## Claudel's Perspective
I watched Kaian and Valquiterre embrace with something akin to envy.
His tone with the King was completely different from how he spoke to me. Relaxed. Open. Genuine. The coldness that defined him in my presence had vanished entirely.
Hannah and Madame Marcel had insisted he cared deeply for me, but they remained outside his walls. Servants. They saw only what he allowed them to see.
I was his wife. Shouldn't I be closest to him?
His walls came down only when our bodies touched. In those intimate moments, I felt him truly present. But afterward? The barriers rose again, seemingly impenetrable.
*If I was truly his person, someone he trusted absolutely, wouldn't he show me this version of himself?*
The comparison hurt more than I cared to admit.
"It's really nice to see you like this," Valquiterre said warmly.
"It would be nice to live always like this," Kaian replied. "But I thought you'd never call me by my name again after what happened."
"I tend to keep a strict distinction between public and private life."
I looked at them with barely concealed longing. *Someday, will Kaian trust me enough to drop his guards? Will he ever look at me the way he looks at his brother?*
The thought felt impossibly distant.
"Isn't it cold?" Kaian suddenly turned to me, his attention shifting.
"I'm fine."
"Your clothes are thin." He adjusted my shawl, wrapping it more securely around my neck. "There's a meal waiting in the room. Go warm up."
"What about you?"
"Soon."
But Valquiterre intervened. "Don't leave. Let's have breakfast together. I'll have maids bring you proper clothes."
Kaian's expression hardened slightly, but he didn't argue.
I found myself caught between two formidable forces—a king and my husband, each wielding power over my life in different ways. Retreat seemed the only option.
"Then I'll wait for a proper formal greeting, Your Majesty," I said, excusing myself.
Valquiterre said nothing, merely watching in silence.
As I walked back to the chamber, disappointment settled heavily. *Was my appearance so poor that he refused to let me stay?*
I'd worn comfortable Rowen clothes, my face bare except for washing. My hair was brushed, but nothing elaborate.
When I reached the mirror in our room, I sighed. *Tomorrow, I'll have to abandon comfort for propriety.*
But what I truly regretted was missing more moments of seeing Kaian like that—relaxed, open, so utterly beautiful in his ease.
I removed my shawl and sat at the table where breakfast waited. Kaian was still asleep, so I'd asked a servant to light the fireplace. The warmth felt good.
The soup was thick and savory. The bread was soft, warm, infused with butter. I ate slowly, savoring each bite.
*Why am I so hungry?*
Before Herzol, I'd never felt such constant appetite. Now, even after the cure, the hunger persisted.
*I should ask the doctor about this when we return to Rowen.*
Along with all the other concerns. The inability to bear children. The changes in my body. The endless worry that I was failing him in some fundamental way.
---
## Kaian and Valquiterre's Conversation
When Claudel left, Valquiterre sounded disappointed. "Do you think I'm a leisurely man? We finally have time to talk."
"It won't work," Kaian said firmly.
"Why not?" Valquiterre watched as his cousin stood resolute. "The meal will be here in twenty minutes."
"She can't wait that long. She becomes distressed when hungry."
Valquiterre frowned. "How do you know that?"
"I'm her husband. How would I not?" Kaian's response was cold. "Claudel needs to eat at set times."
"Ha. I can't believe you're calling yourself 'husband' like that." Valquiterre smiled without humor. "It's creepy and strange. Look at what your forced marriage created—a monster of a man."
Kaian crossed his arms, glaring at the King. This was their first true conversation since the marriage order had arrived by telegram. Their initial exchange had been so heated that Kaian had stormed from the King's office. Now, after two years since the war's triumphal ceremony, they finally had leisure to speak.
"Despite your complaints, you're managing well," Valquiterre observed.
"For example?"
"I heard you danced brilliantly at Rowen's fall festival."
"And?"
"But then you never returned to the festival grounds."
"Did you send spies?"
"Did I need to? Could I stop people from talking about the famous Rowen Festival?" Valquiterre pulled up a chair and sat beside Kaian in the hanging garden. "Marriage to Vermont. I thought the worst, but you're... trying."
"If you get married, theory and reality diverge," Kaian said simply.
"What's the difference?"
"People."
People were the greatest variable. Because Claudel had become his wife, Kaian did things he'd never imagined.
"Six months ago, I was prepared to burn Valmonde," Kaian continued quietly. "Now I'm planning to take my wife on a trip to her homeland."
Valquiterre's expression shifted—genuine surprise. "That's... remarkable."
Kaian placed a hand on his cousin's shoulder. "You should marry quickly, Valquiterre."
"Now I regret ordering your marriage most of all." Valquiterre laughed without humor. "You sound like every capital noble discussing their wives."
"That's not a bad thing."
"Smug." But Valquiterre studied him seriously. "If you know a good woman, introduce her to me. Someone trustworthy."
Kaian felt the weight beneath the request. *Finding a woman to trust. How is that possible?*
Both men had been honed sharp during the wars, sharpened so they wouldn't break easily. But marriage could be a new beginning.
"Is your bride trustworthy?" Valquiterre asked pointedly.
"She's a trustworthy person," Kaian replied, but the words felt hollow.
*No. Not yet.*
He wanted to believe her. He was trying to get her to believe him in return. Yet Claudel could easily send word to the Duke of Vermont, her uncle—Kaian's enemy. She could contact telegraph offices he didn't monitor.
But she hadn't. Kaian had read every telegram she'd sent to Vermont. Hannah had become his loyal servant. There was no evidence of deception.
Still, complete trust eluded him.
*When will I be able to trust her completely? What happens after Vermont is defeated?*
The thought made him want to become violent. He forced it down.
"Your marriage was important for the kingdom's sake," Valquiterre said softly. "Your will mattered most."
"The marriage was important for you, for the kingdom," Kaian corrected. "Not for me. I'm sorry for no reason."
"No." Kaian's chest tightened. "If marrying her brings the kingdom comfort, then it's fine. As long as it's for you."
Valquiterre laughed and drew his cousin into an embrace. "If I had subjects like you, I could rest easily."
"But the formal ceremony announcement was too much. You were genuinely angry."
Valquiterre withdrew his pocket watch. "Time has passed. I must go. The King's Birthday celebration demands my attention."
Kaian nodded. "I'll rest a bit longer, then explore the capital. When will we have another chance like this?"
"Rest in my castle. Tell me if you need anything."
They parted with the childhood greeting—tapping the backs of their hands together, palm to palm, like children playing.
As Kaian disappeared into the castle, Valquiterre remained in the hanging garden, considering what he'd heard.
*"She's trustworthy,"* Kaian had said, though clearly with reservation.
The irony wasn't lost on Valquiterre. His cousin had created a marriage born from his command, transforming his reluctant vassal into something far more complex—a man capable of love, of vulnerability, of trust struggles that mirrored his own.
A monster born from forced marriage.
But perhaps not in the way he'd intended.
---