Chapter 2
The wedding was held in the North.
The Grand Duke, Karl von Ludwig, was a man like the sun.
A war hero. The blessed figure of the era.
Wherever he passed, people erupted in cheers, and it was evident that everyone belonging to the Grand Ducal household believed in him and followed him without question.
A man utterly unlike her. Someone for whom overflowing goodwill and boundless attention were as natural as breathing.
It might have been only natural that she found herself drawn to him. People were often captivated by those who possessed what they lacked.
The imperial palace. And now the North.
Though the places, surroundings, and faces around her had changed all at once, the gazes directed at her remained the same.
If there was any difference, it was merely this, from the discarded imperial princess, she had now become a woman brazen enough to claim the seat beside the Grand Duke.
Still, the people’s eyes upon her were anything but kind.
She was used to it.
It was bearable.
The seething hatred and dark emotions others harbored for her, the way scattered glances would quietly gather into an oppressive, suffocating darkness. She had long since learned how to endure it, suppress it, and carry on.
She merely had to continue as she always had.
The Emperor’s decision to wed her to the Grand Duke held no particular significance. It was nothing more than a calculated move to suppress a war hero whose fame and the people’s favor had grown too great, by binding him to a discarded daughter of the imperial family.
There was nothing to expect, just because the place had changed.
And yet…
“The people of the North are not accustomed to outsiders. Given time, they will surely open their hearts. Please, do not trouble yourself too much over it.”
As though sensing that she was troubled by their glances, he spoke gently, his words flowing like water, offering comfort and consideration.
It was the first kindness she’d ever received.
Her heart dropped in her chest.
It was then that she faintly realized, though she had believed herself to be barren, parched of all feeling, her body, her heart, was in truth desperately starved for warmth, for the attention of another.
The Grand Duke’s kindness did not end with those few words on that day.
Every evening, they dined together. He personally guided her through the duties of the Grand Duchess, introducing her to people, one by one.
Tasks he could have easily left to others, yet he insisted on doing them himself, for her.
Inevitably, her gaze lingered on him.
His thoughtfulness dug its way into the deep cracks of her dried and withered heart. The longer time passed, the more her assumption that he, too, must surely hate her began to weaken. The walls of her wariness slowly crumbled.
She had thought a man like him would never care for a powerless woman, married to him at the Emperor’s command. But perhaps, perhaps that might not be the case, a timid, hesitant thought took root.
Because she no longer wished to be hated. She no longer wanted to be the object of scornful, venomous gazes.
Perhaps, it was why she allowed herself to entertain such presumptuous hopes.
The Grand Duke’s constant, unceasing respect, his tenderness, and warmth crept into her heart.
He would often brush her cheek with his hand, or press a featherlight kiss to her brow.
And it wasn’t only when they were alone.
Many within the Grand Ducal household bore witness to his gentle treatment of her. And ever so slowly, the gazes directed her way began to soften.
Very, very slowly.
So subtly, in fact, she didn’t notice it at first.
She knew next to nothing, not even the most basic education had been afforded to her, and of course, she was in no position to fulfill the duties of a Northern mistress from the start.
She was clumsy and incapable. It would have been no surprise had he found her irritating.
And yet, the Grand Duke never once showed a flicker of impatience. Not once did he frown.
He explained everything to her carefully, thoroughly, tending to each minor matter, leaving no detail overlooked.
At that time, the only thing she could do was read.
Still, she tried.
She believed it was her duty to meet him where he stood, and she pored over books, one after another, studying the ways of the North.
It may have been a crude, inelegant method, some might have scorned it, but she organized the ledgers, one item at a time, by sheer persistence.
That day too, she stayed up through the night.
In the depths of night, a knock came at her door. When she opened it, a tray lay outside, holding tea still faintly steaming, and small confections.
An act of kindness from the servants.
Little by little, the people of the Grand Ducal estate began to open their hearts to her. The prejudices born of her title and origins gradually faded, replaced by glimmers of trust.
It was the first warmth she had ever known.
The long-barren emptiness inside her began to soften.
The colorless, ashen days that had passed her by now slowly began to take on a hue.
Her thin, starved body started to fill out. Color returned to her cheeks. The face that had always been empty of expression now began to regain emotion. Laughter appeared with growing frequency.
Thus, one full cycle of Northern seasons passed.
And one and a half years after she had come to the Grand Ducal estate…
That day, she found herself idly watching through the window as the Grand Duke led the knights in drills at the training grounds, wielding his sword.
Without realizing it, a smile touched her lips.
It was then that she became aware.
As she gazed at him from afar, she was smiling.
Smiling as she watched the Grand Duke command his knights, sword in hand, upon the field.
The moment she recognized what that meant, she shrank where she stood.
Her heart thundered in her chest.
The pounding was so fierce she could hear it in her ears.
Her face grew hot. She didn’t need a mirror to know it must have flushed a deep, burning red.
Sun-drenched golden hair, gleaming like honey. Blue eyes bright as the clear sky.
