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Chapter 12
Avalkin was truly a bastard.
The “West Tower” that he assigned as Bellaxina’s bedroom had only one room.
To get to it, you had to climb a winding staircase along a bare stone wall, and at the top, there was a heavy wooden door with a pointed arch. Behind it? A round, completely empty room.
“Is this a prison?”
“It’s a bedroom,” said Ingrid, the head maid.
But even she didn’t sound convinced.
Because a real bedroom usually has, well… a bed.
“We’ll clean the place up first and then bring in furniture. We’ll lay down a carpet, too. Curtains… won’t be necessary.”
Bellaxina silently agreed.
The room didn’t have a large enough window to need curtains. There was just a tiny window facing west, barely the size of two palms, and so high up you’d have to stand on tiptoe to even touch it.
“Windows are usually on the south side.”
“This is the west tower.”
As if that explained everything.
One thing was clear: the tower was meant to lock someone away. No matter how you looked at it, it wasn’t a place fit for someone to live.
“Does Margrave stay angry for a long time?”
“He does,” Ingrid answered. “He shuts down completely—won’t listen to anyone no matter what they say. But once that phase passes, we can try to persuade him. If several people talk to him at once, he often changes his mind.”
“Well… that’s something.”
Bellaxina stood alone in the room, watching the maids clean. Poor women. They were going to suffer the most while she stayed here—carrying food, drinks, even bathwater up that steep tower.
“How long do you think this will take?”
Ingrid paused to think.
“Did the Lord… growl at you?”
“…You could say that.”
“Then at least a week.”
What a petty man.
Bellaxina pouted.
“If you were to write a letter… maybe we could shorten that time.”
“A letter?”
“Yes, like… a written apology.”
Bellaxina’s face twisted in disgust.
“That’s not happening.”
She was firm.
Avalkin didn’t deserve forgiveness—not after planning to make the child of his mistress his heir and discarding his actual bride. That made him a traitor to the Empire and the enemy of all women.
“I’m not writing an apology for something I’m not sorry about.”
“…I understand.”
Yes—Bellaxina, the villainess, had every right to curse and condemn Avalkin, who was clearly even worse than her. Writing an apology? Absolutely out of the question!
“…Hmm?”
But something didn’t add up.
Avalkin had said this before:
‘Your purpose is to sleep with me, get pregnant, and give birth to my heir.’
Which meant he wanted her to bear a child to be his heir.
But didn’t he already have a child he planned to name heir?
Then why would he want another one through her?
“Hmmm? Hmmm…”
Puzzled, Bellaxina crossed her arms and tilted her head back and forth.
“Lady? Are you feeling unwell?”
“Huh? Oh… no, I’m fine.”
Ingrid, noticing her confusion, gently offered a suggestion.
“If writing a letter feels uncomfortable, you don’t have to. But… would you be willing to go along with us?”
“Go along with you? What do you mean?”
“We thought it might help if we all acted like you were suffering terribly. It might make the Lord feel guilty.”
Oh, that?
“Sure. Do as you like. I’m going to sleep.”
Bellaxina agreed easily. She had no idea how this small decision would lead to bigger consequences.
“Very well. Sleep well, then.”
With a secretive smile, Ingrid left the tower with all the maids—promising to return before sunrise.
****
“There’s not even a bell pull or a hand bell…”
Bellaxina sighed. She understood why.
There weren’t any other rooms nearby where a maid could stay.
Even if she rang a bell, no one would hear. And anyway, she was just going to sleep for the next few hours.
Or so she thought.
“…So cold!!”
Bellaxina curled up under the thick fur blanket like a caterpillar.
The cold was unbearable. Not just regular cold—it felt unnatural.
It was warmer when I slept outside in Blackwood!
Of course, that was thanks to Avalkin’s unicorn magic. But since Bellaxina didn’t know that, she started to wonder if Avalkin had placed an ice spell on the tower just to mess with her.
