The funeral of the Crown Prince was unprecedentedly modest. It was so stark that it hardly seemed fit for a royal heir.

The ceremony concluded swiftly, with only a few members of the royal family in attendance. It was as though someone were in a rush or trying to conceal some truth surrounding the death. The speed of the proceedings was suspiciously brisk.

No one voiced objections. The king, who had been deeply shocked by the Crown Prince’s sudden death, had collapsed and taken to his sickbed.

Now that the sole heir was dead and the king himself bedridden, it was perhaps inevitable that no one dared to raise concerns about the funeral.

Though the palace was shrouded in a heavy silence, it felt like the eye of a storm.

Amid the eerie stillness that pervaded the palace, two figures stood at the center of it all: Grand Duke Cliff, the king’s closest kin and heir to the throne, and Fabiola, the young queen who had just turned twenty.

***

“Caleb, what happens now?”

Astrid asked, her dry lips moistened by her tongue. They were on their way to meet Fabiola, who had summoned them to the Queen’s Audience Chamber.

“Shh.”

Caleb, walking ahead, gave Astrid a quiet warning. Astrid instinctively adjusted her gaze forward and resumed walking alongside him.

With their eyes fixed ahead, they exchanged whispers.

“Don’t worry. Astrid Lionel will never sit on the Queen’s throne.”

“Caleb!”

“You’re better suited to be a grand duchess. I’m just saying, don’t burden yourself unnecessarily. The king is still alive.”

“But…”

Astrid wanted to say more but ultimately closed her mouth. Though bedridden, the king was still alive, and she couldn’t utter anything disrespectful. Even so, she couldn’t entirely shake the unease that gnawed at her.

‘What if His Majesty doesn’t recover…?’

Countless thoughts swirled in her mind, but this wasn’t a question she could answer. Fortunately, Caleb’s expression remained steadfast.

Though she couldn’t be sure of his inner thoughts, Astrid wanted to believe that, as long as Caleb was present, no serious problems would arise. No, she had to believe it.

***

“Grand Duke Cliff and the Grand Duchess have arrived!”

At the booming announcement of the attendant, the doors to the audience chamber swung open wide.

“Astrid.”

Before entering, Caleb extended his large hand toward Astrid. She stared at it blankly for a moment.

It was the very hand she had coldly pushed away not long ago after a heated argument. A hand so large it could easily envelop hers, rough yet warm—no, more than warm, almost scorching.

‘I always wanted to hold this hand and walk beside him…’

Astrid’s wish had been fulfilled in an unexpected situation.

“Are you okay?”

As their hands met, Caleb whispered softly, his voice barely audible. Despite her best efforts to hide it, it seemed he had noticed the slight tremor in her fingertips.

This man, with his large and rough hands, could sometimes be so delicate and tender. It was this side of Caleb that drove Astrid crazy.

“…What about you?”

She returned his concern, causing Caleb’s lips to twitch upward for a fleeting moment, so brief it was nearly imperceptible.

“Don’t worry. There’s no one here who would dare harm the Grand Duchess of Cliff. Not even the queen.”

“…Oh.”

Caleb appeared to believe her tension stemmed from Fabiola. For a moment, Astrid, entirely preoccupied with Caleb’s concerns, finally noticed another face in the room—the arrogant expression of the young queen, Fabiola, seated at a distance.

“…!”

The queen, seated on an ornate chair, was dressed in black mourning attire. The fabric of her dress, still as vibrant as the day it was made, had once been a gift from Astrid’s father.

That dress was a symbol of the years Fabiola had stolen from Astrid.

“Astrid?”

As she recognized the dress and froze, Caleb softly called her name to bring her back to her senses.

“…I’m fine.”

Her response, spoken in a voice anyone could tell was anything but fine, came out haltingly. Caleb’s dark eyebrows twitched at her tone.

“Astrid, if you’re unwell—”

“No!”

