But his young daughter did not yet know the full measure of a person’s character. Duke Balthar found it all deeply disagreeable, but he furrowed his brow as he tried to gauge what Heliones most likely intended.

Heliones had not summoned Lucian to the capital to make her his mistress or anything of the sort. He would find the very idea of the word mistress attached to Lucian’s name repugnant.

Given the treatment his mother, the late Empress, had received during her time as a mistress, that was only natural.

And so the Emperor, wanting to protect Lucian, would clearly hold to the position that he and Lucian had no personal relationship whatsoever until a remarriage was officially decided.

The beautiful, lofty Emperor had genuine dignity. Even when dealing with political rivals, he preserved at least a minimum of honor.

And that kind of character became a significant political weakness. Duke Balthar had already seen through Heliones’s next move with perfect clarity.

Duke Balthar had also tracked down the judge who had processed Heliones’s divorce papers, and he even knew that Heliones was hiding the man.

‘For now, I’ll have to pressure public opinion and push for the selection of an Empress, even if it has to be forced. I have no desire to break the doll my Delmir is so fond of.’

It would be wonderful if things went as planned, but knowing that Heliones was the kind of man who would snap before he bent, Duke Balthar was already preparing a contingency.

Duke Balthar was the finest kind of hunter, one who knew how to hold his breath and wait with patience in order to catch his prey. He decided to bide his time quietly, waiting for the right moment to take down the Emperor, that great prize of a quarry.

He would drive the prey toward the desired position slowly and without anyone noticing, until the moment all conditions were perfectly in place to cut off its breath in a single strike.

* * *

I had never been someone who particularly enjoyed going out, but lately there were times when being outside the house felt easier.

The day after the gossip sheets ran their stories about me, Heliones made a public announcement stating that he and Lucian, former wife and ex-royal of Rodencia, shared nothing more than a political relationship.

The Emperor had stated the facts as they were, and there were those who believed him, but rumor always flows toward what is interesting rather than what is true.

Those who thirsted for simple, sensational scandal rather than complicated political matters firmly believed I was on my way to becoming Heliones’s mistress, and treated me as a temptress who had bewitched the Emperor.

Perhaps because of that, though it was not a frequent occurrence given the surveillance, or rather the guard detail, roughly once every two days something unpleasant would come flying over the wall: a nasty note, the carcass of a dead animal, things of that nature.

Hanna and Lucinda were always busy trying to keep such things from my sight, but I had eyes, and I saw them in the end, and the three of us found ourselves jumping at the smallest sound.

It reached the point where it was more comfortable to stuff my red hair into a large bonnet and wander the parks and streets, but the weather in Frianc, now into July, made even that difficult and wore on me.

Delmir was certainly a clever young woman. Without a single word or small action tying her directly to me, she had left me with nowhere to turn.

What on earth was her grievance? That I had been Heliones’s wife?

She had bribed the maids and kept watch on the bedchamber herself, so surely she knew better than anyone that I had been nothing more than a figurehead who never even shared a wedding night.

I felt low and suffocated. The feeling of being condemned for something I had not done. No matter how many times I had been through it, it never stopped being unpleasant.

Whether because of the gossip sheets or not, Heliones refrained from visiting the lodgings after that.

Instead, he sent a warm letter saying that public opinion would die down soon and I need not worry. I wrote back that none of it bothered me in the slightest since it was untrue, a lie told for his sake.

Even in the midst of these dreary days, there was something that unexpectedly brought me back to life, and that was the time I spent with three young ladies who kept coming to see me despite the unsavory rumors.

Nelia and Elise, and Giselle, whose name I made sure to commit to memory on her next visit.

Associating with me, a princess from an enemy nation who filled the gossip sheets day after day, could do their reputations no good, and yet they came to visit me often, bringing desserts.

After several warm visits, I found myself reflecting a little on the prejudice I had held toward Nelia.

She showed me genuine concern, no less sincere than Elise, who had empathized deeply with my situation.

