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Chapter 15
For a moment, Karia wondered if she had misheard. She had spoken so lightly of something as grave as almost dying. Without even pretending to notice the Grand Duke’s expression, she simply went on with her long story.
“But when I woke up, I found myself lying all alone in the room. If I hadn’t opened my eyes then, if I had simply stopped breathing, I would have ended my life lonely and desolate like that.”
“……”
“And so, I began to wonder. Why must I be here…? If I’m destined to be alone no matter where I am, then at the very least, shouldn’t the place be one where I feel comfortable?”
“—‘Destined to be alone,’ you say.”
“That’s why I intend to divorce Duke Pandeon.”
Karia delivered her intention as neutrally as she could, trying to strip it of personal grievance. Honestly, she had no wish to grovel or pour out pitiful excuses to someone she was seeing again for the first time in years. But for a high-ranking noblewoman to divorce, the emperor’s approval was required.
And since the emperor disliked her—seeing her as a blemish on his beloved younger brother’s honor—if the Grand Duke didn’t intervene, her petition would never even be read.
“So after six years of absence, you’ve returned only to ask for a divorce?”
“Rather than ask…”
The Grand Duke’s face, so impassive before, contorted suddenly. Seeing this, Karia tapped lightly on the sofa’s armrest with her fingers.
How was she supposed to explain? Her expression grew complicated as she slowly leaned back against the sofa. She had no intention of bothering him so much that he had to frown like that.
“I’ll take care of everything myself. Your Grace need only sign the consent papers.”
“—What?”
“Honestly, not once in my life has anything been resolved when I asked you for help, has it?”
When her mother had dragged her from the mountain village where she was born and raised and left her at the capital, Karia had been handed over to the Grand Duke’s castle without explanation.
Her mother had left her in the grand reception hall—bigger than any house she had lived in—and told her to wait quietly. Then she never returned.
From then on, she lived with a father and his family, people who hadn’t even known she existed.
Father, the maids bully me! They bring me cold water to wash with, and leftover scraps to eat! It’s too hard for me!
The castle was filled with people, but most disliked her. Especially the servants, proud of serving the royal family, resented having to attend to her.
She couldn’t fight against adults—especially ones united against her. Naturally, she had no choice but to seek help from her “father,” the one who had allowed her to live in the castle.
Steward. Take care of it.
But the Grand Duke never moved for her sake. When she complained, he simply summoned the steward in front of her and gave an order. For the moment, things would be settled.
But the steward too hated the illegitimate child who was a stain on the house. Soon enough the bullying returned—sharper, more underhanded, as punishment for tattling.
Father, the knight captain’s son called me a lowborn and pulled my hair! I was so scared—please help me!
Steward.
Father, the tutor keeps finding faults and punishing me! Please help me!
Steward.
No matter how often she sought him, nothing ever changed. With no ally in the household, she grew silent, her spirit dark. She gave up on studies, and when there was nothing particular to do, she shut herself in her room, killing time in idleness.
From her father, whom she had trusted, she learned only resignation and how to give up.
“You—what did you say?”
“I haven’t finished discussions with Duke Pandeon yet, but I thought you should know first. Don’t worry—I won’t trouble you. Just… don’t interfere.”
This wasn’t sarcasm—it was sincerity. After all, it wasn’t as if the Grand Duke had profited from this marriage.
At first he had provided a massive dowry of two million gold. Every winter since, he had sent supplies, and lent Duke Pandeon the weight of his family’s name.
And what did he get in return? Nothing but ridding himself of the burden she was.
“Oh, and don’t worry. Even after the divorce, I won’t come back here. I’ll find a quiet residence and live there.”
Surely this was a reasonable proposal, even from his perspective. But scarcely had she finished speaking when the Grand Duke flared with rage.
“You want a divorce for such a paltry reason? Absolutely not! By acknowledging you, I already stained the honor of the imperial family! It cannot happen a second time!”