She cut him off before he could finish. Meeting Caleb’s eyes with a resolute expression, she spoke firmly.

“I refuse to retreat. People of Cliff never back down when someone picks a fight with them.”

“…Of course you don’t.”

Caleb let out a soft chuckle. Instead of saying anything more, he tightened his grip on Astrid’s hand.

The two exchanged a silent glance before synchronizing their steps and moving forward. Before long, they stood before the queen.

Perched on the throne, Fabiola shone brighter than ever. Looking down at them with a faint smile, she struck a regal figure.

With a gentle smile, Fabiola addressed the Grand Duke and Grand Duchess.

“Welcome, Grand Duke Cliff, and Grand Duchess.”

Her tone was exceedingly polite, yet Fabiola remained seated as she greeted them. Though she was the queen, her actions were a clear breach of etiquette.

The queen’s bold behavior sparked whispers among the gathered nobility.

“I heard she’s from a ducal family, but what is she thinking with such conduct?”

“What would someone from a small kingdom like Hestian know? She’s still just a green youngling.”

“Watch your words, madam. If she were to bear an heir under these circumstances?”

“Oh dear, are you suggesting the aging king could even manage such a thing? She ought to be bowing before Grand Duke Cliff instead of behaving so foolishly…tsk.”

“Surely this is some sort of power play? It’s her way of saying she’s above the Grand Duke of Cliff.”

“My goodness, how audacious of her!”

Fabiola, now the subject of ridicule, silently observed the nobility. Her cold gaze swept over each person, her lip curling in faint disdain.

‘I thought royalty might be a little different, but they’re no better. They’re all utterly vulgar.’

Fabiola fought to conceal the deep contempt brewing within her, though it was no easy task.

‘I am not the little lady of the Bowell family. I am the queen of Croatan.’

She reminded herself firmly. She could no longer act on whims or wear her emotions openly as she had in her youth.

Fabiola was prepared to pay any price to reach her goal.

‘There’s no way I would’ve accepted the role of the old king’s wife without such resolve.’

Her thoughts drifted to the day her father had presented her with a new marriage prospect. A thrilling sense of anticipation had turned into a crushing blow.

The proposed match was to become the queen of Croatan, a barbaric country with no culture, education, or piety, and to stand by the side of an aging, ailing king. It was nothing short of a shock.

Before she could fully process her feelings, her father had spoken with cold conviction.

“Fabi, think carefully about what you want. A young and handsome man? Modest wealth and status? If so, you should’ve gone to Grand Duke Cliff. I thought you had your sights set higher.”

“…Father, but this—!”

“Didn’t I promise? I’d find you a match better than Astrid’s. What’s above a grand duchess? A queen, of course. Besides, the king of Croatan is already plagued with illness…”

“Father, are you saying—!”

“If your son ascends to the throne, you might even act as regent. It’s just a possibility, of course.”

“……!”

“Daughter, aim higher. I accepted this marriage proposal because I believed you could achieve greatness. If not, I wouldn’t have allowed the engagement with Grand Duke Cliff to be broken.”

“……!”

Once Fabiola grasped the grand vision her father had painted, she had no choice but to agree. For the sake of future glory, she could endure the humiliation of the present. ‘Because I will rise to a position higher and more brilliant than anyone else.’

That had long been Fabiola’s dream.

She would ascend to the highest position and look down upon everyone. Today marked the first step toward that lofty place.

Fabiola’s cold gaze swept slowly across the hall. Its final destination was Astrid, who stood upright beside Caleb. Fabiola stared silently at her cousin Astrid, who had entered the audience chamber as the dignified Grand Duchess.

‘To claw your way back here even after falling to the depths—your resilience is admirable, Astrid.’

Fabiola’s crimson lips curved upward briefly before returning to their place. Adopting the mask of a gentle and innocent queen, she turned her gaze toward the Grand Duke and Grand Duchess with a benevolent expression.

“I greet Your Majesty, the Queen.”