Chapter 10
Fidelita approached asking if she was alright, but Anaide heard the maid’s voice as if submerged underwater.
She shook her head and curled up her body while frowning.
“I’m fine.”
“Are you perhaps feeling unwell? We should call a physician—”
“No, I’m really fine. Don’t call anyone.”
Anaide answered sharply without thinking and shook her head vigorously. She regretted it for a moment, but Fidelita had already silently clasped her hands in front and stepped back.
She rolled her lips slightly inward. She had spoken curtly because of an unreasonable ominous feeling that Fernir would come with the physician.
‘I took out my anger on an innocent person…’
Anaide lowered her head in shame and guilt.
She had thought her neurosis and everything would be fine if she just worked, but perhaps that had been too great an expectation. She might have needed to find her mother’s belongings somehow before attending to internal affairs.
However, it would be embarrassing to leave without working here. It was true that she had been looking for work to do.
Anaide finally began searching through the parts with almost no red marks.
Scratch, scratch—names of noble ladies and young women who could be invited to the salon were written on paper in sequence.
Her gaze gradually became serious. She moved beyond the simple state of ‘white is paper, black is writing’ to focus on substantial content like titles, forms of address, and family names.
Outside was filling with red light from the sunset like a wine glass being filled. Simple refreshments were prepared on the desk to replenish the queen’s energy.
Pages wild with blood-red ink mixed with the scattering sunset.
Thanks to this, her hands moved quickly across various places. It was the result of habitual practice.
The moment she closed the registry after writing the last noble lady’s name who could be invited:
“Oh…!”
Anaide let out a short scream.
Though she hadn’t turned the pages that forcefully, the front cover of the registry, which should have been a palace treasure, was separating from the book.
She tried to hastily attach the cover to the edge of the registry, but the spine mockingly revealed the thin binding thread in the middle as if saying it was impossible.
It wasn’t like she had deboned a fish—what on earth was happening…
‘Did I turn the pages too quickly?’
Her shaking pupils turned toward Fidelita, who was standing a bit away from the desk. It seemed Fidelita also found this situation strange, with fine cracks on her face.
Feeling unnecessarily guilty, Anaide shook her head as if explaining to her.
“No, no.”
“Pardon?”
“I didn’t do it. It seems it was already like this.”
Though her explanation sounded more like an excuse, Anaide decided not to care. She spoke aloud as if for Fidelita to hear.
“Right. It’s not like I burned the registry—the pages are just about to separate from each other. Would they make me like this cover in payment for damaging a treasure? The registry would have needed to be remade anyway.”
“…”
“Right, Fidelita?”
“Yes, of course. I know His Majesty is not such a petty person.”
When Anaide’s question demanding a set answer was met with rigid Fidelita’s agreement, they couldn’t have been more in sync.
Despite the clear intention to reassure her, Anaide wanted to shout that Rutilan’s king was actually a very petty person. But since she didn’t want to commit blasphemy and be immediately dragged to the execution ground, she had to suppress that feeling as much as possible.
Anaide bit her lips firmly and examined the white binding thread hanging from the front cover and the spine. She would have to show this to either a historian or document officer, but something caught Anaide’s keen aesthetic eye.
‘Isn’t the thread remaining on the spine a bit… unnatural?’
The front cover was one step away from being completely cut from the book, and the loosely bound middle pages were also trying to separate from each other. In this state, the binding thread at the back should also be coming out in pieces.
‘But why is the back part so sturdy?’
As if only this part had been newly bound…
When she carefully lifted the registry to examine the split area, indeed only the back part had properly survived. Even some pages at the back seemed to have been entirely removed, with the paper thickness shorter than the width of the spine cover.
If the registry had become like this, there was only one answer.
‘There were additional pages at the back.’
But after completely removing those additional pages and binding the remaining part to attach to the front, the front part that had been supporting the relatively weakly bound back part was about to disintegrate.
Moreover, nobles who would be at the very back would certainly be those who hadn’t originally been noble-born but had newly become nobles or received minor titles like baronet. Such nobles would be easier to modify later if attached to the back.
…And there was only one person who had achieved social advancement over the past generation and received a minor title.
The person who had supported Anaide most closely when she lived lonely in the princess’s palace after her birth mother passed away.
Anaide’s second mother.
She, who had been staring blankly into space, spoke the name of the existence that had vanished without a trace from the registry.
“Wet nurse…”
The wet nurse, who had the highest status among Anaide’s maids, had been deleted from the registry.
Most of the noble-born maids who had served Princess Anaide were dead. The survivors were only those who had quit being maids for reasons like marriage or had luckily switched to Fernir’s camp.
But what about commoners or maids from commoner backgrounds?
