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Chapter 3
Viktor’s mother, who had once been confined to a psychiatric ward, now lived in a monastery.
She had been the king’s beloved eldest daughter, raised in affection and luxury, until one night at a party changed everything. After spending a single night with a young nobleman, she became pregnant with his child.
At the time, she had been engaged to the crown prince of the neighboring kingdom, Vestina.
The engagement was broken, public outrage erupted, and she was cast out of the royal family.
She blamed the son born from that one night for her fall from grace.
Viktor Dumfelt had grown up not receiving a mother’s love, but instead bearing the resentment of a woman who constantly told him, “Because of you, I was expelled from the royal family.”
For him, being acknowledged as royalty was the only goal in life.
He would do anything for his honor. He never hesitated to risk his life exterminating pirates.
As planned, Viktor’s popularity throughout Salantie soared, and the Irene royal family finally began considering recognizing Viktor Dumfelt—the king’s grandson—as royalty.
At last, an investigation into whether he possessed any moral flaws had begun.
Naturally, one of the people questioned was Scarlett Dumfelt, Viktor’s wife.
Before the investigation, Viktor had warned her not to say anything. Scarlett had intended to do exactly that.
And yet, she had apparently revealed every one of Viktor’s faults.
The fact that she remembered absolutely none of it was driving her insane.
Was there truly something wrong with her head?
The thought terrified her even more when Viktor spoke of sending her to a monastery.
Scarlett said fearfully,
“No. Don’t send me to a monastery.”
It was probably something he had said in anger.
Even knowing that, the refusal that came from Scarlett’s lips was firm.
After acting dazed this whole time, her sudden decisiveness made Viktor stare at her in disbelief before turning around and leaving the room with his subordinates.
Once he was gone, Scarlett gathered the last of her strength and spread the newspaper across the table after pushing aside the liquor bottles.
The front page was filled with reasons why Viktor should not become part of the royal family.
And on the next page was her signed statement.
It was her handwriting.
Her signature.
The moment she confirmed it with her own eyes, Scarlett collapsed to the floor beside the table.
“This can’t be…”
Because of her words, Viktor would no longer be recognized as royalty.
Worse, he would be branded a cold-blooded man who personally locked his own mother in a psychiatric ward.
That would leave a massive stain on the honor Viktor Dumfelt valued more than his own life.
Even with evidence laid before her, she could not remember participating in the interrogation at all.
It was maddening.
The more pressure she felt, the harder it became to breathe, and the darker her mind grew.
Even the faint memory of drinking tea eventually vanished from her head as time passed.
That evening, after returning to the estate, the only thing Scarlett could do whenever she saw her husband was apologize.
Viktor never answered her apologies.
Nor did he mention the incident again.
Instead, the one constantly criticizing her was her father-in-law, Gregory Dumfelt.
Claiming that she had ruined his son’s future, he tormented her relentlessly, to the point where Scarlett collapsed several times from stress-induced seizures.
Fortunately, a luncheon that had already been scheduled for the year-end celebrations kept her occupied.
It had originally been planned to celebrate Viktor becoming royalty, yet he did not cancel it.
On the day of the luncheon, Scarlett dressed herself elegantly in a red velvet gown and stepped out of the dressing room—
Only for one of Viktor’s subordinates, Fallon Redford, to block her path.
“There’s a luncheon today, so you cannot leave.”
Scarlett tilted her head.
“I cannot leave?”
“The captain does not wish for you to attend the luncheon.”
The Rubid, Viktor’s ship, was crewed only by elites among elites. Every officer was tall, academically exceptional, and born from distinguished families.
Among them, Fallon was known as the second strongest fighter after Viktor himself.
Standing stiffly with his hands behind his back and blocking the door, Fallon spoke bluntly.
Scarlett paused before slowly asking,
“Viktor doesn’t want me appearing in front of others?”
Fallon hesitated briefly before answering.
“Yes.”
“Because he’s ashamed of me?”
“…Yes.”
Fallon frowned slightly, uncomfortable with the answer, before smoothing his expression.
Scarlett silently looked at him, then nodded.
“I understand.”
“Yes, then…”
Fallon bowed and moved to close the door, but stopped.
Scarlett was walking toward a chair near the dressing room window with a bitter expression.
Fallon deliberately hardened his face and added,
“Please stay away from the windows as well. Today, it is as though you are not here.”
Scarlett said nothing, yet Fallon still felt guilty enough to avert his eyes.
“I’ll move the chair for you.”
“…Thank you.”
He immediately moved the chair and small table away from the window and against the wall.
