‘I just need to ignore her.’

If Caleb found out about this, he would undoubtedly be furious. He despised anyone interfering with his people. Though Astrid hadn’t been loved as a woman, she was still one of Caleb’s own.

He had made it clear: “You’re the Grand Duchess of Cliff.”

‘I just need to trust Caleb’s words. Why should Fabiola’s words matter?’

She told herself to ignore Fabiola over and over, but it wasn’t so easy. Negative thoughts and words had a way of spreading faster than good ones.

Astrid stood up, planting her small feet firmly to avoid staggering.

In the end, she turned her back on Fabiola, abruptly cutting off their conversation. She couldn’t bear to face her. Seeing Fabiola’s brazen face might tempt her to spit in it, which could harm Caleb.

She was afraid.

“……I need to go. I can’t keep Caleb waiting any longer.”

“Astrid, divorce him.”

Fabiola called out to her retreating figure. Whether Astrid listened or not didn’t matter; Fabiola was accustomed to pushing her opinions relentlessly.

Astrid knew from experience that arguing back would be futile. She chose silence instead.

“…….”

“For your sake. For the Grand Duke’s sake. For the people of Cliff. This divorce is for everyone, my dear sister.”

“……Your Majesty, farewell.”

Astrid staggered out of the audience chamber. Fabiola didn’t stop her. After all, she had achieved her goal.

Astrid didn’t mind if she didn’t get divorced right away. She had already shaken things up this much, which was a success in itself. One day, the seeds she planted would take root in Astrid’s heart, and Fabiola firmly believed they would eventually bear favorable fruit.

“Tsk. The Grand Duke’s heart already belongs to Elena Blevit, yet she clings so pathetically.”

It didn’t seem like Astrid would back down anytime soon. She acted as if covering her eyes would hide the truth before her, stubbornly ignoring reality even when it was spelled out. Fabiola loathed that particular mix of ignorance and obstinacy in Astrid to the point of revulsion.

During childhood, the tutors brought in by her uncle, Duke Bowell, had always praised Astrid’s brilliance. Yet, Fabiola thought Astrid was foolish, intelligence aside.

‘What does someone raised delicately among servants and under her uncle’s care know?’

Even when her belongings were taken, Astrid never resisted. Even when mocked to her face, she pretended not to hear. Fabiola despised Astrid, who always maintained the dignity of a noble swan.

It was nauseatingly satisfying to see her, who had always pretended to be so elegant and refined, now clinging to a man whose heart had already departed. It was both pitiful and utterly detestable.

‘A fool with no pride. Yet she still dares to act dignified in front of me.’

Thinking of Astrid sitting opposite her with that pale face made Fabiola feel like her insides were twisting. For the sake of her unborn child, she resolved to get rid of Astrid, the thorn in her side, for good.

‘A sinner who should have stayed locked away in the convent, offering penance for the rest of her life. She should’ve rotted there forever. Tsk.’

She resented not only Caleb, who had brought Astrid out and taken her to Croatan, but also her father, Duke Bowell, who allowed it for the family’s benefit.

Her childhood, which should have been radiant, was instead lived in the shadows, and it was all because of Astrid. Her father, who knew this well, had let things escalate to this point. Fabiola couldn’t help but resent him.

‘If my father won’t cooperate, I’ll just have to find another way.’

Fabiola couldn’t tolerate Astrid being on equal footing with her, the queen, just because she was the Grand Duchess. She had expressed her objection to her father repeatedly, but his response remained lukewarm.

‘With Bowell producing both the Queen of Croatan and the Grand Duchess, my father likely sees no reason to remove Astrid.’

Her father, who was quick with calculations, had no incentive to act against Astrid. As a child, she might have had no choice but to follow his will, but not anymore.

As an adult, Fabiola had no intention of submitting to her father’s wishes. Removing Astrid from her sight entirely was the only way she felt she could prepare for childbirth in peace. The problem was that Astrid wouldn’t step down willingly.

‘Tsk. With that stubborn personality of hers, she probably didn’t even understand what I was saying.’

Thinking of Astrid made Fabiola feel a wave of nausea rising from her stomach. It seemed the morning sickness was starting up again.

“Lady McDowell!”

“Yes, Your Majesty. Is there something you need?”

“I feel suffocated. Please bring me some cool lemonade.”

“Yes, Your Majesty! Fortunately, some ice just arrived, so I’ll prepare it immediately.”

