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Chapter 20
“Your Grace, are you all right? Can you see me clearly?”
A concerned voice of an unfamiliar man reached him.
Davit blinked several times. Through his blurred vision, the face of a middle-aged man he had never seen before came into focus.
“Who… are you?”
He felt a warm towel touch his temple. The man in front of him was carefully wiping his face.
“I’m a palace physician stationed at the Governor’s office. I was called here.”
From behind the man, a clear, high-pitched female voice spoke.
Red hair like autumn leaves. It was Grand Duchess Alisa Lasantia, the bride Davit had received yesterday.
Davit rolled his eyes and looked around.
The room he was lying in was not the consort’s bedroom from last night. It was smaller but brighter, with large windows facing south.
“…Where is this?”
“This is the guest chamber in Princess Rizzelotte’s villa. There were too many guests attending the wedding, so this was the only available room in the palace.”
“Rizzelotte?”
“The daughter of the Crown Prince. Sir Chaves, now that His Grace has safely awakened, please withdraw.”
The Grand Duchess dismissed the palace physician, who bowed and left.
Now it was just the two of them.
Rustle.
Davit propped himself up.
“Why am I here?”
“Your Grace, don’t you remember? You asked to be taken out of the consort’s chamber.”
“I… did I?”
Davit vaguely recalled the events of last night.
Watching the Grand Duchess walk toward the bed, he suddenly felt short of breath. Without reason, abruptly, as if he might die, he felt suffocated.
He reflected carefully on why he had felt that way.
It must have been unconsciously triggered when he saw the bed.
On that bed, his mother had given birth to his sister and had slowly bled out across the white sheets.
Even when his mother was alive, seeing that bed made his chest ache.
Every night when the king visited and left the next morning, his mother would quietly cry on that bed.
Young Davit had fretted alone, wondering why his father made his mother cry that way.
When he couldn’t sleep and wandered near the door, why did his mother sob in pain? Why didn’t his father, sleeping in the same room, comfort her?
He had heard his father loved his mother deeply.
So why did he torment her so cruelly?
Davit’s childhood was filled with such questions—until his mother died and he was left alone to live there for another ten years.
“Your Grace, I know it’s forward, but may I ask you something?”
“…Yes, Grand Duchess.”
The Grand Duchess’ question brought Davit back to reality.
“About the consort your mother used to live with.”
“Yes.”
“Were you also confined there?”
“….”
“From your reaction, I suppose so. Usually, princes have separate quarters from childhood, so I thought it wouldn’t be the case.”
“Why are you asking that all of a sudden?”
Davit could not answer directly.
The Dvorca royal family typically gave princes separate quarters, but that rule had not applied to him.
“No matter how much I asked around, I could barely find any information about you. People just knew a prince like you existed, nothing more.”
The Grand Duchess shrugged lightly.
It was an open secret in the Yorka palace that Davit had been left alone in the consort’s quarters. Yet no one considered him “imprisoned.” They simply didn’t pay attention.
No one looked for the prince, so they assumed he just lived where he always had.
After his mother’s death, his existence in the palace was completely forgotten. A prince with no noble backing, with the blood of a mere dancer, far from the line of succession.
Even his father, the king, ignored him, because he resembled a deceased lover too closely.
Davit smirked inwardly.
‘If there were a ghost in the palace, it would probably be me.’
He had taken solace in attending private lessons three times a week to learn about the outside world, and in the palace courtyards observing weeds and insects, playing in the dirt alone.
He was certain that without the nanny Olenka and the maids to talk to, he would have had no socialization at all.
He had never seen a peer until he was sixteen.
While Davit was lost in these memories, the Grand Duchess sat by his bedside.
She took the water towel from the palace physician and wiped his face again, likely due to the cold sweat still on him.
“Some of my fellow cadets in military school had claustrophobia. On training trips to remote areas, they couldn’t stand being in dark, narrow barracks, so we’d just let them sleep outside.”
“….”
Despite her direct way of speaking, her touch was careful and gentle.
“In the cold winter, they had no choice but to stay inside the barracks. They showed symptoms very similar to yours. Feeling trapped caused panic attacks, sudden shortness of breath, cold sweats.”
“I don’t have claustrophobia.”
He disliked the feeling of being confined, but this was the first time he had felt unbearable fear.
“…Ah, I’m rambling unnecessarily. Anyway, shall I ask the Crown Prince to change your quarters? You seem to have unpleasant memories of the consort’s quarters.”
Swish, swish.
The Grand Duchess rubbed along his jawline with the water towel.
“I just hate the palace itself,” Davit replied impulsively.
The moment he spoke, he felt a twinge of embarrassment.
He hadn’t expected the thought he’d been holding back to come out so bluntly.
The Grand Duchess’ touch was unexpectedly comforting, and he seemed to have unconsciously expressed his emotions.
“What? You hate the palace itself?”
“….”
Davit turned his head sharply.
It might sound strange that he hated the palace where he was born and raised.
He shouldn’t have said it aloud, but the war had given him something he had wanted: freedom from the narrow world of the consort’s quarters.
He also disliked the palace itself surrounding the consorts.
If his childhood dream was ‘escape the palace,’ would she even believe him?
Knock, knock, knock.
Someone had come to the room.
“Who is it?”
