Chapter 1: Consummation on the Night of the New Moon (14)

Her cycle had always been regular. This was the first time something like this had happened. Even so, Larie forced herself to deny it.

It had to be from stress—her body was just thrown off.

It’s not that. It can’t be.

Once more, she pushed the anxiety deep down. Pregnancy didn’t happen so easily. There was no way, after such a long time apart, that she would conceive a child from one night with Terian.

All the more so—she had been taking the medicine her parents brought her every week. She had even been in terrible pain last time, which surely meant the medicine had worked.

Still, Larie instinctively looked down at her lower abdomen.

“……”

A strange premonition kept creeping in. Her hand sped up as she brushed her hair, reflecting her rising anxiety.

Just before she could bite her trembling lip, a disturbance echoed from outside.

“…How dare you! Such rudeness…!”

It sounded like the voice of the Marquis of Fridas. Startled, Larie stood up quickly and rushed to the window.

…My family is here.

A carriage marked with the Tromperie family crest had boldly entered the grand duke’s estate. The golden hair of the Marquis of Fridas was visibly trembling with fury as he stood before it.

The brush in her hand dropped to the floor with a soft clatter. As if faced with a reality she didn’t want to confront, Larie instinctively backed away.

Then, as always, the resignation deeply rooted in her body took hold.

I don’t want to go.

Her legs felt unbearably heavy as she descended the stairs, pulled toward a reality she desperately wanted to flee.

When Larie stepped into the garden, the Marquis of Fridas’s sharp gaze snapped toward her. It seemed he hadn’t left since coming to the estate the day before to discuss countermeasures.

“I couldn’t stand it any longer, worrying that you might be tormenting Larie again.”

“You vile, disgraceful people! Learn what shame means!”

Her mother’s voice responded sweetly as she fanned herself, prompting the marquis to roar back at her. His sharp, piercing gaze briefly flickered toward Larie before turning away.

“Hmph. And yet he clings to the grand duke’s house for a chance at the throne himself.”

Grumbling under his breath, her father watched the marquis’s retreating figure. As he began to move forward, Larie gathered every ounce of courage in her body.

“T-Today, maybe you should go back…”

Her hard-earned courage was crushed by the icy voice that followed.

“What did you just say, you wretched girl?”

“F-Father…”

“If that’s how it is, then why don’t you just come with us to the villa.”

“…I’m sorry.”

In the end, Larie lowered her head and followed her parents into the drawing room. It was at least a small relief that her brother hadn’t come—after the violence she had suffered that day, the thought of facing him again terrified her.

“You foolishly tried to shake your head that day. Did I raise you to behave like that, Larie?”

“…”

No sooner had she sat down than her mother chastised her with a venomous tone, speaking as if the violence Larie had endured meant absolutely nothing.

“Seeing that marquis lose his temper was quite satisfying, though.”

“First time I’ve seen that rigid old man raise his voice.”

Her father’s crooked smile was followed by her mother’s response. The way she laughed out loud, deliberately, made Larie squirm with discomfort.

“…Hah… If only we could push through the divine verification next. …That fox.”

Her father leaned back lazily on the sofa and grimaced. It seemed to be something that had been troubling him for a while, spilling from his lips half-absentmindedly.

The divine verification referred to a ritual in the imperial palace using a sacred relic called the Proof of Divinity—essentially a bloodline test.

“Probably wants more gold. I heard he’s desperate to take in a woman of another royal bloodline as his next concubine.”

It seemed the emperor had yet to conduct the divine test on the cousin he had brought in. That test was required to confirm their legitimacy, and the emperor was likely demanding a higher price from the Tromperie family in return.

The overwhelming weight of everything that had happened left Larie dizzy. Normally, she would have wondered how to relay this to the Grand Duchess—but now was certainly not the right time.

Would anyone in this house still believe a word she said?

“Larie. Eat this.”

Her mother once again offered the pitch-black pill. With a dry voice, Larie asked them blankly,

“Wouldn’t it be… better if I had a child?”

Why do you hate me so much?

Two piercing gazes met her face, both carrying a chilling clarity. Maybe it really was her own stupidity, just as her mother claimed—because none of this made sense to Larie.

Why?

“Stop speaking nonsense. Just take it already.”

Her mother’s stern voice cut off any possibility for explanation. She forcibly pulled Larie’s hand forward and placed the pill in her palm. No further explanation ever came.

What happens… if I do end up having a child?

The faint unease that had been circling her thoughts didn’t make it past her lips.

❖ ❖ ❖

Another week passed.

Each day, Larie lived in crushing anxiety. The constant tension kept her from sleeping, and she barely recognized when one day turned into the next. This morning, she only realized it was dawn when she heard the maid knocking at her door.

She had tried to endure after swallowing the last black pill they’d given her. If she had to live with inexplicable dread, she thought perhaps it was better to suffer some physical pain instead.

But this time, the reaction was worse. The nausea was unbearable. Though her stomach was empty, she spent a long time retching violently.

What do I do?

Her parents were expected again that afternoon. They had told her she would need to write and sign a petition—one that would officially call for the Grand Duke’s case to be presented before the Noble Assembly.

Apparently, Larie’s own signature, as the supposed “victim,” was required to make the session valid.

Disgusting.

The very thought of it made her sick—how she would be the one to stain Terian’s name with more filth.

And that wasn’t even the worst of her nightmares.

It had already been two weeks since she and Terian had spent that night together.

And there was still no sign of her monthly bleeding.

But I took the pill. So why…?

She’d vomited badly, yes—but her parents always stayed to observe her closely after making her take one. And the pain that followed each time had been sharp enough to convince her the medicine had worked.