His image filled her mind, leaving no room for anything else.
Ah.
It was a feeling she had always believed to be a luxury, one she was unworthy of. And yet, it welled up inside her so intensely that she could hardly lift her head.
Yes, back then, she had simply been happy.
Loving the Grand Duke was entirely different from the way she had once yearned for the Emperor’s, or her father’s, or her mother’s affection back in the Imperial Palace.
Because, this time, it hadn’t felt one-sided. He had returned her affection, through his words, his actions.
Her heart swelled.
The world itself seemed brighter.
Even though the frigid, barren North left her more often ill than she had ever been in the Imperial Palace, it no longer felt difficult.
Having someone to lean on, she realized, was a far greater happiness than she could have imagined.
And it was her first love. Perhaps that made it all the more overwhelming.
As time passed, the Grand Duke’s obligations steadily increased, and the moments he could spare for her gradually diminished. Still, it was enough.
The less time he spent at her side, the more her heart grew toward him. The life he had created for her within the Grand Duke’s estate was endlessly warm.
The hateful stares that once clung to her had disappeared. In their place came the kindness of the household staff, and the warmth of the Grand Duke, and the love she felt for him that filled every corner of her heart.
The life that had once been nothing but grey, untouched by any light, had reversed itself completely. A warmth she had never known seemed to melt away the frozen walls surrounding her.
The Grand Duke had become her salvation.
Everything she saw reminded her of him. When she looked at the bedchamber, she thought of how he had once held her so gently in his arms. When she saw a flower, she recalled how he had likened it to her beauty.
Were they lovers?
No, it was a bond deeper than that.
They were husband and wife. A family.
And to think, the first person she had ever allowed herself to lean on was someone so endlessly kind. It filled her with joy.
She believed she could finally cast off the dark days of her past in the Imperial Palace and live in the light.
She believed, perhaps, that the gods had heard her prayers, that they had blessed her.
But in the second winter she spent at the Grand Duke’s estate, misfortune crept in, quietly and without warning.
The North was a land constantly under threat from monsters, and that day, too, the Grand Duke had left with his knights to drive back the creatures that had slipped through the weakened barriers.
She had no acquaintances among the noble ladies of the North. And the Grand Duke, who granted her every wish, had allowed only one exception, she was never permitted to mingle in society.
As the discarded imperial princess, it was unthinkable that anyone from the palace would send her a personal letter. So the feeling she first felt upon being handed one was, inevitably, suspicion.
Who could it be?
The butler, having delivered it with utmost formality, withdrew. She turned the pink envelope over in her hands.
— Sarsha von Barte.
A name she had never heard before.
She hesitated, then carefully opened the envelope.
A faint worry pricked at her, had this been intended for the Grand Duke? Yet her own name was plainly engraved in the recipient’s space.
— Ashila von Ludwig.
Her eyes caught on the name. It bore not the imperial surname, but the Grand Duke’s.
Even something so small pleased her. Smiling faintly, she unfolded the letter.
Looking back, she realized that was the moment it began.
The moment everything she had come to believe in started to crack.
It was the cause of the moment she would learn that her peaceful days had been nothing but a fragile illusion.
She wondered, if she had never opened that letter, might things have turned out differently.
Slowly, she opened the paper, and froze.
[I am carrying Karl’s child. Before we become family, I wished to meet you, Grand Duchess. If you truly believe he loves you, then I will tell you the truth.]
— Tap.
The letter slipped from her grasp and fell to the floor before she could even finish reading.
Her fingers went numb.
Her thoughts stopped.
Karl…?
The Grand Duke’s name.
Even she, his wife, had never been permitted to call him by his name.
And yet here it was.
And a child? What did that mean?
The Grand Duke had lain with her, dutifully, on the most auspicious night for conception, once a month without fail. If anyone should have been carrying his child, it should have been her.
Family? Before they became family?
His lover was her. His wife was her. She was the one who had received his tender kisses.
She loved him. And he had answered her love, or so she had believed. So what was this so-called truth?
Fragments of unread words from the letter swirled in her mind.
She was confused. She couldn’t make sense of it.
“Is something wrong, Ashila?”
Returning from the hunt, the Grand Duke spoke, a look of worry in his eyes as he gently caressed her cheek.
She could say nothing.
Perhaps it was the instinct of a creature desperate not to be wounded.
She didn’t want to ask about the letter.
Because if what it claimed was true, if it was real, she was terrified of how she would shatter the moment she heard his answer.
Even in that moment, her feelings for the Grand Duke were growing far larger than she had realized.
Each of his gestures, each word, had seemed steeped in affection. Or so she had believed.
“It’s nothing. I love you, my lord.”
She was so caught in the storm of her thoughts, she didn’t even realize she had spoken the words aloud for the first time.
And she failed to notice the smile that crept across the Grand Duke’s lips, a smile too twisted to be called affectionate.
She didn’t yet realize it was the beginning of a far deeper misfortune.