“I can’t die like this…”
Shivering, she slowly got out of bed—still wrapped in the blanket like a cocoon.
There was no fireplace. The only heat source was a small oil lamp.
She had to do something.
Maybe I can pull out all the dresses from the closet and pile them on.
But when she opened the closet—disappointment hit hard.
It was completely empty.
“Oh right… they said they were altering the clothes…”
Bellaxina flopped to the floor, recalling Alicia’s proud words: “Just leave it to me, Lady! By tomorrow, everything will fit you perfectly!”
And then—
“Ow! What the—?!”
She banged her knee on something hard.
Annoyed, she pushed aside the blanket and reached for the object beneath it.
“A… book?”
That was strange.
She’d watched the maids clean the entire room and bring in furniture piece by piece.
There hadn’t been a single book.
Someone must have left it here on purpose.
Bellaxina, sensing something unusual, grabbed the oil lamp and examined the book carefully.
A leather-bound cover with metal corners…
It looked oddly familiar, yet she couldn’t recall where she’d seen it. Something about it made her uneasy.
She opened the book.
“…There’s nothing in it.”
No message. No code. Nothing.
Disappointed, she pouted.
“Hmph. Someone must’ve dropped it by accident.”
Her interest faded. And the cold crept back.
She shivered again.
At least she had the oil lamp. That tiny orange flame was the only comfort.
It was going to be a long night.
****
“The Lady’s going to catch a cold,” said Ingrid firmly.
Avalkin didn’t look up from his paperwork. Clearly still angry.
“Give her a hot bath.”
“My Lord,”
Ingrid used the same tone she had when scolding him as a child.
“You know how far the west tower is. Even if we boil the water, it’ll go cold before we get it up the stairs. And that room has no fireplace, no windows… it’s not a proper place to keep the Lady at all.”
Avalkin looked irritated.
“She deserves that room.”
He finally looked at Ingrid, still visibly upset.
“You heard her—saying she’d rather die than marry me. I’m not putting her in a room with windows.”
Ingrid’s eyes widened in shock.
“Wait… You think she might jump out?”
“She’s done worse.”
Avalkin sighed and dropped his quill into the ink bottle.
“She once jumped out of a moving carriage just to ruin my investment. I can’t let my guard down.”
“…You didn’t assign her to that room just for that reason, did you?”
“What other reason could there be?”
Ingrid opened her mouth but quickly shut it again.
Everyone knew—locking someone in a tower without windows wasn’t protection. It was confinement.
“…She’s going to catch a cold.”
“Send the doctor.”
“A doctor can only help after she’s sick. We have to take care of her before that happens! And besides—she’s from Audiverti!”
Avalkin finally looked up in surprise.
“You already talked about that?”
“It just came up. But think about it. Audiverti is in the south. Even its winters are warmer than summer in Yeshken. You can’t leave her in that tower. She’ll get sick!”
Ingrid placed her hands on her hips, clearly not backing down.
Audiverti’s mountainous, so it’s not exactly warm… and Bellaxina probably spent most of her life in the capital, Avalkin thought.
Still—Yeshken’s climate was harsh, and her body was delicate, even if her personality was iron-hard.
“I’m not planning to keep her there forever. One day, I’ll give her a room worthy of the lady of the main house.”
“When is that, exactly?”
“When she decides marrying me is better than dying.”
Hearing this, Ingrid relaxed and folded her hands calmly in front of her.
Then, with a warm and encouraging smile, she said:
“I’m sure that day will come.”
Avalkin wasn’t great with people.
He was blunt, stubborn, and didn’t know how to compromise.
He followed rules too strictly, didn’t consider circumstances or show much leniency.
But everyone who had stayed by his side for a long time knew one thing:
There was no man more reliable than Avalkin.
“…If the Lady has a good eye for men, that is.”
“….”
She doesn’t, Avalkin thought, feeling a small twinge of doubt.
