, and the Ostein Duke’s reputation would rise.
It was a relief if her father could just be a reliable supporter to the Emperor. That way, the chances of him being assassinated would be a little lower.
“Excuse me, Your Highness.”
Clutching her head, she turned to the side. There stood a knight she already knew but whom she ‘now’ didn’t—a knight politely holding out a cloak.
“I am Renar, a knight under Duke Lüsenford. His Grace the Duke is worried that Your Highness’s attire is too thin and sent this.”
It was the soft cloak the Duke had been wearing today, neatly folded and sent via the knight. Even before dying, he had always been like this.
If she looked unwell, he’d send a message telling her to go inside and rest right away, or say just one word before turning away sharply. When she was sick in bed, he never visited even once. If she seemed to need something, at least he’d have Renar or Knight Wilberg bring it.
The only one he personally looked after was Beatrice Lavalle. To that woman, he’d hand her a glass of wine himself and give her anything, but to Kaella, he only sent his subordinates.
That was probably his idea of special treatment, and at the same time, it was telling Kaella, ‘You’re not it.’ Kaella glared at the cloak, biting her lip hard.
If ‘You’re not it,’ then he shouldn’t have sent something like this in the first place. He shouldn’t have said he was worried about her thin clothes.
“Knight Renar. Take me to His Grace the Duke.”
“Pardon?”
“Come on. Lead the way.”
She just wanted to collapse and sleep, and her body was in exactly the state for it, but she headed toward Pheon, with Knight Renar—who always brought her ‘something His Grace the Duke said to deliver’—leading ahead.
She didn’t care if he was in the middle of a secret rendezvous with Beatrice Lavalle. Kaella couldn’t tell if the heat surging through her body was from the illness or from her wounded, twisted victim complex.
It might have been better if Pheon had been with Beatrice. Then she could have drawn a clear line right in front of both of them. But disappointingly, he was quietly conversing with one of his knights.
“Your Grace.”
Pheon looked at Kaella approaching with startled eyes.
Her face was flushed red from the fever, so he hoped she’d go rest soon, but she hadn’t even taken the neatly folded cloak from Knight Renar that he’d sent. She’d come just like that in her dress exposing her shoulders. Her expression was one of firm anger.
“Do you pity me?”
“What?”
Moisture from the fever glistened in Kaella’s eyes, eyes so blue they were praised as if the sky itself had been placed in them.
No, had he made her cry? Kaella huffed, snatched the cloak from Knight Renar, and thrust it at Pheon—or rather, just slapped it onto his arm.
Kaella had never acted so rudely toward him before, leaving Pheon utterly flustered.
“Do you pity me?”
“Kaella.”
What was going on? As the atmosphere grew tense, Kaella’s maids who had followed her and Pheon’s knights quietly slipped back.
“What are you talking about?”
“Why send something like this through a subordinate?”
Her throat hurt, so her voice wasn’t coming out right. Kaella strained her neck to speak more clearly, making her voice sharper and more piercing as it targeted Pheon. He took the cloak she held out for now.
“Kaella.”
“Do you pity me so much that you had to send something like this through a subordinate?”
“That’s not it.”
“Then why send it?”
The strength drained from her questioning voice. Exhausted and weary, Kaella asked.
“Why?”
Why was he so kind in a way that didn’t feel kind at all? He had probably been kind from their first meeting, which she couldn’t even remember because she’d been so young.
He’d wait for Kaella even when she chased after him saying she wanted to go together, though he seemed annoyed. When she fell, he’d help her up, and after that, he’d hold her hand.
Even after going to Lüsenford, he’d faithfully reply to her crookedly written letters, and whenever they met at the Imperial Palace, he was still her unchanged first love.
But this kindness and goodwill, piled up over time, was unfortunately entirely one-sided. It was a heart with a line drawn exactly here.
The moment Kaella sat in the position of Duchess that had to be Beatrice’s, whether by her will or not, Pheon treated even the childhood memories they’d built as if they’d never existed.
“Are you just watching how I react?”
It was so absurd, ridiculous, and laughable. To the man who had imprisoned her without even a shred of courtesy, what had all that past kindness toward Kaella been?
Was it just because she was the Ostein Duke’s daughter that he’d treated her well, and the moment the connection snapped, she became nothing? Was it charity out of pity?
What memories had there even been in Lüsenford? Her husband, who never looked at her, had occasionally sent her something. But that had only been a form of hope torment for her.
In the end, she’d been imprisoned by Pheon and that was it. If there had been even those fond childhood memories, no one could act like that. He should have at least listened to her grievances once.
“Is it amusing?”
The days when she’d sweetly called him ‘oppa’ were all forgotten, unrememberable. His tone toward the Lüsenford Duke, thoroughly excluding her, felt more familiar now. Her speech was all jumbled up.
“If my goodwill has displeased you…”
“You wouldn’t bother bringing it yourself, but it’s worth sending through someone else—just that much?”
“Kaella.”
There had been times when she’d swallowed her words, holding them down tight because she feared his hatred, wanting to seem like a better person to him. There had been so many such times.
“You always send things through others to me. You never bring them yourself.”
Was it because she’d held back so much she thought she’d die? Now, the words she wanted to say were bursting out. No, she couldn’t bear it if she didn’t say them.
“Sending things to someone you don’t want to face is something you do when giving alms. If Your Grace didn’t want to come in person even though we were at the same event, you shouldn’t have sent it at all.”
