Chapter 7
Anaide startled and covered herself with the blanket, then, realizing someone of lower status than her had called out, tried to act composed as she shouted back.
“Are you a new maid?”
“Yes. May I enter to attend to you?”
“Y-yes.”
When she answered loudly, soon an unfamiliar woman opened the door and appeared.
“May you watch over all lives that sleep after ending their weary day. I greet the Moon of Rutilan, navigator of the night sky and sole companion of the earth.”
With high formal greetings, the woman bowed deeply. When Anaide, wrapped in blankets, got up and straightened her posture, the woman’s face was revealed again like an incoming tide.
“I am Fidelita de Fides, daughter of Viscount Hebel. From today, I will serve as Your Majesty the Queen’s head maid.”
She was a person with a cool, clean impression. Her hair cut sharp as a sword above her shoulders was ordinary light brown, but her eyes were as clear and blue as the sky.
Anaide stared at Fidelita’s irises for a moment with a strange feeling like looking at a lake of unknown depth, then hurriedly got up from the bed.
Fidelita skillfully retrieved comfortable clothes from the toilette room, then approached her.
“I’ll help you change first, Your Majesty.”
Soon she tried to remove the blanket wrapped around Anaide’s body. Anaide, who had been about to naturally receive the maid’s assistance, suddenly startled and pulled the blanket around herself like a cloak.
“Ah, no. I’ll dress myself.”
Fidelita tilted her head slightly as if puzzled, but Anaide’s gaze had already turned to her own wrist.
If the blanket was removed like this, the skin battered from last night’s affairs would be revealed.
She couldn’t show that state even if it killed her. No, she might show it if she really had to die, but she’d want to die from embarrassment the moment she was caught.
Anaide carefully extracted the dress hanging on Fidelita’s forearm as if picking up food with tongs.
The unnecessarily diligent Fidelita still tried to help by untying the dress ribbons, but Anaide shook her head vigorously and backed toward the bathroom.
“No, no! I’m fine.”
“You might fall. You haven’t even had breakfast yet.”
“I’m not that weak.”
“…”
“Really, truly.”
In the end, Fidelita, who couldn’t go against her superior, withdrew first. Anaide urgently entered the bathroom, asking her to wait a moment.
As soon as she entered the bathroom, she gasped and inhaled sharply.
She was in terrible shape. At the unbelievable sight, she kept blinking, and Anaide’s vision repeatedly darkened and brightened.
Anaide muttered some rather cute level cursing befitting a princess and released the power stored in her body.
Just as priests blessed erosion-rotted land to make plants grow, her skin covered with red marks gradually became clean.
Regeneration. The power opposite to ‘erosion’ that destroys everything. That was the ability Anaide possessed.
Having healed the bruises using regenerative power, she hurriedly unfastened her dress.
‘Just how much of this do I have to do to have a child?’
In her heart, she wanted to leave the palace immediately and grab even a passing commoner to ask.
Anaide clasped her hands together and prayed to the distant god. Please don’t let menstruation come next month…
Time flowed rapidly like riding rapids.
Only powerless daily life barely continued. Though Anaide was the king’s wife, her husband was the very one who had destroyed her maternal family. Unable to do anything but depend on Fernir, she couldn’t easily grasp any task.
Today was the same. Anaide, reflecting on her situation, deliberately shook her head as if trying to shake off ominousness, but the bleakness of the maze garden visible through clean glass made her surroundings sink.
What should she do?
Except for Fernir visiting the queen’s palace every night, the days were no different from when her father was alive. That subtle similarity actually created discord.
Though it was a familiar situation, it was excessively quiet.
As if solitude were her childhood friend.
Should she ask the royal seamstresses to make new clothes? Or should she take maids and wander around theaters and exhibition halls like other nobles do?
Frowning, Anaide shook her head slightly. None seemed like good choices. Though they might be the worst choices.
She didn’t want to be branded as a stupid, luxurious former princess–not even a proper queen. For now, she didn’t want to be caught with any flaws.
‘But staying cooped up in the queen’s palace just to avoid being faulted won’t work either…’
Anaide sighed deeply and leaned back, taking a deep breath. The lukewarm air characteristic of greenhouses filled her lungs.
After breathing several times, she touched the cape-style collar that barely covered her shoulders. Soft-textured lace caught at her fingertips.
At that moment, Fidelita, who had been waiting at some distance, brought uncomfortable news.