Scarlett walked over, sat down, and rested her upper body against the table.
Seeing her small frame slumped there, Fallon became uneasy. He removed his jacket and draped it over her shoulders.
Then, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, he prepared to leave.
“I’ll inform you when the luncheon is over.”
Scarlett spoke quietly.
“Tell Viktor… I’m sorry.”
“Yes, madam.”
Fallon bowed and left.
After he was gone, Scarlett remained collapsed against her arms for a while before lifting her head and muttering absentmindedly:
“That bastard.”
Then she hunched over and began laughing weakly like someone losing their mind.
She couldn’t believe she felt resentment toward Viktor.
Her betrayal was already accepted as fact.
Not remembering it was pathetic enough, but hating her husband simply because he no longer trusted her felt so shallow that she despised herself for it.
She forced her exhausted body up and walked toward the mirror.
Though she had only just turned twenty, even in her drained state her face still looked vibrant with youth.
Rose-colored cheeks and lips, pale golden hair—it brought a touch of spring to the middle of winter.
She stared blankly at herself before reaching up to remove the decorative piece holding her braided crown hairstyle together.
As she slowly worked at it, the ticking of a clock irritated her enough that she looked up.
“The clock sounds strange.”
The second hand occasionally stopped midway.
As if entranced, she tried lifting the ornate chair Fallon had moved earlier, only to grimace from its weight.
“What? How did he lift this with one hand?”
Eventually, she pushed the chair beneath the clock.
Standing on it, she reached to remove the gilded wall clock—
Then suddenly froze as her father’s voice surfaced in her mind.
“When moving a grandfather clock, remove the pendulum first, Scarlett. Otherwise the internal parts get damaged.”
Startled, Scarlett carefully removed the pendulum first.
“I’m remembering the strangest things.”
Murmuring to herself, she carried the clock back to the table Fallon had moved.
She laid it upside down on the table, and even before opening it, the internal structure appeared vaguely in her mind.
“…What is happening to me?”
Scarlett muttered repeatedly, feeling frightened now rather than merely confused.
“Did I suddenly become a genius? Or am I just insane?”
The Crimson family’s clocks embodied the pinnacle of Salantie’s technology.
But after her parents died young, her uncle Evil Crimson—who swallowed the family fortune under the excuse of raising the children—never taught her even the most basic techniques.
Until now, Scarlett had possessed no knowledge of clocks whatsoever.
“Remove the debris caught between the gears.”
Yet now she could vividly remember her father explaining things while balancing tiny invisible parts on the first joint of his finger.
She could remember her mother laughing brightly while watching her husband before returning to assembling countless clock parts.
Even the blueprints covering the walls of their workshop appeared in her mind like photographs.
As Scarlett stared at the clock, Candice—the maid who had entered worried about her—approached with surprise.
“Why did you bring the clock down, madam?”
“I’m going to try fixing it.”
Candice tilted her head.
“That clock’s been inaccurate lately. But… you’re going to repair it yourself?”
“I’m from the Crimson family, aren’t I? Let me at least try.”
“Oh my. Did you learn clock repair? I’ll bring your toolbox.”
Since Scarlett was the legitimate daughter of the famous Crimson clockmaking family, Candice found nothing strange about it.
She quickly brought over the toolbox Scarlett had brought with her when she married into the Dumfelt family.
This toolbox had belonged to Scarlett’s mother.
Her father’s tools had gone to Isaac.
Those two toolboxes were the entirety of the siblings’ inheritance.
Pulling the chair close, Scarlett opened the toolbox.
Then, with the ease of someone who handled clocks every day, she selected a tool and removed the back panel.
As she began dismantling the clock piece by piece, not only Candice but even the other maids who had entered watched anxiously, wondering whether she would truly be able to reassemble it.
Everything in the Dumfelt household was precious.
And Gregory Dumfelt—who had lately delighted in tormenting his daughter-in-law—would undoubtedly explode with rage if she ruined the clock.
Scarlett, having suffered greatly during her childhood, never took servants’ labor for granted.
That was why, despite some servants disliking the disturbances surrounding her, many others pitied her deeply.
Candice belonged to the latter group.
Watching Scarlett repair the clock with a calm expression, she looked relieved.
She was simply glad Scarlett had found something else to focus on instead of sinking deeper into despair.
Scarlett used a blower to remove even the tiniest speck of dust from the components.
Then she carefully reassembled the dismantled parts with precise fingers, perfectly balancing each piece.
As the gears clicked together and began turning smoothly, the maids who had initially worried slowly edged closer to the table, fascinated by the sight.
