You are at the End of the Downfall

In the end, she was imprisoned by Peon’s hands. If they truly had precious childhood memories, a person couldn’t do that. He should have listened to her protests at least once.

“Is this fun for you?”

She had forgotten the years when she endearingly called him “oppa.” That manner of speech was less familiar than how she addressed the Grand Duke of Lusenford, thoroughly excluding her. Her way of speaking seemed all jumbled.

“If my good intentions have made you uncomfortable…”

“I’m not worth you bringing things directly, just worth sending through others?”

“Kaela.”

There were times she was terrified of earning his hatred, desperately wanting to appear better, swallowing down the words she longed to say. Those times were all too frequent.

“You always send things to me through others, never bringing them directly.”

Perhaps from holding it in for too long, the words she wanted to say came pouring out uncontrollably. No, she felt she couldn’t bear it if she didn’t say them.

“One only sends things through others to someone they wish to avoid directly encountering. Since we were at the same event, if Your Highness the Grand Duke disliked coming to me directly, you shouldn’t have sent anything at all.”

What distance was there for him to send a knight all this way to where she was?

She had been pleased receiving the little things Sir Renard brought in Lusenford, only realizing later–Peon was just perfunctorily playing the husband’s role, avoiding even looking at his unwanted Duchess.

Peon had treated her that way even before their marriage.

“You always did that to me. Do I really look that pitiful and laughable?”

Now shivering to the point of chattering teeth, with a pounding headache, Kaela struggled to look Peon squarely in the eye through her blurring vision.

Though she knew he wasn’t precisely the husband who killed her, it still pained her senselessly that even before marriage, he had been consistently aloof. Her jumbled memories and soaring fever numbed her rationality.

“Don’t pity me. I’m not worth His Highness the Grand Duke’s pity!”

Out of pity, though undoubtedly his wife, she had been treated like a beggar pathetically soliciting affection from outside those doors.

After venting her outburst at Peon, unchanged from before her death until now, Kaela immediately turned away. The Ostein knights and maids who had been standing apart hurriedly followed, struggling to hide their shock.

Never once her husband’s equal, the noble Princess Ostein, Kaela, dragged her exhausted, aching body as she walked away, her vision swimming from the intense fever.

Had she felt dejected seeing the familiar sight of Peon ultimately doting on Beatrice after seeming to draw a line for her sake, having spared Kaela’s father? She still couldn’t compose herself, finding her own ridiculousness bitterly painful, the back of her eyes stinging hotly.

“Miss.”

“I’m going home.”

With her surroundings spinning, she had no choice but to return home now. She forced herself to keep walking.

This marked the complete end between her and Peon at the age of twenty-one. The oppa who once greeted her with bright smiles had turned solemn, leaving nothing more to say. That was the extent of their relationship–the one-sided bond Kaela desperately clung to despite its many regrets.

“No, that’s not…”

A different voice calling out to her rang louder than the protesting knight.

“…Ela, Princess! Princess Ostein!”

It was unmistakably Peon’s voice, recognizable even from afar.

Did he really want to address this? Biting her lip, Kaela stopped, intending to confront him once more. But before she could turn towards him, a heavy, warm cloak enveloped her chilled shoulders first, its thick warmth wrapping her entirely.

“Princess.”

A troubled, anguished expression creased the chiseled, refined features he had inherited from the renowned beauty, the Empress.

“I have been discourteous.”

The man who had always ignored Kaela’s tears and reproaches, as if she didn’t exist, now seemed at a loss. Receiving his apology for the first time, Kaela was dumbstruck. Even his manner of speaking had changed.

“I’m sorry. I never intended to hurt Your Highness’s feelings.”

His remorseful expression was clearly sincere. To receive Peon’s apology, to have his attitude change so greatly–she belatedly realized she should have confronted him sooner.

What if, instead of silently waiting in Lusenford, she had protested, vented her anger at Peon? No, by then she had already usurped Beatrice’s coveted position as Grand Duchess, so venting may have seemed audacious instead?

To Kaela entertaining such thoughts, Peon respectfully, sincerely apologized.

“I tried avoiding public scrutiny, fearing unpleasant rumors might spread, but my thinking was too narrow. I apologize.”

In an instant, his honorifics, formalities, way of speaking–all elevated to match how she addressed him. Moreover, his apologetic reasons seemed valid.

After all, for a man who loved Beatrice, would he want further association with Kaela after the Emperor had insinuated they were well-matched, something he clearly wished to avoid? She lowered her gaze. Her blurred vision was from the fever, not a wounded heart.

“If you’ll allow it, I wish to escort you home. Please grant me permission.”

For the Grand Duke of Lusenford, the Princess Ostein was someone he never wished to be entangled with from start to finish. She confirmed it once again.

The bond she had been desperately clinging to slipped away, vanishing fruitlessly from her fingertips.

****

Her fever was so high, she was completely out of it. Her face must have been an unsightly red flush.

But after brazenly confronting Peon in a way she never had before, did the redness or paleness of her face even matter?

Kaela lowered her gaze. The husband who had always ridden separately was, for the first time, sharing the same carriage as her.

The hooves clattered quietly through the dimly lit streets of Crania. Knights from the Ostein and Lusenford duchies escorted the carriage.

The Princess Ostein’s breathing wheezed audibly. Though severely ill, not a single hair was out of place.

For some reason, she felt like she still couldn’t leave the bone-chilling cold of Lusenford behind. As if she alone was trapped in an eternal winter.

“I’m sorry I hurt your feelings by trying to avoid unpleasant rumors of our association by conveying things separately.”

Another sincere apology in perfect military diction. With this, their childhood connection was completely severed. Kaela gave a wry smile.

“No one would spread such rumors about us, Your Highness.”

Now her entire body ached as if beaten. Since she was in pain, she could speak painful words uncaringly.

“Everyone in Crania knows who Your Highness’ beloved is.”

Even after marriage, the Grand Duchess’s modest demeanor contrasted with the Grand Duke’s famous, ardent, unwavering love for Beatrice. Kaela felt another stabbing pain behind her eyes.

“Who would dare link someone like me to Your Highness through rumors?”

As much as she wished otherwise, Kaela knew this man’s gaze would never fall on her. She had tried persistently, but was now exhausted from trying too hard.

“No one would believe such rumors.”

Only after death did she firmly put an end to her ill-fated, one-sided infatuation. How foolish she had been.