"If you simply change your mind, Valquiterre can annul the marriage."
Bianque's words struck me like a physical blow.
*What?*
The world tilted. Everything spun.
I'd known marriage was a contract. But hearing that it could be unmade so casually—that my entire life was that fragile—made breathing difficult.
I staggered.
Valquiterre caught me, steadying my back with practiced ease. His hand was warm, certain.
Then Kaian saw us.
Bianque saw us at the same moment. Her eyes flashed with hostile recognition.
"Let go," Kaian commanded coldly.
She jerked away from him as if burned. "It's annoying anyway. I was already letting go."
Kaian walked toward me, and I felt my heart sink.
The warmth that had characterized him these past days had vanished entirely. His eyes were cold again—filled with something sharp and unpleasant that made me flinch.
*Why? Because of Bianque?*
But the anger didn't seem directed at her. It was directed at me.
He removed his cloak and wrapped it around my shoulders roughly. "Why did you leave the tent?"
"I wanted to see the hunting grounds," I said hesitantly. "Valquiterre suggested—"
I glanced at him, suddenly understanding. If I revealed the King had invited me out, would Kaian see it as disloyalty? Would my position become precarious?
I changed my answer. "It was warm in the daytime. I removed the layers because I was hot."
"I'm taking you back to the tent."
"But I haven't finished looking around—"
Valquiterre stepped forward smoothly. "I'll return to the tent with the Duchess, Duke. Go enjoy the hunting with the nobles."
Kaian's eyes sharpened to something dangerous. "I think it would be better for Your Majesty to spend time with Princess Bianque."
"What? I hate you both!" Bianque shouted, disappearing around the building's edge.
I envied her ability to simply leave.
Kaian studied me with an expression that suggested he found fault in my very existence. "Claudel, return to the tent and wait."
I didn't want conflict over something this trivial. *I can ask about Bianque's words later.*
"All right," I agreed, keeping my voice calm despite the terror beneath my skin.
"If your leg hurts, tell me immediately."
"I understand."
Kaian left without another word.
---
Valquiterre and I walked back slowly. His pace was deliberately measured, almost deliberately slow.
*He's concerned about my injury,* I realized, trying to soften toward him despite the lingering dread.
"It's fine to walk normally," I assured him. "My leg only troubles me if I run or move too fast."
"Thank goodness."
The forest path was quiet, leaves crunching beneath our feet. I needed answers to what Bianque had said.
"Bark, what Princess Bianque mentioned earlier troubles me."
"What is it?"
"She said you could invalidate my marriage to the Duke."
Valquiterre's expression shifted to something almost amused. "Are you hoping for that?"
"No!" The denial came too quickly, too desperately.
"The Duchess is truly honest." He stopped walking and met my eyes. "A marriage ordered by the King can be canceled by royal decree. But I promise you, Claudel—it will never happen unless you wish it."
His blue eyes held absolute certainty. Sky-colored, clear, honest.
*He wouldn't lie about something so important.*
I was naive about court politics, unpracticed in reading masks. But Valquiterre seemed sincere—almost sacred, like a messenger sent by God himself.
"Thank you, Bark."
He extended his hand. "Just thank me with words?"
"I beg your pardon?"
"If you're grateful, shouldn't you give me something in return? A gift?"
*He's like Kaian.* I recalled him asking for a kiss as thanks for the opera.
I bent and retrieved a small acorn from the fallen leaves.
"If you don't mind something simple."
Valquiterre took it from my palm, studying it with genuine interest. "It's just an acorn."
"It appears ordinary," I said seriously. "But there's wood inside. Very strong, very rare."
"Do you tell Kaian such things?"
"Yes. Why shouldn't I?"
Something flickered across his face—darkness, swift and sharp.
"Everything I could give you is already yours," he said quietly. "I shouldn't need to receive things from you in return."
I felt the need to soften his mood. "I don't think it's right to spend my husband's money on expressing gratitude. When I have the chance, I'll make you something with my own hands."
"No." His voice was firm. "I like this better. Better than anything he could buy for you."
He placed the acorn in his pocket, touching it as if it were precious. "I'll plant it in the public gardens. The Duchess's tree."
*My husband's family is truly difficult to manage,* I thought as we continued walking. *Whether it's the King, a Princess, or a Grand Duke—none of them are simple.*
I was grateful the Rowen estate was far from the capital.
---
## Valquiterre's Perspective
Walking away from Claudel toward the hunting grounds, Valquiterre fought to control the chaos in his chest.
How he'd anticipated meeting her again.
When he realized she wasn't the rumored Irena of Valmonde—that this quiet, kind woman with golden eyes was someone entirely different—everything changed.
The wait for her arrival at court had been torture.
*What if he discovers my feelings?*
The question haunted him. She was married by royal decree. Undoing such a union would require careful manipulation, and he hadn't allowed himself to plan that far. He simply existed in the moment of longing, hoping the storm in his chest would find somewhere to go, some release.
*Claudel. Claudel.*
He repeated her name obsessively, knowing he could never say it with the inflection his heart demanded.
The hunting festival was a farce. The capital's plains offered nothing but rabbits and squirrels—a waste of his time. But Kaian had requested dangerous animals, leaving only small prey, and Valquiterre had agreed immediately.
Because if Claudel came to the hunting grounds, she would come.
And seeing her was worth any embarrassment.
When word arrived that Kaian's carriage had come, Valquiterre abandoned propriety and went to greet them directly.
Then he saw something that shattered him.
Kaian—who served no one—was dressing Claudel with his own hands. Adjusting her clothes with intimate familiarity.
And she allowed it as if the most natural thing in existence.
Valquiterre felt something break inside him.
His mind split. Day and night. Light and darkness. Things that worked and things that didn't, divided by strange standards that left no middle ground.
When Grand Duke Luxen asked Kaian what was good about marriage, Valquiterre held his breath.
*Marriage is the grave of life,* the saying went. Hadn't he ordered this marriage to push Kaian into that abyss?
But Kaian answered: "I'm happy."
Happiness.
Valquiterre had never felt such a word. Not even at his coronation. Not even when holding absolute power.
---
## The Feast
The outdoor feast was in full swing. Nobles sat at long tables, bowing as Valquiterre approached.
His glass was filled with red wine.
Among the seated nobles, Kaian's hat caught Valquiterre's eye—the one Claudel had made for him. It sat proudly at the head table, visible to all.
A gift from her hands. A symbol of her devotion.
Claudel looked up at her husband with such tender affection. Her golden eyes sparkled like treasures.
Valquiterre raised his glass high.
"I'm grateful you've gathered to celebrate my birth," he announced, his voice steady despite the chaos within. "I'll award a gold coin to whoever catches the most rabbits."
The nobles cheered.
"I pray His Majesty the King lives eternally!" someone called.
Valquiterre raised his glass higher.
And in one smooth motion, he poured the entire contents over Kaian's hat.
The red wine soaked through the carefully crafted fabric—the gift she'd made with her own hands.
The table fell silent.
Claudel's face went pale.
Kaian's expression hardened into something terrifying.
Valquiterre smiled, utterly composed, as though he'd simply had an accident.
"How clumsy of me," he said coolly. "Do have it cleaned, Duke. I'll reimburse you for any damages."
But his eyes held something darker—a message only Kaian could read.
*She's mine now. In every way that matters.*
---