At first, I waited for Callius with nothing but nervous anticipation—wondering if everything Lamia had told me could possibly be true.
Does that... really happen?
I felt embarrassed. Flustered. Uncertain in a way that was almost innocent.
If that's truly what happens on wedding nights, maybe I should ask to postpone...
But as time stretched on—minutes bleeding into hours—and Callius still hadn't returned, my thoughts began to drift in darker directions.
Memories surfaced uninvited.
My first night with Viscount Pelsus.
All I could recall were terrible things. Pain. Fear. Humiliation.
I shuddered, but I couldn't stop the flood of images.
Painful memories always remain stronger than good ones. Sharper. More vivid. They torment us with their clarity.
What if Callius acts like Viscount Pelsus did?
The thought took root before I could stop it.
Fear amplified my negative thinking, twisting every possibility into something sinister.
What if Callius realizes I'm... difficult? Stuffy? What if he gets angry that I don't know what I'm supposed to do? What if he thinks I'm broken somehow?
The longer I waited, the more "what ifs" crept in—each one worse than the last.
Meanwhile, Callius did not appear.
The fire in the hearth burned cheerfully, crackling and warm. But I felt increasingly strange. Hollow.
Why isn't he coming? Without even sending word? He must know this is our first night together as husband and wife.
It wasn't that I'd been desperately waiting for him—not exactly.
But I had never imagined he would simply... not show up. Without explanation. Without acknowledgment.
On the very first night after moving into the shared bedroom.
I pulled the blanket up to my neck, suddenly cold despite the roaring fire.
The same chill that had plagued me the night before was returning.
I fought it alone—the cold, the fear, the mounting anxiety—completely isolated in that too-large bed.
Eventually, my thoughts spiraled so far into darkness that I began to feel a psychological distance from Callius himself.
He doesn't respect me either. If he doesn't come to bed on our first night together, the castle staff will gossip. They'll create wild stories about what I must have done to offend him.
Since everyone in Ronheim was on Callius's side, the blame would naturally fall on me.
They'll say I must have done something terrible. That he's abandoned me for good reason.
As dawn deepened into the coldest hours before sunrise, my thoughts grew even more irrational.
I thought we were becoming close. But perhaps we're just... business partners. Strictly transactional. Nothing more.
Then a worse thought surfaced:
Maybe he's avoiding me on purpose.
Have I done something wrong? Something terribly offensive? Is he angry that I ordered the collection of vermis mushrooms without consulting him first? Did I overstep? Was I too presumptuous?
The more I sank into that swamp of depression, the more extreme my thoughts became.
I became uncontrollably discouraged.
Fear breeds anxiety. Anxiety breeds self-destruction.
I knew—objectively, rationally—that I was caught in a spiral of irrational thinking.
But rational thought is only possible when the mind is strong.
And mine wasn't. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
"Why am I like this? I could just... ignore it. I could think 'at least I have a comfortable bed.' Why can't I just—"
I curled onto my side, hugging my knees to my chest, and burrowed deeper into the blankets.
What I felt—what consumed me completely—was profound, crushing loneliness.
I wish someone were here. Anyone.
I needed someone who would understand without needing explanation. Someone who would comfort me without being asked.
Someone who could reassure me that I wasn't going mad, that my anxiety was unfounded, that everything would be all right.
I shivered under the blankets for what felt like hours.
Then—soft as a whisper—someone called my name.
"Chloe!"
I threw back the blankets in shock.
"Who—?!"
The door to my room stood slightly ajar—opened just a hand's width.
Through that small gap, a familiar face appeared.
"Karl!"
I couldn't believe it.
It was really him. Actually, physically here.
He had truly followed me all the way to Ronheim.
I scrambled out of the shared bedroom and into the main chamber.
Karl stood just inside the doorway, grinning broadly despite being covered in melting snow.
"How was that? Faster than you expected, wasn't it? Did you wait long?"
I was so surprised—so overwhelmingly relieved—that I ran to him and threw my arms around his small frame.
He was frozen solid. Snow clung to his hair and shoulders, melting into water droplets he hadn't bothered to shake off. His whole body trembled with cold.
"Oh my gods—you really came! You actually came!"
"I left you a note saying I'd follow. Didn't you see it?"
