‘It would have been so much better if you had died with your mother. You wretched thing. To think you still haven’t awakened even after all this t*rture.’

When Rodencia fell, I was living at the Gertil ducal estate in the Frianc Empire, as the duchess.

I genuinely wonder. As she watched her homeland crumble, as she watched her children be executed, did my stepmother blame me for not being there?

Ha. No need to think twice about that. She must have hurled every curse this world had to offer.

Was it truly my fault? Did Rodencia fall because I was the non-ability user royal from the prophecy?

‘You wretched thing.’ Did she really think that through all that brutal t*rture, I simply refused to awaken out of stubbornness? That couldn’t be it.

Even without my stepmother pointing it out, I already found my own existence unbearable. If I could have, I would have done anything to use the ability.

I simply couldn’t. That was all.

I went to the kitchen and found fresh plums sitting on the table. Firm, green plums, exactly what I needed right now, for someone who had always had an unusual fondness for sour, sweet fruit.

Crunch. I bit in, and the taut skin split open, flooding my mouth with a sharp, eye-opening burst of juice.

My head cleared at once, and the trembling in my hands gradually settled.

Right. He’s not the type to t*rture anyone.

Worst case, it would be a war crimes tribunal, or being used as bait to draw out rebel factions still hiding in Rodencia.

And even if he wanted information about those rebels, he would use drugs rather than t*rture.

It’s fine. I can handle that much.

Compared to the pain of being cut, stabbed, and burned, that much I can endure.

I already know from bitter experience that people don’t die so easily.

Whatever he wants from me, if I just hold on and survive, the day will come when I can live the way I want again.

No. It will definitely come. It has to.

‘Live. Survive, and make sure you live the happy life you want!’

The only words my mother left me before she passed when I was four. I can’t remember her eyes, her expression, or even the sound of her voice, but this one phrase has stayed burned into my mind, and it’s the reason I haven’t put an end to this wretched life.

I finished a couple of plums and headed upstairs to find a large sitting room and a bedroom. I stepped into the open bedroom and found summer clothes already neatly arranged in the wardrobe, ready to use.

A quick count put it at over ten outfits. That probably meant I would be spending the summer here.

“Haa.”

Has any part of my life ever been easy? It had been a life of t*rture disguised as experiments, *buse, and being used twice as a pawn in political marriages I never chose.

The peace I had enjoyed until now was the strange part.

Thinking of it that way, the tangle in my chest straightened itself out cleanly. My goal was to survive by any means necessary. The process didn’t matter.

But there was one worry. Hanna. Would she suffer simply for being connected to me?

Worst case, could she be tortured for information and killed?

Ah, there it was again. That habit of imagining the worst.

Knowing it didn’t make it stop. She was the only person in my life I had shared lasting affection with.

The small cat I used to sneak food to, the little bird, my stepmother and my half-siblings had killed them all in front of me, claiming it would strengthen my mental fortitude.

The first husband I had thought cared for me, even if we could never be lovers, turned out to have been deceiving me in every word and action.

If anything happened to Hanna, every resolution I had made would mean nothing. I had spent my whole life having things taken from me, but I refused to let that happen anymore.

If something happened to Hanna, I would…

I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I went back downstairs. The imperial palace was just a short distance from here. I wanted to go and demand answers right then, but could I get there safely?

I stood at the front door, turning over escape routes in my mind, or at least some way to get word to the palace, when the front door suddenly swung open.

“!”

Heliones stood there with a document envelope in his hand. Why had he come back?

“Were you about to slip out on your own? Unaccompanied outings are not permitted.”

His tone wasn’t exactly that of someone addressing a subordinate, but it carried the weight of a final notice that my situation had been decided, and something in me flared up.

“What did you do with Hanna?”

“Pardon?”

At my question, Heliones furrowed his elegant brow slightly, as though he wasn’t sure what I meant.

“If anything happens to Hanna, I will absolutely never…”

“My lady.”

Heliones, who had been listening to me with open displeasure, cut me off in a firm voice.

“Is she not someone you hold dear? What do you think I would… do to her…”

His voice trailed off and faded as though the energy drained out of him mid-sentence.

“Please, have a seat.”

If Hanna was safe, that was a relief for now. But I couldn’t feel completely at ease, so I kept my guard up as I made my way into the parlor.

“I received a telegram. The maid is on her way here.”

