The most luxurious shopping district in the capital of Stravants.
At a café in that district, the wives sat chatting, surrounded by items bought through their husbands’ wealth, indulging in extravagant purchases.
Teresia Brigelt, seated among them, was no exception.
Teresia Brigelt. Her maiden name was Teresia von Oppenhausen.
But she had only lived with that name for 18 years.
When she was eighteen, the average marriage age for nobles had begun exceeding twenty-three, yet she had to marry as soon as she reached adulthood.
Had it been a marriage out of love for her husband, she might not have felt so resentful about throwing away the prime of her youth in a foreign land.
But she did resent it.
Teresia and her husband’s marriage had not a shred of love—it was a political arrangement.
Their marriage had been decided long ago, back when the Brigelt family was still the “von” Brigelt family.
In other words, the marriage had been promised when Teresia’s and her husband Joseph’s families were part of the same nation.
Now, however, after their country’s defeat in war, the land had been split apart, and despite speaking the same language and sharing the same heritage, they lived in distinctly separate nations.
Regardless, one thing was certain: Teresia’s married life had been unhappy from the start and continued to be so.
Though soon, in two more years, the time spent in her homeland and in this foreign land would become equal, it made no difference.
She had always been surrounded by people, yet she was maddeningly lonely and isolated.
The crushing loneliness seemed to strangle her more and more, and Teresia could feel herself slowly losing her sanity.
Momentarily lost in thought, Teresia soon turned her attention back to the other wives’ chatter.
She hoped the conversation would drag on just a bit longer, delaying her return home.
“Don’t tell anyone else, but listen to this. You know Helmut von Leppel, the hero of Devarn? It seems he’s having an affair with the Prime Minister’s wife!”
“What?! Really?”
“A mistress, or should I say a lover! Honestly, I was already wondering how that young man, who didn’t even graduate from a military academy, could rise so quickly to the rank of major, let alone how he became hailed as a hero. And now to hear he’s involved with the Prime Minister’s wife! Goodness, isn’t it just scandalous?”
“The Prime Minister’s wife must be out of her mind. Isn’t there at least a twenty-year age gap between them? Ugh, it’s disgusting…”
“Well, the man does have an exceptionally handsome face. Even if the relationship between the Prime Minister and his wife is purely business, she’s never had a lover until now.”
“What do you think, Teresia? It’s an interesting story about your homeland, isn’t it?”
The question was directed at Teresia, who was sipping hot coffee, trying to warm herself despite the radiator in the café.
Interesting? Hardly. It was more unpleasant than anything else.
Setting her cup down, she smiled faintly and opened her mouth.
“News from my homeland is always so bleak that it saddens me… I can’t even remember anything beyond the house I used to live in, so I’m not even sure where my homeland is anymore.”
As Teresia spoke with a hint of cynicism, the other wives let out small laughs.
It had been over ten years since she last set foot in Devarn, her homeland.
Occasionally, when reading books and imagining the houses described within, Teresia would habitually recall the house where she grew up.
She would superimpose descriptions of the protagonist’s room onto her childhood home’s master bedroom.
Aside from those moments, she couldn’t remember much of her homeland at all.
Once the conversation about the new gossip ended, the group returned to their usual mundane chatter.
As always, Teresia responded appropriately, letting the meaningless hours drift by.
***
Today, it seemed as if God had decided to take Teresia’s side, allowing her conversations with the ladies to drag on, making her return home a little later than usual.
Even though the prefix “von” had been omitted from her name, it was merely a reflection of the changing ruling powers. The Brigelt family’s influence remained as strong as ever.
The mansion Teresia entered after stepping out of the carriage was opulently decorated in line with the latest trends.
Indeed, the heating inside the house was much better than in a café or carriage. As soon as she stepped inside, a warm air enveloped her.
Even though Teresia hated winter because of the cold, the warmth of her house didn’t bring her any comfort—it was simply because it was a house, not a home.
Was her husband inside?
She hoped not.
Even though nothing would change if she held her breath while climbing the stairs, Teresia habitually ascended them with her breath completely held.
As expected, it seemed God was not on her side after all.
“You’re quite late, Teresia.”
An overbearing voice.
Teresia, who had been climbing the stairs with her gaze fixed firmly on the floor, slowly lifted her head.
At the top of the stairs, in the second-floor hallway, stood her husband, Joseph Brigelt.
Dressed in a tennis sweater and ivory trousers, he looked relaxed. However, his attitude, as he gestured at Teresia with his chin while keeping his hands in his pockets, was nothing short of arrogant.
“What are you doing? Why aren’t you coming up?”
What a dutiful husband.
Teresia, already physically drained, had desperately hoped not to run into him today. But, as always, nothing went as she wished.
Snapping back to reality from the loathsome truth, Teresia lifted her foot off the floor again in response to Joseph’s words.
Joseph, having spoken, turned and headed to his room. Teresia, as if conditioned, followed him.
Upon entering the room, she closed the door behind her as usual and approached Joseph, who was already seated on the sofa.
“What did you buy today?”
“Just a gift for Mother and a couple of simple dresses…”
“Haah… Teresia.”
That sigh made Teresia flinch involuntarily.
Joseph, lowering his head and pressing his forehead for a moment, stood up and moved close to Teresia, almost invading her personal space.
It was a moment when Teresia instinctively held her breath again.
“Your family, a noble house related to the imperial family, has already been purged. I’m in a precarious position because I opposed the merger of your country and mine. Shouldn’t you, at times like this, present yourself with more dignity?”
“……”
“Stop holing up at home. Wear a different dress every day, go out, smile, and socialize. Got it?”
In short, what he meant was that he couldn’t stand seeing Teresia mourning the deaths of her family and relatives while lamenting her unhappy marriage.
At least, that’s how Teresia interpreted it.
“Fulfill your duties as my wife, Teresia.”
Looking down at her, Joseph reached for Teresia’s left hand and interlaced his fingers with hers.
And it was then that Teresia realized she had forgotten her ring.
“I-I left the ring in my coat pocket. I’ve lost weight, and it kept slipping off… I was afraid I might lose it, so…”
She avoided her husband’s gaze as much as possible while making excuses, but she looked utterly pathetic.
It was true she had lost weight due to her poor appetite recently, but Teresia almost always removed her ring when she went out.
It was because even outside, she felt suffocated by Joseph’s presence.
“Aaah!”
Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through her hand, and Teresia let out a startled cry.
“How many times has it been now?”
It wasn’t the first time she’d been caught removing her ring.
That was why Teresia had hurriedly made up an excuse earlier.
Using his nails, Joseph pressed hard on Teresia’s left ring finger, leaving a mark.
Having once been a soldier before turning to politics, Joseph’s strength was overwhelming, and Teresia, frail and delicate, had no choice but to bite her lip and endure the pain with all her might.
A wound resembling the ring’s shape was etched onto her finger.
Although it hurt enough to bring tears to her eyes, Teresia couldn’t resist.
Joseph was violent.
A man who could casually tear at his wife’s skin without batting an eye wouldn’t hesitate to strike her.
In fact, he would often do so even more casually.
“Do I have to leave a mark like this every time?”
The remnants of the wound fell to the floor as if it were nothing, and Joseph kissed the exposed skin of Teresia’s ring finger.
“I’ll… I’ll be more careful next time. I’m sorry.”
“You’d better be. I don’t care if you can’t bear me children or if you squander money like water.”
With words that could have been romantic in another context, Joseph gazed at her with an enchanting look.
But Teresia knew that all of this was a lie.
As Joseph caressed her cheek, Teresia looked at him with anxious eyes.
Soon, a sharp slap rang through the room.
***
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