"I saw it! I did—but the road was so rough, I was terrified you wouldn't make it alone. I thought you'd turn back—"
Karl smiled warmly and reached up to pat my head with one ink-stained hand.
"You silly girl. I made you a promise, didn't I? Have you ever seen me break a promise?"
I hugged him tighter and burst into tears.
My Karl. My one and only Karl.
The relief of seeing him again was so profound it felt physical—like something tight and painful loosening in my chest.
He's here. He's really here. I'm not alone anymore.
It was around noon the next day when Callius finally emerged from the sanctuary.
He had lost all track of time—every window in the sacred space had been covered with thick curtains to preserve the sanctity of the rituals once performed there.
When Mainz informed him of the hour, Callius was genuinely shocked.
I've been locked away in here for that long?
His worry for Chloe—his desperate need to find some record of his mother breaking curses—had consumed him so completely that an entire night had passed without notice.
"Did you find the records you were seeking, my lord?"
Callius shook his head heavily.
"There's nothing. No mention of curses anywhere in the sanctuary archives."
"Don't lose heart yet. There are many other places where records about the Saint might be kept."
Mainz offered the comfort automatically—but Callius could read the poorly concealed joy radiating from the older man.
"You don't look like someone offering consolation, Mainz. Something good must have happened."
"Forgive me, my lord. I was trying to contain myself—"
Mainz ducked his head sheepishly.
Callius had emerged from the sanctuary worried and empty-handed, yet Mainz was practically vibrating with excitement.
"What's happened?"
"Your lady wife, my lord! She's done something extraordinary!"
Mainz pulled a carefully wrapped handkerchief from his pocket and unfolded it to reveal several strange mushrooms.
"What are these?"
"Vermis mushrooms, my lord! The Marchioness instructed me yesterday—"
He explained in detail everything Chloe had told him: the mushrooms' value, where to find them, how to identify them.
"Honestly, I didn't entirely believe her. In over sixty years of living in Ronheim, I'd never seen such a thing. I know herbs well—studied them extensively under my father's training—and I was certain these mushrooms didn't exist here."
"But...?"
"But the herbalists went exactly where Her Ladyship described and found them! Many of them, my lord! And according to the Marchioness, these sell for a full gold coin each in the south!"
Callius's eyes widened.
"She suggested we sell these to solve Ronheim's food shortage! She said she'd collected extensive information about them and wanted me to report to you immediately."
She wasn't trying to profit from her knowledge.
She was trying to help Ronheim.
Despite how poorly many of Ronheim's people had treated her.
Callius felt something warm and painful expand in his chest.
"I had no idea the Marchioness cared so deeply about Ronheim's welfare already."
Mainz was so excited he was practically bouncing.
"With the quantity we've already gathered, every citizen of Ronheim could have enough food to last through winter! No one will starve this year, my lord! Not a single person!"
Even in summer, Ronheim's winters were brutally harsh. Snowstorms at dawn. Animals hibernating, making hunting nearly impossible.
Every winter, people died of starvation.
But this year—thanks to Chloe—that wouldn't happen.
Callius shared Mainz's joy for a moment before a horrifying realization struck him.
"Where is my wife now?"
Then, suddenly remembering that the servants had prepared the Marchioness's chambers the day before—
"Did my wife move into her room yesterday?"
"Yes, my lord. She slept in the shared bedroom last night."
"Oh gods."
Callius pressed a hand to his forehead.
I didn't go home. I didn't send word. She must have waited for me all night—on our first night sharing a bedroom—and I never came.
She would think he'd abandoned her deliberately.
That he was avoiding her.
That he didn't care.
The servants will gossip. They'll say I stayed away on purpose. That something must be wrong. That I was disrespecting her.
And Chloe—
Gods, what must she be thinking right now?
After everything she'd done yesterday—thinking of Ronheim's welfare, solving their food crisis, working to help his people—
He had left her alone all night.
On what should have been their first night together as husband and wife.
"I need to find her. Now."
Callius strode from the sanctuary with purpose, leaving Mainz behind.
Please let her understand. Please don't let her think I abandoned her intentionally.
But even as he hurried through the corridors toward the Marchioness's chambers, a sinking feeling settled in his stomach.
After a lifetime of being manipulated and abandoned by those she trusted most...
...how could she possibly believe it was an accident?
To be continued...
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