"Hannah, have you ever killed someone?"
Hannah's brown eyes widened at the sudden question. When the village had burned down and she'd lost her family, she'd vaguely blamed the world and God, but she'd never thought of hurting anyone.
Oh, except for the Duke of Vermont. When Hannah had discovered that Claudel—sick with consumption—was being married off to the enemy's family, she'd been so enraged she'd said, "I will kill you." But she'd known she could never actually put a sword to the Duke of Vermont.
Wouldn't strangling someone with her hands until they were nearly dead be satisfying enough?
"Probably not. Then have you ever thought about killing someone?"
"Why are you asking that? About killing people..."
Madame Cronach sighed, looking at the stuttering, bewildered woman.
"The Duke of Temnes is different from ordinary people. From the beginning, he was raised to rule over others."
"If I were to place thousands or tens of thousands of lives in your hands and ask you to decide whether to kill them or save them, could you do it?"
"..."
"He is someone who can make that decision."
A person who could decide whether to wage war—killing tens of thousands of Vermonters to protect tens of thousands of Temnes citizens. He was a noble decision-maker who could consign someone's soul to death for honor and duty as Lord and head of a duchy.
"Claudel is in love with the Duke of Temnes."
"And my Lord cares deeply for Claudel."
"My presence will be a burden to her."
"That can't be true. How happy she would be—"
Madame Cronach shook her head.
"I can't ruin what Claudel values most right now without even telling her I'm her mother."
There was definitely something extraordinary about Kaian. He planned one or two moves ahead, prepared in advance or set traps. But the reason he did so remained unknown to those who carried out his orders. All you could do was realize later and think, *Oh, this is what it was about.*
It was clear he alone could see the bigger picture that others couldn't perceive.
"If Claudel knew I was her mother, she'd want to meet me. I can't even leave the capital."
"Aunt Leonie..."
"He will definitely notice. After that, things like Claudel's origins will come under scrutiny. A Princess of Vermont wasn't suitable for this marriage in the first place."
The fact that Claudel had been able to claim her place in the family as the Duke of Vermont's daughter was based solely on being an orphan. Leonie believed that if either Evan or she were alive, Claudel would no longer have the status of "Princess of Vermont," and the marriage itself would be jeopardized.
Even then, would Claudel treat her warmly as "her mother"? It was common for children who'd been raised all this time to stop listening to their parents' advice once they were grown.
She wanted to watch Claudel be happy from afar rather than spend her whole life listening to resentment and living in shame.
"You're supporting Claudel."
Madame Cronach held Hannah's hand as she stood torn between options.
"I heard you're encouraging her to confess her feelings?"
"I am. I suppose I interfered unnecessarily."
In Hannah's view, Claudel was ignoring her honest feelings. She wanted Claudel to be happy and accept the love being offered to her with an open heart.
It was heartbreaking to see her anxious—no matter what Kaian did, she denied it, saying it wasn't like that, wondering when this good fortune might end.
Claudel and Hannah were children who deserved to have been raised with their parents' attention and affection. Having grown up without receiving the warmth they should have had, they showed that lack. It wasn't anyone's business whenever Claudel displayed such signs. Hannah was no different from Claudel.
So she simply wished Claudel well—that things could go even better for her. Her heart felt heavy because she felt her words had caused separation between mother and daughter.
"Thank you for being by Claudel's side."
Madame Cronach hugged Hannah and comforted her as she stood blankly, seemingly regretful.
"We need more time. There's no need to rush. If things go well, there will be opportunities."
"Yes."
Hannah felt as if Madame Cronach had said that to ease her own guilt. Somehow she sensed the day would never come when Leonie would step forward and declare herself Claudel's mother.
Madame Cronach was right. If Claudel's status became unstable, the problem could escalate one way or another.
She'd been emotionally pushing Madame Cronach to come forward and reveal the truth, but why did everything she did turn out like this? Both for Claudel and for Aunt Leonie.
In the end, Hannah nodded slightly and hugged Madame Cronach. After a while, she returned to the royal castle, carefully holding the dried tea Madame Cronach had given her.
Every time the carriage shook, the plump bundle in her arms rustled and gave off a lovely scent.
"It smells like Plogne."
The scent from the tea bundle wrapped in stiff paper evoked longing. Hannah shook her head gently to clear her sad expression.
---
The next day was clear, even for winter weather.
I stuck my hand out the carriage window. My fingertips quickly grew cold from the wind blowing against my palm, but it was a feeling that vaguely stirred my heart.
Winter in the capital was a winter worth enjoying. Well, if there was a winter not worth enjoying, it existed elsewhere.
*If it's just this much cold, I can live really well.*
The winter at Valmonde's estate was nothing compared to this. Winter in the capital lasted three months at most. For Valmonde, the ground was frozen for half a year—much longer—and the cold that arrived early gradually increased in intensity until frost formed around the edges of my nostrils when I breathed.