“Pardon?”

“I had intended to give her a more generous severance than you suggested, but she refused and packed your things herself, apparently.”

“Oh.”

Part of me had hoped she might, and another part had hoped she wouldn’t. I didn’t want to put a girl who hadn’t even known who I was through this anxious, confined existence.

But, shamefully, even as I felt that pang of guilt, some corner of my heart was quietly relieved.

I was still this weak.

“If she’s on her way here, that means when the time comes to leave, she’ll be able to go safely as well?”

I didn’t know about my own safety, but I needed a clear answer about Hanna’s. Heliones was not the sort of person to lie, so getting his confirmation now would at least ease some of my worry.

Heliones let out a low, resigned breath and answered without strength.

“Yes. She will be safe. I give you my word.”

At his promise, I bowed my head in thanks and took a seat across from him.

“Is this the document bearing your signature, my lady?”

What Heliones held out was a document that felt strangely familiar even after two years. My divorce papers.

“Yes. That is my signature.”

“I see.”

Heliones ran a hand over his dry lips and fell into a brief silence, as though something was weighing on his mind.

“The signature beside mine is not mine.”

Well, that could happen. Heliones had been at the front at the time, so a legal representative could have signed in his place.

I looked at him with an expression that made clear I had no idea what he was getting at, and Heliones tapped his signature, or rather the signature someone had made in his place, with a long finger and spoke.

“I have never seen this document, and I never agreed to this divorce.”

“??”

What was this now? Was he saying the divorce had gone through without his knowledge?

“I returned from the front several months after this document was filed. By then all the legal proceedings were finished, and you had disappeared somewhere. Under a changed name, no less.”

I had changed my name simply because having my identity known would have been inconvenient, and I had moved because my mother-in-law had told me to keep out of sight.

Did he not know about the promise Duchess Gertil had asked me to make?

“The move… as I said before, I couldn’t go on living at the ducal estate after the divorce, so I went looking for somewhere with a nice view and ended up there. The name change was just for my own convenience. There was no other intention behind it. If I had been planning to spy on anyone, I wouldn’t have been living so quietly.”

I chose not to bring up Duchess Gertil. Honestly, even without my former mother-in-law’s request, I had never had any intention of seeing Heliones again.

“Yes, I know. There would have been no particular reason for you to distance yourself from me. You divorced and became a stranger, so you left. No other intention whatsoever.”

Right. Good that he understood. But why did Heliones look so pained?

“I am going to file an objection.”

“Pardon?”

“This document was forged, was it not? Naturally it needs to be contested and annulled.”

I understood that the document had been forged. But what was there to gain from annulling a document that had already been filed and processed over two years ago?

“Why?”

The thought slipped out of my mouth before I could stop it.

“I mean, why, of all things… go to that kind of trouble, that is, take that kind of action…”

While I stumbled over my words trying to walk it back, Heliones gathered the documents and rose from his seat without any visible reaction.

“Why, you ask. Why go to all this trouble?”

“No, that’s not what I meant to say…”

At my protest, Heliones looked down at me with a cool, hard gaze and answered bluntly.

“There is a procedural irregularity, and I intend to correct it. Is that sufficient reason for you?”

“Ah, yes, well…”

Before I could even finish my reply, Heliones strode out of the townhouse and was gone.

“Huu.”

The moment he left, the tension drained out of me and I sank into the chair.

Correcting a procedural irregularity? After all this time?

What an exhausting personality. Then again, he had always been like this. He acted as though a thorn would grow in his mouth if he didn’t live by the letter of every rule and principle.

‘It is proper etiquette for a married couple to dine together for formal meals.’

‘It is tradition to wear tailored attire at official state functions.’

He had never once fulfilled the most fundamental obligation of a married couple, yet Heliones would cite the most trivial reasons to uphold minor formalities.

Well, even for a stickler like Heliones, that particular obligation would have been difficult to follow through on.

He would hardly have wanted to mix the bloodline of the great Frianc imperial family with the blood of an enemy’s daughter, a cursed princess.

I was used to it, in any case. And at least Heliones had never deceived me by hiding his own desires the way Count Belzen had. That made him better than my first ex-husband, at least.

Well, what could I do? The man with a mind closed tight from front to back simply could not abide a forged document.

I supposed I had no choice but to stay in the capital until the objection was resolved and practice my signature in the meantime.