“People naturally love to add their own words to things they don’t really know. But not everyone is like that. There are many people who believe the official statement His Majesty the Emperor released.”

Elise echoed Nelia’s words and offered me comfort.

“Most of the people who believe those gossip sheets have little real interest in politics. They’re simply people who need an outlet for the tedium of daily life.”

Listening to the soft voices of these gentle women soothe me with careful words, I felt something I had not felt before.

Ah. There are people who think about how I might be feeling. There are people who feel indignant on my behalf when something unpleasant happens to me.

Hanna had leaped about in a fury over the gossip sheets too, but she and I had met when I was simply the widowed Lady Belzen, not Lucian of Rodencia.

It had never once occurred to me that people who knew who I truly was could look at me with compassion.

As I well knew about myself, I was a rather desperate sort of person. The kind of shallow soul whose heart races at the smallest kindness.

And so the three women who came to see me day after day, becoming my joy and my comfort, looked very dear to me. Without quite realizing it, I found myself cutting generous slices of pie and placing them one by one into each of their mouths.

Nelia received her piece with a wide, bright smile. Elise received hers looking a little shy. Giselle, the most talkative chatterbox of the three, looked briefly surprised, then accepted her piece with a mischievous smile.

The sea breeze that came in when I opened the second-floor window. The faded sketches in the sun-filled sitting room. The faint scent of sunlight in Hanna’s blonde hair.

The things that had made me happy until now.

Lately I had been living through days so tightly strung that I feared I might be heading for a nervous breakdown, but recently one more thing had been added to the list.

The small, chirping voices of women who did not mock my words or insult me, voices that passed between us carrying sympathy and understanding.

Ah. So this is why people make friends.

About a week later, word came from the imperial palace.

I briefly wondered at the request to visit the palace in the late evening, but considering what people might say, a visit at a late hour did seem the right choice, and I sent back a reply in the affirmative.

Early July, the height of summer. The season had arrived when the earth would not cool easily even after the long sun finally disappeared, reluctant to leave.

I made my way to the imperial palace in an empire-waist dress of light fabric with a chiffon shawl draped over my shoulders. Even after sundown the plaza in front of the palace was still crowded, but the darkness blocked people’s view, and I passed through the western gate of the palace without any trouble. Count Fonta guided me toward the inner palace. Having been there once before, I followed him with ease.

“Oh…”

For a moment the sight before me stole my words.

The garden that had been filled with pure white roses on the night of the birthday banquet was tonight entirely red. It seemed that every last Lucian columbine purchased from the Iledn family’s private estate had truly been transplanted here to the imperial palace.

Heliones received my greeting with a manner that was quietly proud yet proper, and stood without a word, giving me the space to take in the garden.

The red landscape was a little overwhelming, but it did not give me the creeping, unsettling feeling I had felt at the Iledn family’s private estate. I only felt a little sorry for the laborers who must have worked so hard moving and planting all those flowers.

But this was Heliones. He would naturally have paid them fair wages.

I set aside my needless worrying and decided to focus on the sight before me.

Back in my home country, on days when the wounds from t*rture were severe, I sometimes spent the night in the t*rture chamber. I could not walk back to my bedchamber, and there was no one to help me, so I had no choice but to seek sleep on the cold stone floor where my own blood had dried.

With all feeling wrung out of me, staring at my own bloodstains with eyes gone completely hollow, a faint fragrance would drift in through the iron bars along with the moonlight.

On those nights I would force my body, which resisted every movement, to drag itself forward, crawl to the bars, and pull itself upright. Outside the bars, a quiet red tide swayed slowly beneath the white moonlight.

The Rodencian columbine was a flower I had seen to the point of exhaustion from the moment I was born, but the sight on those particular nights was something apart.

The sight that covered the red of my suffering with a red of its own, one that was beautiful. I had never once missed the detestable Rodencian palace, but when the wind turned warm, I would sometimes find myself thinking of that scene.

Ah. Faced with a sight I had longed for, I grew weak.