“The imperial family’s honor? That’s all that matters to you?”
“How would you live alone, with what means?!”
His roar rang out, but soon he fell silent, realizing how carried away he was. Even he looked startled at himself. But contrary to expectation, Karia did not flinch or cower.
Her face was calm, like a still lake. Yet in her eyes burned a fire no smaller than his—perhaps even greater.
“You’re afraid I’ll beg you to take responsibility for me again, aren’t you? Just like the day I came here.”
“You—what are you saying…”
“I won’t hold out my hand again. I swear it. And as for disgrace… bear with it. The first time wasn’t even my fault.”
Her voice was icy as she finished. Then she rose at will. Her footsteps were sharp with anger, but her hand on the door moved with ordinary calm. She didn’t bid the Grand Duke farewell, nor did he stop her.
“—‘Your Grace,’ she called me.”
Yes. That was why he had felt such distance—Karia no longer called him “Father.”
With his dry, knotted hands, he covered his weary face. He had seen no trace of trust in her eyes.
There’s no way that’s all there is to her story.
He had believed she was doing well. She had never liked going out anyway, and Duke Pandeon had said nothing to the contrary. He had sent her with such a large sum—surely she hadn’t been cowed. That’s what he had told himself.
In truth, he had felt relieved. Karia had always caused trouble—whether with the family or the retainers—and seeing her timid and shrinking always made him feel like the guilty one. So when she was no longer before his eyes, his heart was lighter.
“Damn it.”
What on earth had happened to her in the time he spent living at ease? He believed firmly that there must be a reason for a person to change.
He rose and reached for stationery. He hadn’t corresponded often with Duke Pandeon, not wanting to seem meddling. But for the gentle child to change so drastically—something significant must have happened.
“Come to think of it, I didn’t even ask if she was well.”
He recalled how thin she had looked, pressing his brow. But the daughter he wished to ask after was already gone.
“Are you leaving now?”
Karia, fuming after the Grand Duke’s uncooperative stance, came across Alcard in the corridor—disheveled in just a shirt and loose trousers.
In his hand was the well-worn practice sword he had wielded for a lifetime. As he fanned his collar against the heat, she quickly turned her head. She had no business with him.
“It’s too late. You should stay the night.”
“No, thank you. Who here would welcome me?”
“What kind of thing is that to say?”
But even when she turned to walk off mid-conversation, Alcard followed after her easily with his long stride. He moved to block her path with his large frame.
“This is your home. Even if you’re married, that hasn’t changed.”
Had she heard this before, it might have touched her. But as things stood, frustrated and bitter, it didn’t move her heart at all.
Instead, she wondered darkly—did he really not realize that even before her marriage, this castle had been her prison, not her home?
“Still, if you’re set on going, I’ll escort—”
“Karia?”
Alcard’s offer was cut off by a new voice. Both turned toward it, and there stood a middle-aged noblewoman, exuding an aura of frailty.
“Have you been well, Your Grace, Duchess?”
“Yes, it’s been a long time. When did you come? If you had sent word, I would have made ready to welcome you…”
“I only stopped by briefly for some business. I’ll be leaving soon.”
“At this hour?”
The relationship between the Duchess and Karia was difficult to define. When Karia had first entered the castle, the Duchess had been furious—quarreling bitterly with the Grand Duke, even collapsing at times.
Yet she had never once directed her anger at Karia. She did not ignore her or send servants to torment her. But nor did she show care. It was more as if she found Karia daunting.
Karia had felt the same. And so, between them, it had always been like this: if they saw each other from afar, they avoided one another; if close, they exchanged only the barest greeting.
“It’s too late. You should stay the night.”
“No, thank you for your kindness, but I have important matters tomorrow. I must return.”
“…Am I the reason you feel uncomfortable?”
At that question, Karia slowly lifted the head she had been bowing. She could not understand what answer the Duchess hoped to hear.