Alisa asked the person outside the door.
“Your Grace’s guards and maids. May we come in?”
“Let them in.”
Davit nodded, and the Grand Duchess answered for him.
The knight Kirill and maid Polina entered one by one. They had followed Davit from Paddon Island.
Kirill had been assigned by Count Bogdan, the lord of the island, and Polina by Queen Elizabeth.
Neither wanted to leave their home. Even without words, their reluctance was clear in their expressions and movements. Staying with Grand Duke Davit at the colonial governor’s office was risky for them.
“Your Grace, how is your body? Did you feel unwell last night?”
Polina asked cautiously.
Davit was wary of her, as she was a close aide of the queen and would report his every move.
“I’m fine. Just a mild fever.”
“Oh, that’s a relief. But Your Grace, please speak more politely to the staff. They might take offense otherwise.”
Kirill scolded from the side.
He seemed to have adapted quickly to the reversed hierarchy, having been a senior knight back on Paddon Island.
Davit smiled at both of them as brightly as possible, acknowledging their instructions.
“Yes. Only two more days until my wedding ceremonies. Today, the banquet, and tomorrow, the parade.”
“Yes, Your Grace. Just two more days to endure.”
“After everything, both of you will return to Paddon Island.”
“Eh? What do you mean?”
Polina’s eyes widened, though a smile of relief appeared on her face.
“Pack up and leave. Tell the queen it’s by my order.”
Davit’s command was gentle yet firm.
He was fine with fading away day by day in the palace, alone.
“Did you collapse in your bedroom last night?”
“….”
“Hah, how can you fail at even being a man? If you can’t conduct yourself properly, not only is your own safety at risk, but you bring shame to our Dvorca royal family. You embarrass me to the point I cannot lift my head.”
The day after the wedding, just before the grand banquet at Barbica Hall, Davit listened to Queen Elizabeth’s scolding in a locked antechamber.
News that the Grand Duke could not consummate the wedding due to health reached the queen quickly, probably through Polina.
“My apologies, Your Majesty.”
Davit lowered his eyes calmly.
“You’ve never been in society before, so heed this carefully: if you show even a hint of weakness, you will be torn apart in an instant.”
“Yes.”
“Do not even trust your wife. No one will embrace your weaknesses, born of lowly origin. Do you think the Grand Duchess would even glance at you if all you had was a shiny exterior?”
“….”
The queen’s verbal assault continued.
Davit resolved not to listen, staring downward to appear compliant, hiding the emptiness in his eyes.
“A woman like the Grand Duchess, with wealth and maturity, will never love a man as unrefined and uneducated as you. She once had quite a history with men; one man’s failure in bed will not trouble her.”
“….”
“Listen carefully, Davit. You have only one path to success.”
He was not curious.
He did not want to take a single step.
The queen’s version of success held no appeal.
“By giving heirs with the Grand Duchess, you inherit the dukedom. Only then will you enjoy power. Your title of Grand Duke means nothing, but your wife’s dukedom is substantial.”
Davit’s patience reached its limit.
His neatly set mouth curved into a cold line.
“If Your Majesty wanted to make her grandchild the Duke of Lasantia, why not send Prince Bruno instead of me to this marriage?”
“…Ahem.”
The queen cleared her throat, clearly caught off guard.
“I understand, Your Majesty. You wouldn’t want to send your precious youngest prince into the lair of an enemy crown prince. This fragile dukedom could have its neck severed at a word from the crown prince before even producing heirs.”
Davit could not suppress his defiance.
The queen smiled sharply, noticing his clenched fists.
“Ahahaha, yes, Davit, you are right. So to protect yourself, you must avoid displeasing your noble wife. When I am gone, she will be your only support.”
“….”
“Ensure the Grand Duchess does not wander outside. Even if you must use your body to win her heart. And beware the cuckoo.”
Cuckoo.
A bird that lays its eggs in another’s nest.
Davit clenched the side of his ceremonial jacket.
After all, it was his own suggestion last night to the Grand Duchess—what if the heirs came from another man?
Yet why did it feel so unpleasant? The same idea expressed through the queen carried disdain.
Knock, knock, knock.
“Come in.”
Davit was glad, regardless of the visitor.
He hated being alone with the queen; he would have preferred being trapped in the consort’s quarters again.
The door opened to reveal his wife, Grand Duchess Alisa.
Her red hair and deep green dress complemented each other. Smooth silk, with dense emeralds along the neckline. Elegant yet dignified.
The shoulder line, sleeves, and waist ribbon were far more intricate than the queen’s green dress.
“Oh, Your Majesty, you are here as well?”
The Grand Duchess greeted the queen warmly.
Davit noticed the queen flinch slightly.
The queen seemed surprised by the matching dress color, but quickly bowed to her daughter-in-law.
“Your Grace, Grand Duchess.”
“You’ve arrived just in time. I brought gifts for my husband. Children, place them here.”
The Grand Duchess indicated a table in the middle of the antechamber.
Maids brought in silk-wrapped boxes.
Five thick boxes, roughly the size of a large Bible.
“What is all this, Grand Duchess?”
“What else? Jewels from a woman hopelessly in love with her husband.”
The Grand Duchess answered, feigning playful innocence, her words dripping with mock flirtation.
