"Even if I die, please do not stop providing food to Valmonde's estate."
The words tumbled from my mouth—words that had tormented me all night, more agonizing than months of illness.
"Please. The children are starving."
I'd hoped he would refrain from attacking Valmonde's territory. But I couldn't directly appeal to a man angered by discovering he'd been tricked into marrying me. So I did my best with what little leverage I possessed.
"How saintly," he replied, his voice sharp with sarcasm.
I lifted my head and saw him smiling coldly.
"Magnificent. You sold your body to an enemy family's man for starving children."
"..."
His tone was remarkable—distant and angry simultaneously. Yet having spoken, I couldn't retreat. Somehow I had to secure his affirmation. Once a man of honor gave his word, he wouldn't break it.
"The children suffered starvation at an age when they should have grown strong..." I continued desperately.
"Good. Yes," he said simply.
I looked up, stunned by the easy agreement.
"Really?"
"Yes."
But then his next words froze me.
"However, I don't appreciate it. Which means I'll purchase your mercy according to your price."
"What... what?"
Kaian lifted my chin to meet his gaze directly.
"Ten wagons each time we share a bed."
"..."
"Why? Do you think that's insufficient?"
I trembled. My head dropped.
It felt as though my very soul was tearing apart from unbearable humiliation.
But when Kaian released my chin and moved to leave, I grabbed him with both hands.
"Do it now," I whispered, closing my eyes.
Soon the familiar heat consumed me.
---
## Kaian
He carefully dressed Claudel, who slept as though dead.
The phrase troubled him. He found warmth stirring within at the sight of her sleeping form.
*I didn't intend this.*
He hadn't meant to destroy a sick woman.
He'd simply wanted to see her—just for a moment—because confusion was consuming him and he felt he was losing his mind.
*What was different about Claudel's collapse?*
Until now, those who died beneath his sword on the battlefield were not merely armed enemy soldiers. Sometimes defeating an enemy required destroying what they valued, what they fought to protect. The weak and young were slaughtered without mercy—tactics in service of glory and kingdom.
The blood that flowed beneath waving flags had to be their soldiers' blood. It was Kings who declared war. Lives were lost in harsh border villages. That was natural.
When his men returned from campaigns, having taken countless enemy lives, they rejoiced that their wives had remained safe, that children had been born. There was no remorse. No guilt.
Yet seeing Claudel's blood—blood he'd become so accustomed to witnessing—shocked him in a way he couldn't explain.
He'd simply wanted to see her. To observe with his own eyes whether the woman who seemed so ill yesterday was improving today.
Her frame, which seemed to diminish each time he saw her, was even smaller today than yesterday. Was the disease consuming her at such a pace?
The words she spoke caught him unprepared.
*Even if I die, please do not stop providing food to Valmonde's estate.*
Confusion flooded through him. His thinning patience shattered.
*Even now, she thinks only of others? Not of him? Shouldn't she apologize to him first?*
His pent-up anger became verbal abuse, pouring out: "Claudel. You make me mad like a fucking tyrant."
He'd convinced himself she was manipulating him deliberately.
*"Do it now."*
Unable to resist a single word, unable to shake off the frail woman clinging to him, he held her as an animal might howl.
"You shouldn't die," he said afterward, watching her sleep peacefully.
"Because I won't allow it."
As he rose from the bed, tears formed around her closed eyes.
Kaian, turning away, didn't see them.
---
## The Royal Capital
The Shen River spread wide around the royal castle, presenting a spectacular display today.
Dozens of ships with colorful sails docked at the capital's port, transforming the river into a tapestry of color. The atmosphere near the docks was festive—market stalls overflowed with people eager to sample exotic goods from foreign lands. The excitement permeated even the palace halls.
Precious medicines, rare silks dyed in brilliant hues, and exotic foods were piled like mountains in the vast reception chamber.
This was the third year of King Valquiterre's Exhibition—an event begun to commemorate the peace after war.
"Everyone grows more enthusiastic each year!" one noble observed, raising his glass.
"Indeed," another agreed.
Foreign envoys with their precious goods smiled with satisfaction, sharing drinks and warm words of goodwill.
"The King demonstrates great wisdom," someone flattered.
Valquiterre, raising his glass to the compliment, grinned widely. "You deserve credit for bringing such quality items."
As pleasant words were exchanged, a servant approached and whispered something into the King's ear. Valquiterre's expression shifted—becoming more serious.