“Thank you, McDowell.”

Fabiola smiled warmly at her loyal lady-in-waiting. A glass of cool lemonade might help alleviate this stifling feeling.

“Oh, and one more thing.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Just as McDowell was about to call for the attendants, she turned back and promptly replied. Her composed posture, hands neatly folded, and slightly bowed head were pleasing to Fabiola. In a soft voice, Fabiola made her request.

“I need to write a letter. Could you prepare the materials for me? It’s a letter for Hestian.”

“Oh, is it for the Bowell family?”

“…No, for the Holy Church. A new pope has been enthroned, so as the queen of an allied nation, it’s only proper to send a congratulatory message.”

“Ah, I see! I hadn’t quite grasped the breadth of Your Majesty’s insight. I will prepare both the drink and the letter materials immediately.”

Fabiola’s gaze filled with deep satisfaction as she watched Lady McDowell withdraw, having offered her polite respects.

***

The blazing afternoon sun heated the entire palace.

Astrid raised her hand to shield her eyes from the piercing sunlight. From afar, the figures of Caleb and Elena standing side by side flickered in her view.

She couldn’t make out what they were discussing, but Caleb’s lips curled slightly upward as he listened to Elena chatter away.

‘…It’s blinding.’

A dull ache stung the corners of her eyes. To alleviate the sharp pain stabbing at her sensitive pupils, Astrid blinked furiously. Her long, graceful lashes cast faint shadows over her pale face.

All this pain, Astrid told herself, was due to the harsh afternoon sunlight. It would pass as soon as the moment did. Standing quietly, she soothed her heart.

Even the radiant sun must eventually set in the west by evening. Just as the searing afternoon sunlight would sink into the darkness, so too would this pain fade someday.

‘I just have to endure until then.’

She was silencing the turmoil in her heart and suppressing the pain when she noticed Caleb suddenly pause mid-conversation with Elena.

Though there was some distance between them, she could feel Caleb’s gaze land squarely on her. Sure enough, he strode over to her without hesitation and stopped right in front of her.

“Astrid, are you all right?”

“…I don’t know.”

She didn’t know her own heart. Whether she was all right or not.

To say she was fine felt wrong, as even standing on her two feet was a struggle. Yet, she wasn’t dying. She could breathe, see, and hear properly, so maybe it was bearable. Or so she thought, unsure.

The life Caleb had saved her for felt like a mere bonus. She had longed to live freely under the sunlight, even for a day, rather than remain bound in the convent for decades.

‘Is it greedy to ask for more than this…?’

Astrid felt as though all her desires—especially the one to possess Caleb fully—were being crushed under the weight of her circumstances. The pressure bore down on her, leaving her staring blankly at nothing in particular. Her gaze, usually alight and sparkling with reflections of Caleb whenever they were together, now appeared vacant and lifeless.

As Caleb approached her, he muttered internally, his frustration mounting.

“If she’s hurting, if she’s struggling, she should just say so. How hard could it be to tell me?”

No matter how many times he reassured her, Astrid never seemed able to confide in him. She always bore the burden alone, silently suffering, drying herself out in agony, only for Caleb to discover the truth far too late.

‘And when she finally reaches her limit, when she can’t endure anymore… she’ll…’

He didn’t even want to think about what might happen after that.

“It’s obvious. You look like you’re on the verge of collapse,” Caleb said bluntly.

“…!”

Without warning, Caleb swept Astrid into his arms, his expression grim. His large strides carried them toward their companions when a sharp cry escaped Astrid’s lips.

“No! Stop!”

The sound, more akin to a scream, was utterly unlike Astrid’s usual calm and measured tone. It brought Caleb’s steps to an immediate halt.

“You…”

Caleb looked down at the woman cradled in his arms, his expression hardening as he saw her tightly shut eyes and silent tears streaming down her flushed cheeks.

“Tell me. What did that woman—the new queen—say to you?”

“…”

Despite his demand, Astrid kept her eyes closed, refusing to respond. Caleb’s jaw tightened as he watched the endless stream of tears trail down her reddened face.

“…Edith will look after you. Wait in the carriage,” he said in a voice heavy with restrained fury.

“Caleb!”

“If you won’t tell me, then I’ll have to ask her. If you don’t want that, fine—stay silent. It doesn’t matter. I’ll find out myself. If there’s something you don’t want to face, then don’t. I’ll take care of it.”

“…!”