Many people in the Valmonde estate had never seen flowers in full bloom in their lives. Most flowers and plants grow with the sun's help. It was difficult to see them in the tundra, where at best there was only moss or shrubland.
When territory residents moved to another territory, they always needed a travel permit. Since a territory's size depended on its population, people were essentially trapped in Vermont—sensitive as it was about pioneering barren land. Valmonde was very insular.
Even Irena, the most revered woman in the estate except the Duchess of Vermont, said the first trip she'd been allowed to make in her life was to Castle Rowan to see her married sister.
I diligently took in the sights unfolding outside the carriage. Strangely enough, every time I saw or heard something pleasant, I thought of the people living in Valmonde—though I had no desire to return because all I had there were wounds.
Those were the people who'd been starving, stretching out their hands like dry branches, begging me to do something.
I hadn't cried much after my parents died. My eyes would feel sore as if I might cry, or tiny teardrops would form, but I'd never cried so hard that tears actually flowed. Maybe it was because after my parents passed away, I'd shed all the tears I would ever shed. That's what I'd thought.
Perhaps I'd loved the people of Valmonde very much. When I thought of them, I felt like crying.
When I'd gone to the village to distribute aid, there'd been a lifeless, skeletal child. Her mother had wrapped the baby in swaddling clothes—as small and light as a straw doll—and presented her to me.
*"A blessing for the child..."*
Even if you gave away all the jewels or money you possessed, there was no way to prevent starvation. It was Temnes' fault for blocking grain exports—creating a stranglehold over the mountain passes.
I'd wanted to offer myself to help these people avoid hunger. The Duke of Vermont had said he'd done it because he'd thought I would die of consumption. But in truth, I would have headed to Temnes even without consumption if it could have solved the food problem.
*It would be wonderful if everyone could come and enjoy this beautiful season freely.*
It wasn't their fault they'd been born as if trapped in an isolated land. The Valmonde estate didn't pay estate taxes to the Oberon royal family, so it was practically an independent country. That made travel to and from the capital even more difficult.
While I was lost in thought, we left the capital and arrived at our destination after an hour-long carriage ride. In the open grassland with no obstructions on any side, I saw several buildings constructed with stacked logs resembling a mountain ranger's cabin.
Holderley Round was famous as a royal hunting ground. There were several reasons for its fame. First, it had often appeared as the backdrop for royal scandals in the past. Second, it had hot springs effective for skin conditions and neuralgia.
The interior of the three-story log cabin—which appeared roughly built—was extremely luxurious. It was a building constructed solely to create the feeling that the King was hunting in the capital area, which was otherwise a plain region with no mountains.
It was even said that one King several generations past had enjoyed the hot springs so much that court ministers had carried official documents by carriage, traveling back and forth between the castle and Holderley Round several times daily.
Kaian looked at the pitched tents and bustling scene outside.
"Nothing has changed here."
"Did you come here often?"
"When my mother was alive."
The death of the previous Duke and Duchess of Temnes had been a turning point in Kaian's life. Before that, he'd been the heir. After, he'd been the patriarch.
I didn't ask any more questions. Instead, I decided to change the subject lightly.
"Then it must have been a long time since you visited."
"That's right. Wait a moment—are you planning to walk around wearing just that?"
Kaian frowned when he saw me quickly stepping out of the carriage.
"Can't I?"
I wore a thin woolen dress that reached my ankles to make walking easier, double-lined inside and very warm.
"Didn't you bring a coat or cloak?"
"I have them, but it's not that cold."
"Put it on."
Kaian lifted the garment with a stern expression.
"It's not cold."
"That must be an illusion."
He concluded that the cold I felt was a "misunderstanding" and dressed me in his coat, then wrapped me in a cloak over it.
"It's hard to move when I wear all this."
"What do you need to move for? You're not going to hunt."
With a strict attitude, he pulled the cloak's strings and tied them in a bow shape.
"Consumption also has aftereffects. If you catch a cold, will I have to go hunt crocodiles again?"
I fell silent at his severe tone.
"Your neck is exposed."
"This is enough."
"A hood—isn't there a hood or something?"
Madame Marcel, watching from the carriage beside me, quickly offered a covering that went from my head to my shoulders. Hannah standing next to her holding a scarf was a bonus.
"Hmm, I wonder if this is sufficient."
*...I think I'll be hot.*
I was racking my brain about how I could remove the hood and cloak when—
"You said 'let me see'—it's truly as if I can't see you at all."
His Majesty the King's voice rang out like salvation.
"Your Majesty."
"Your Majesty."
Everyone in the vicinity simultaneously bowed their heads to Valquiterre.
"It's been quite a while since I heard news of the Duke's arrival. You made me wait while getting dressed."
"My wife is delicate, so I couldn't help—"
Valquiterre cut off Kaian's words.
"You seem overprotective."
---