“Your Majesty.”
“Yes?”
“His Majesty has come to visit.”
The face of Anaide, who had been sitting vacantly before the desolate tea table, hardened completely. Her chest area became stiff as if someone had pulled a rope.
Simple refreshments were set on the tea table that had been bare and desolate. When Fidelita’s clean, white hands completely left the table, soon a black-clad man completely unsuited to this setting appeared in Anaide’s view.
If there had been urgent business to report, he would have sent a separate message for confirmation. But seeing him come find her and deal with her like this, it seemed what he was about to discuss wasn’t very important.
So she should drink something while dealing with him.
What was prepared happened to be warm black tea. Though it wasn’t Anaide’s preference for citrusy sweet-and-sour tea like her hair color, the taste and aroma were excellent as all things supplied to the royal family were.
Anaide brought the teacup to her lips as if she’d been waiting.
Then a delicate, low laugh rang from slightly above eye level. As if understanding the intention of a woman who drank tea before even conversing.
Unexpectedly, Fernir didn’t point out Anaide’s behavior. He drew her attention with a voice softer than expected.
“Try returning to society.”
Instead, he opened the conversation with even bolder words.
Trying not to look up to examine his expression inadvertently, she steadfastly sipped her black tea and carefully set the teacup down on the porcelain saucer. Anaide’s even voice spread through the air.
“Why are you saying that?”
“I thought you might have nothing to do.”
It was his characteristic way of speaking that made commands feel like suggestions.
Fernir leaned back slightly, crossed his legs, and rested his back against the chair.
Though the decorations on chairs for teatime were sophisticated, they were equally compact, and the armrests were incredibly thin, completely unsuiting someone as tall as him. If his body had been bulkier, it would have surely looked like forcing an object into a box it didn’t fit.
But now it seemed like facing Fernir seated on a throne. Such an illusion occurred momentarily.
Light blue-green veins stood out on Anaide’s hands gripping the velvet dress hem covering her knees under the tea table. When she stared at Fernir as if demanding explanation, he shrugged and continued nonchalantly.
“Since the Queen’s nights are always given to me, isn’t it normal to think you should do something during the day?”
Was he saying she should have considered this while awake? A bitter smile appeared on Anaide’s face.
‘Society–I don’t even know how much life I have left to participate in society.’
Countless nobles would have been expelled. Among them, those close to her father would have been executed along with their children and parents.
It was fortunate in misfortune that she had no one she could call a friend. As a princess, she had been on friendly terms with capital nobles who had young ladies or gentlemen of similar age, but she had never formed deep relationships with anyone.
If there was someone with whom she’d shared affection beyond friendship, he was right here in front of her.
She looked at Fernir silently, then immediately lowered her eyes when she met his gray eyes with their peculiar color.
One of Fernir’s eyebrows moved slightly. He tapped the tea table with his finger as if reproaching her.
“Didn’t you like socializing with people?”
Anaide, who had placed her teacup on the saucer, swallowed silently. Of course, she had properly entered society after her debutante ball at eighteen. Being popular was also thanks to that arduous effort.
‘But if you ask whether that was my will… it wasn’t particularly that.’
She was a much more introverted person than Fernir thought.
Look, hadn’t she been staying alone in the quiet maze garden until just now?
Though it was a lonely place with no pretty flowers, green foliage, or even singing birds, Anaide rather liked this place.
It also helped with the ‘work’ of overpainting memories of being lovers with Fernir with those of a completely different season.
Though an uninvited guest had come and kept draining her energy. Anaide chose an appropriate answer to return to Fernir’s question.
“The year isn’t over yet. There’s no way nobles would come. Going into society now isn’t timely.”
“Among provincial nobles, there should be families starting to come up around now.”
Provincial nobles would mean the northern nobles who had risen as new central powers with Fernir’s ascension. She calmly asked Fernir back.
“…You mean your fellow regional nobles?”
“No. Not just northern nobles, but eastern and western farmlands, southern coasts, and all the capital nobles still remaining.”
However, Fernir simply refuted Anaide’s words. When she raised her gaze, he added quite indifferently while tapping the teacup in front of him.
“They’ll come if only to see what kind of fellow this Lakies Duke was to kill the so troublesome Wendel and sit on Rutilan’s throne.”
“…”
“How about it, doesn’t it sound interesting? Your husband and mortal enemy will soon be put on trial by the nobles.”
