Grace stood in front of the mirror with a blank expression on her face.

She had been confined to her room during the days of the funeral. She couldn’t tell if this was some sort of punishment for her – the woman who had tried to implicate her late husband’s brother in disgraceful rumours – or perhaps just another of Cajetan’s schemes.

She removed her chemise and stared at her n*ked reflection. The red marks on her skin had faded slightly. Slowly, she ran her fingers over them, her fists clenching tightly.

What was this man thinking? Leaving such marks on the day of his brother’s death, almost as if to show it off. And he had taken her several times after that.

He had stripped her of her black mourning dress, mocked her lust and emptied himself into her again and again.

“Ugh.”

She muttered, biting her lip hard as she began to dress again. She hadn’t made it to the end of her husband’s funeral.

Everyone must have thought she had gone mad. As she watched the long funeral procession stretch out the window, she was left alone with her grief. Of course, none of this stopped Cajetan.

When he returned from his brother’s funeral, he once again forced her legs apart, his indifferent face betraying no emotion as he recklessly thrust into her.

“Lady Grace.”

A knock came at the door.

‘Lady Grace, is it?’

A small laugh escaped her lips. Only a few days ago she had been called Viscountess. But now, with her husband dead, no one seemed to know how to address her.

It was too raw to still call her Viscountess, but to treat her as no one at all felt inappropriate, given her status as a foreign princess.

Grace didn’t turn to face the door. Even with her chemise on, the red marks weren’t completely hidden. Unless she wore something that covered her up to the neck, there was no way to hide the marks Cajetan had left on her body. Her fists clenched.

“His Majesty has requested your presence.”

“I understand.”

At last. The moment she had been waiting for had arrived – whether she liked it or not. A decision would be made about her.

It was inevitable. Even with her husband gone, she was still a princess with no children to bind her to this land. Sending her back was the natural thing to do.

Grace’s eyes fell on the deep black dress lying nearby. She would have to wear it. Her husband had only been buried yesterday and the King had yet to decide her fate.

The black dress was designed to cover her body completely, to wrap her in mourning from head to toe. It would hide everything – even the traces Cajetan had left.

She pulled out a brightly coloured dress. Its design left her shoulders and chest almost bare – a choice wholly inappropriate for someone who had just lost her husband. But she could think of no other way.

‘This is the only way to expose what Cajetan has done.’

Of course, she couldn’t stand before the king and queen and spread her legs to show them the remains of what he had left behind.

Instead, she chose to wear the dress that would reveal every shameful mark and draped a shawl over her shoulders.

“Ah.”

The maid who entered the room froze in surprise, startled by the sight before her.

Everyone else – maids, servants, knights – wore black as a sign of mourning.

In the sea of dark robes, her light dress stood out like a glaring beacon. It was impossible not to feel ashamed.

Whispers filled the air as everyone turned their eyes to Grace, but she lifted her chin, trying to keep her composure.

Today they would all know that she wasn’t mad – that what she had said at Velenus’ funeral was the truth.

As she entered the drawing room, she was greeted by the astonished faces of the king and queen.

Just as others now addressed her as “Lady Grace”, she wondered if she should call them “Your Majesty” and “Your Highness”.

Uncertain, Grace slowly bowed her head in greeting.

“…Grace.”

The clenched tone in the king’s voice reached her ears. Did he think she was not grieving for his son?

Glancing to the king’s side, she saw Cajetan standing there with an unreadable expression on his face.

This is not going to go the way you want.

The thought of remaining in this land under the control of her husband’s murderer was something Grace could not bear.

“Please understand why I’m dressed like this.”

Grace slowly removed her shawl, revealing the red marks scattered across her pale skin. Bite marks on her neck. Crimson marks on the swell of her br*ast. The atmosphere in the room froze, heavy and oppressive.

“Everything I told you before was true. Mother, Father. These marks – every one of them – were made by Cajetan.”

Grace fell to her knees before the king and queen as if the strength had left her body.

“Long ago, this man r*ped me and disgraced my husband.”

“Sister-in-law.”

Cajetan’s low voice broke the tense silence, but she ignored him. There was no turning back now.

“These marks – all of them – were left by Cajetan after my husband’s death. Even during the funeral, he – he r*ped me, again and again!”

“Enough!”

The king roared, his voice raspy and shaking with rage, unable to bear it any longer.

“It’s the truth! Look at these marks! Cajetan is the one who killed my husband. He wanted me for himself!”

Her desperate cries filled the room, each word cutting through the heavy tension. The weight of her accusation, along with the visible evidence, left the air thick with disbelief and unspoken anger.

Saying it out loud felt humiliating. Didn’t she sound like the heroine of a cheap romance novel? Grace hurriedly explained – Cajetan’s long history of abuse, the things he had said, and how she was certain he had killed her husband.

The king and queen, at a loss for words, simply looked down at her in silence.

“These… marks seem to have been there for days. Is there any evidence that Cajetan is responsible?”

The king asked, his face grim, as if it were distasteful even to say such a thing.

“Father! It’s clear Cajetan did this!”

“Grace, Cajetan wept more than anyone for Velenus’ death.”

“Mother, I tell you, those were false tears!”

“I understand that you’re confused and grieving over your husband’s death,” the queen said gently, “but to accuse Cajetan is something I cannot condone.”

“I am not confused!”

“Sister-in-law.”

Cajetan interrupted, taking a step closer, a sad expression on his face.

“Are you saying that I left these marks?”

“Yes! You—”

“They appear to be several days old. Could they not have been left by my brother before he died?”

“They are from the night Velenus died!”

“Sister-in-law,” Cajetan said calmly, “I know you and my brother were close.”

Grace was at a loss for words. The man before her was terrifying. Had he been expecting this all along? Was that why he had deliberately left such obscene marks on her body that first night, as if to show off his power?

A shiver ran down her spine and she instinctively stepped away from him.

“You want to hold on to the memories you shared with my brother, don’t you?”

“No, no, that’s not it. This is what you did!”

“Do you want to stay in this country, sister-in-law? Is that why you say I’m responsible for all this?”

“That’s ridiculous. Cajetan, you’re crazy!”

“If you say I’m the one who did it, then you can stay here by marrying me, can’t you? Is that what this is about?”

“No, no… no…”

Grace shook her head repeatedly, her voice breaking as she denied his twisted accusations.

Cajetan wore an unbearably sad expression, dripping with mockery.

“Mother,” he said, turning to the queen.

“Yes?” she replied hesitantly, glancing at him.

“If my sister-in-law insists to the end that I am the one responsible, does that not mean that she is determined to stay here, no matter what the consequences?” 

The queen’s expression faltered as she looked between Cajetan and Grace, the weight of his words hanging heavily in the air. 

“No. Mother, please, just send me back. I’ll go… I’ll go back, just let me go. Please.” 

“There is no need for excuses, sister-in-law, I know you don’t want to leave this place so full of memories of my brother.” 

A tear trickled down his cheek, the sight painfully dramatic. Grace laughed hollowly. 

“And tragically, you’ve gone mad over losing him, haven’t you?” 

“I am not mad!”

“Mother, Father, if we send sister-in-law away like this, there will be even greater consequences. What would happen to her?” 

“…That is true.”

“Sending a princess back to her homeland who has lost her husband and gone mad could strain relations between the two nations.”

Cajetan went on, his voice calm and calculated.

“I am not mad!”

Grace cried again, her voice breaking with despair.

“Mother, please. I’m not mad. The one who’s mad is Cajetan!”