Had Fernir really killed all of them without exception?
Wasn’t there even one person still alive?
She looked through the registry once more to see if her wet nurse’s name was there, but couldn’t find any trace of her anywhere.
‘Whether there’s a red line or not… it doesn’t make sense that someone who received a title isn’t here.’
Anaide took out another sheet of paper to plan the invitation content, then decided to send the list of noble ladies and letter content she had organized separately to the palace’s scribe.
Though there were many people who could copy letters instead of her, investigating the whereabouts of her wet nurse, who had been important to her, was something only Anaide could do.
She intended to go to the only person who might know about her wet nurse’s life or death.
After organizing her surroundings, Anaide called to stop Fidelita, who was about to open the door first.
“Fidelita.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Tell the chief chamberlain who assists the king. I need to see His Majesty.”
Anaide began preparing to go to the king’s palace.
Though she felt overwhelmed at the thought of seeing again the man she had fled from like an escape just a few hours ago, the small hope that had bloomed stirred Anaide’s heart.
The silver necklace chain with diamond points had become lukewarm from so much handling.
When the chief chamberlain who had come out in advance led the way, she also tried to hide her urgency and walked cheerfully toward the office.
‘Is my wet nurse really still alive?’
She was the person who had collected the former queen’s belongings and brought them to Anaide.
Her mother’s technical manuals had once nearly become fireplace kindling, so Anaide’s wet nurse had protected the former queen’s belongings with the resolve to enter the fireplace herself.
For Anaide, her wet nurse was a precious and grateful person.
‘She said she would go home and come back… Did she escape early?’
Anaide bore some responsibility for the maids’ deaths, as she had no power to prevent them.
‘Please… at least my wet nurse.’
Anaide fervently hoped. Though it was unfair to say to all those already dead, please let at least her wet nurse be alive.
It didn’t take long for her to see Fernir’s face.
As soon as she saw his black hair, Anaide hurriedly bowed from the waist. She gracefully greeted him while lifting her skirt hem.
“Have you been well, Your Majesty? Good afternoon.”
But her husband had a talent for leaving people speechless. Instead of returning the greeting, Fernir just leaned back in his chair and answered as if muttering.
“I didn’t expect you to come find me first.”
“…”
“I’ve imagined you coming here many times, but as expected, it doesn’t really suit you.”
Unlike usual, it wasn’t a sarcastic tone. Rather, it felt like he genuinely found it curious that Anaide was here.
‘What am I supposed to do about not suiting the place?’
Was he telling her to leave immediately since he hated seeing her face? It was unfortunate for Fernir, but this time Anaide had no particular intention of backing down.
When she hardened her lips as if she’d eaten bitter herbs, Fernir tapped his fingertips on the desk as if telling her to state her business quickly.
“So why did you come here?”
“Following Your Majesty’s advice to try returning to society, while investigating the noble registry, I discovered there’s someone missing from it. I have something to ask about this ‘missing person.'”
“…Wait.”
“Yes, please speak.”
“Don’t tell me you’re…”
“…”
“Asking about the guys I killed?”
A sharp current instantly flowed through Anaide’s spine. She had only wanted to ask about her wet nurse’s life or death, but had unintentionally provoked Fernir. What kind of bolt from the blue was this?
She swallowed dry saliva and slowly raised her head toward Fernir. The pressure of the sudden massive purge rushed straight at Anaide. Even the chief chamberlain staying in the office was clearly startled by the king’s direct tone, though he tried not to show it.
Not only Fernir’s but also the chief chamberlain’s gaze turned toward her.
She was trapped by two pairs of eyes.
As she pondered what answer to give, Fernir rested his chin and responded in a completely drained tone.
“But I already marked all of those as deceased.”
“…”
“Personally.”
Anaide, who had been keeping silent while waiting for Fernir’s answer, slowly nodded and then arranged her expression. Pretending to know, pretending to be confident.
Even if she was close to being a tool, a queen was still a queen.
She absolutely couldn’t be pushed down here. The royal etiquette Anaide had learned firsthand managed to dust off the faded crown atop the queen’s head, however difficultly.
“I don’t want to dwell on past events.”
“Then?”
“This is literally a ‘gap.’ If a ‘missing person’ appeared even though Your Majesty personally managed the registry, this would be an even more important matter.”
“…”
“Because it could mean someone manipulated the registry.”
Though Anaide was convinced from the circumstances that Fernir was the one who had manipulated the registry and removed her wet nurse’s name, she added excuse-like explanations while pretending to know nothing.
A shield called justification—that she herself had acted as queen considering her duties and the possibility that the king’s authority had been undermined.
It was an answer based entirely on survival instinct.