How far was it from there to where Kaella was? Yet he sent it via a knight.
In Lüsenford, she’d been happy with the little things Knight Renar brought, only realizing later. Pheon had done the bare minimum of husbandly duty with those, without having to see the face of the Duchess he didn’t want to look at.
Pheon had treated her that way even before marriage.
“You always did that to me. Do I seem that pitiful and pathetic to you?”
Now chills were making her teeth chatter, her head throbbing, but Kaella forced herself to look straight at Pheon through her blurring vision.
She knew he wasn’t exactly the husband who had killed her, but even so, the fact that he’d been consistent even before marriage made Kaella feel unjustly wronged. The jumbled memories and soaring fever numbed her reason.
“Don’t pity me. I’m not so low as to need Your Grace’s pity!”
Out of pity, even though she was his proper wife, she’d been treated like a beggar pleading for affection outside that door.
After shouting at Pheon—who was the same before or after her death—Kaella turned away immediately. The Ostein Duke’s knights and maids, standing at a distance, hid their shocked expressions and hurriedly followed her.
Kaella, the noble Ostein Duke’s daughter who had never once been equal to her husband, dragged her tired, aching body forward with every step. The fever was so high her vision spun dizzyingly.
Was she upset seeing Pheon seemingly draw a line with Beatrice only to end up taking care of her as usual, after he’d saved her father this time? It was ridiculous that she still hadn’t come to her senses. It was laughable, yet sorrowful, making the backs of her eyes sting and burn.
“Miss.”
“I’m going home.”
Her vision was spinning, so now she had no choice but to go home. She forced her feet to move.
This time, at twenty-one, this was the complete end with Pheon. The little sister he’d smiled at so warmly had turned serious, so he wouldn’t have any more business with her. That was all their relationship amounted to. A one-sided bond that a reluctant Kaella had forcibly clung to and prolonged.
“That’s not what I…”
The knight’s attempt to stop her was drowned out by another voice calling her.
“…Ella, Duchess! Ostein Duchess!”
It was Pheon’s voice, unmistakable even from afar.
Was he really going to play this game? Biting her lip hard, Kaella stopped to argue once more. But before she could turn toward him, a heavy, warm cloak draped over her cold shoulders first. Her whole body was enveloped in thick warmth.
“Duchess.”
His sharp eyes and nose bridge, inherited perfectly from the famously beautiful Empress, twisted his handsome face in distress as he looked down at her.
“I have been discourteous.”
The man who had always ignored her whether she cried or confronted him point-blank was now at a loss. Receiving an apology from him for the first time in her life shocked Kaella speechless. Even his tone had changed.
“I’m sorry. I had no intention of hurting your feelings.”
His deeply apologetic expression was clearly sincere. It had been so easy to get an apology from Pheon and change his attitude. She thought she should have confronted him sooner.
If she hadn’t waited silently in Lüsenford but confronted and raged at Pheon, would he have understood? No, by then she was the Duchess who’d stolen Beatrice’s cherished spot, so he probably would have thought her arrogant instead?
As Kaella thought that, Pheon apologized to her with full courtesy and formality.
“I was trying to avoid people’s eyes in case uncomfortable rumors spread, but my thinking was very shortsighted. I’m sorry.”
In an instant, his form of address, formality, and tone all rose. He treated Kaella exactly as she treated him. Moreover, his apology made perfect sense.
Of course, a man in love with Beatrice wouldn’t want to get more entangled with Kaella after the Emperor had already hinted once that they suited each other well. She lowered her gaze. Her vision was blurry from the fever. It wasn’t because her heart hurt.
“If you’ll forgive me, I’d like to escort you to your residence. Please allow it.”
To the Lüsenford Duke, the Ostein Duchess had been someone he never wanted to get involved with, from start to finish. She confirmed it once more.
The connection she’d desperately clung to slipped away completely from her fingertips, leaving her empty.
*
The fever was so high her mind was in a complete haze. Her face must have been unpleasantly red.
But after daring to unilaterally lash out at Pheon for the first time, who cared if her face was red or pale.
Kaella lowered her gaze. Her husband, who had always ridden a horse outside the carriage, was riding with her inside for the first time.
Clop-clop, the horses quietly crossed the darkened streets of Kline. Knights from Lüsenford and Ostein escorted the carriage.
The Ostein Duchess’s breaths came in harsh rasps. Her illness was severe, but not a single hair was out of place.
Somehow, she still felt unable to leave Lüsenford, where the cold wind pierced to the bone. It was as if she alone were trapped in an eternal winter.
“I hurt your feelings by sending it separately to avoid strange rumors from linking us. I’m sorry.”
Another formal apology came in the perfect tone of a soldier. With this, the childhood between them was completely erased. Kaella smiled faintly.
“No one would spread such rumors, Your Grace.”
Now her whole body throbbed as if beaten. Because it hurt, she could say painful things without care.
“Everyone in Crania knows who Your Grace cherishes.”
Even after marriage, the Duchess lived in poverty, so the Duke’s hot, almost obsessive love for Beatrice was famous. Kaella felt that needle-like pain at the back of her eyes again.
“Who would dare link someone like me with Your Grace in rumors?”
She had wished for it so much, but it was already decided that she would never receive even a single glance from this man. She’d worked tirelessly, but she’d worked too hard and now was exhausted.
“No one would believe such rumors anyway.”
Only after dying had she firmly ended her foolish one-sided love. She had been that stupid.
*