"What has occurred?" the Minister of Foreign Affairs asked, unable to contain his curiosity.
Valquiterre waved his hand dismissively. "A matter requiring my personal attention. I'll return shortly. Please continue entertaining our guests generously."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
He left the banquet hall with a serious expression, leaving his subjects bowing.
---
"The news has finally arrived. I've been dying to hear from Rowan," Valquiterre muttered as he walked, his seriousness evaporating into excitement.
He was so curious about Kaian's situation that he'd postponed entertaining foreign dignitaries—a remarkable lapse.
Upon reaching his office, he found a black envelope awaiting him on his desk. It was from his information network in Rowan territory.
Valquiterre lounged in his chair, cutting open the thick paper with a sharp sound. He extracted the contents.
Upon reading the news, his face lit with excitement. He burst into laughter.
"Haha! Magnificent! The Vermont Duke's daughter became crippled in an accident!"
He'd hoped Kaian would suffer a terrible, ruined marriage. This news was even better than he'd dared hope.
On the surface, Kaian appeared to be a militant strategist—cool-headed and calculating. In reality, he was systematic and principled. But his inflexibility went unnoticed because he was talented and simply never failed. He seemed blessed by the gods of victory and success.
Valquiterre, whose eyes burned with jealousy, had wanted to cause Kaian pain by any means. But with the bride crippled by misfortune, it was obvious how deeply Kaian—a perfectionist—would suffer.
*Surely he'll kill that woman with his own hands soon?*
It was a reasonable suspicion.
Kaian was so superior and perfect that he had a terrible personality—forcing his standards on those around him. He despised flawed people. He needed everything around him to be whole, perfect, excellent.
Yet Valquiterre, as Crown Prince entitled to the kingdom's best treasures, resented that if Kaian obtained something outstanding, what should have rightfully been his went to Kaian instead. Moreover, Kaian was so possessive that he never relinquished anything, even when asked to lend or surrender it.
Valquiterre thought his mothers were wrong to have allowed this.
Even though Kaian was his maternal cousin, they should have established clear military hierarchy. Though raised like brothers of the same age, Kaian differed fundamentally in his loyalty—he listened to Valquiterre's orders but maintained independence that bordered on defiance.
*What is the Duke of Vermont plotting?*
It was Valquiterre who had leaked information to the Duke about Kaian's military preparations. Even though they were cousins, wouldn't it be useful if the pillar supporting the kingdom collapsed?
At that point, the King would order the marriage, forcing the Duke of Vermont to reconcile. "I forgive you," he'd say, eyes gleaming with killing intent.
Vermont, weakened by drought, lacked strength to attack Temnes directly. But if Vermont used accumulated northern mine wealth to hire mercenaries, that wealth would flow to Valquiterre through the mercenary guild. When Vermont's attack failed and they were annihilated, the kingdom would finally gain the long-desired trading port in northern Valmonde.
If Temnes lost, Kaian would be killed by the Duke of Vermont. A satisfying outcome either way.
"Is a battle where neither side loses truly interesting? No. Boring," Valquiterre mused with satisfaction.
"One must always see from above."
He burned the letter and summoned Makie.
"Prepare for travel. I'm visiting Rowan next month."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
Valquiterre returned to the banquet with a satisfied expression.
---
## Claudel
The subsequent days proved surprisingly peaceful.
Kaian visited occasionally but never returned to the anger and verbal abuse of that first time. Yet even this calm felt ominous—like the stillness before a storm.
It was strange that I was dying.
I was very afraid.
"Perhaps... I can't change where I'm buried?" I asked one day as soon as I saw him, and he frowned immediately.
"I thought it would be appropriate for the new Duchess to be buried in the cemetery."
"You seemed quite attached to that spot," he said, his tone sarcastic yet carrying some sincerity beneath.
"Because one cannot have everything one desires."
I found I could speak freely with Kaian now. The loss of my secrets had unlocked my tightly sealed mouth. Now that what I'd hidden for fear of discovery was known, I spoke to him about anything.
Part of me feared he would suddenly demand I enter a monastery or hospital. Another part trembled at the fear of death itself. But now that someone knew my fate, I wanted to reveal everything I'd been suppressing.
"There. Where white flowers bloom. It was beautiful. Under a tree. That would be a nice place to be buried."
Kaian couldn't bear it any longer. He jumped to his feet and screamed.
"You speak of dying so casually! Do you think Kaian of Temnes cannot procure a single medicine?!"
My eyes widened.
"...Medicine?"
---