If that were the case, then surely the medicine had taken some kind of effect. Especially since she had taken it before spending the night with Terian—she had been certain.

Larie’s eyes, which had been anxiously chewing on her lip, suddenly lost focus, turning hazy and dull.

“Ah…”

The question she had buried again and again burst forth without mercy. Like a fish leaping from the still surface of a lake, it broke through the calm and revealed itself in full.

The new pills—they weren’t to prevent pregnancy after all.

“Why did you swallow the poison yourself, Larie?”

It really was poison.

Her body, which had been pacing the room in restless agitation, collapsed soundlessly onto the bed.

She could no longer push it away. Despair swept in like a tidal wave, wrapping itself around her like a noose.

Every worst-case scenario she had imagined had now become reality. Her own family truly was trying to kill her. They intended to discard everything she was—like a soiled, crumpled scrap of paper.

“It… hurts…”

Larie didn’t know how to cry aloud. So instead, she curled in on herself and pressed her face into the mattress. No tears fell from her dry eyes—only pure, raw misery.

And once she admitted that it was poison, everything made sense.

If she were to die here in this manor—if poison were found in her blood—the entire stain would fall on Terian. Her death would be his fatal flaw.

Terian, the flawless heir, had no cracks large enough to warrant stripping him of his birthright. But if it could be said that he had murdered his own wife? That would change everything.

And now, with her pregnancy all but certain, the horror only deepened.

Her mother had always been obsessively attentive about whether she was pregnant or not. At first, it seemed only out of hatred—an unwillingness to allow Larie to bear a child. But now?

Now that a distant heir had been dragged into the palace… perhaps her parents had changed their minds.

Perhaps they had decided that Terian’s child, even one born from Larie, was a more useful tool than a child with weaker ties to the imperial line.

They would pull Terian down with the accusation of poisoning his own wife and then use her child for their ambitions.

“It hurts so much…”

Larie stayed like that for a long time, curled in on herself. Her insides, already dry and hollow, now felt like they would tear apart at any moment.

Once she was completely emptied out—hollowed of all will—she forced herself to rise.

Rain was pouring outside the window.

“……”

Perhaps the sky was crying in her place, because she couldn’t.

And suddenly, she longed for the forest.

She wanted to be in its embrace, to feel the cold rain wash over her entire body. Maybe then, even a little of the filth in her blood could be washed away.

She had been locking herself inside for days, afraid of arousing suspicion. But not now. Now she had to go. If she didn’t reach the forest soon, she wouldn’t be able to breathe.

She couldn’t even die here—not when her existence, from life to death, would only block Terian’s path.

Please help me. Someone, anyone…

Pouring out her hopeless prayers, Larie stepped out into the hallway without thinking. But, as if fate were testing her, someone else was leaving the room beside hers.

Terian.

He was dressed immaculately, as if he were about to head for the imperial palace. Larie, who had long lost track of time, vaguely remembered that mornings were usually when council meetings were held.

He stopped in his tracks the moment he saw her. His gaze, sharp as a blade, pierced through the hallway.

“I believe I told you not to seek me out again.”

“That’s…”

His expression instantly hardened as soon as he saw her.

Their rooms were adjacent, perfectly symmetrical in the corridor. To reach the outer halls, Larie had no choice but to pass in front of Terian’s door. Only now did she realize how it must have looked—like she’d been waiting for him right outside.

His gaze briefly flicked to Larie’s cheek, then dropped away with cold detachment. The feeling of it brought a painful flashback—of the last time they faced each other.

From Terian’s perspective, what had happened at the imperial ball was nothing short of a public humiliation. In front of the entire nobility, there stood Larie, slapping her own cheek in what appeared to be a pathetic display of self-inflicted drama.

How filthy and detestable he must think she is.

“Haah…”

With a quiet sigh, he turned away from Larie, who stood frozen and silent. His retreating back slowly faded from view.

Unaware of her own movement, Larie found herself clutching the hem of his coat.

“…What is this?”

Terian had turned away without even a speck of hesitation—but strangely, he stopped right where he was.

It was a small miracle. Her hands were trembling too badly to hold on with any real strength.

Her voice shook just as pathetically as her grip, trembling with shame as she spoke. It felt like a sin, needing help from the one who probably loathed her more than anyone.

“…Please… help me.”

Please, help me.

She wanted to explain everything—how her family was once again committing monstrous acts, how afraid and ashamed she was, how much she just wanted it all to stop.

She tried to smooth the tangled mess of thoughts in her mind, ready to pour it all out.

“That day… what happened that day, I… I didn’t mean for it to go that way, I really—”

Only then did Terian glance back at her and speak.

“You, my lady, could help me instead.”

His words were wrapped in civility, but his tone was colder than any winter wind.

Larie flinched at the sharpness. She wanted to run, but she forced herself to stay rooted in place, wringing out the last of her strength just to remain standing.

“Live as if you don’t exist. Stop acting in ways that demand attention.”

“Please… please just listen to me…”

However, he continued to spit out his words like they were something foul on his tongue. The faint flame of hope that had flickered on Larie’s face as she had hurriedly opened her mouth slowly extinguished.

“Do nothing. Just do nothing.”

With those cold words, Terian brushed off Larie’s hand from his coat.

“…”

It had been so long since she last saw him wearing gloves. That faint, fleeting thought dissolved into helplessness almost immediately.

Without another word, Terian turned away once more. And just like that day at the Imperial Ball—after declaring, “I don’t want a child with you… not anymore.”—he walked away without ever looking back.

Larie could only stand there silently, watching his resolute steps disappear. Her fingers, the ones he had brushed off, felt completely numb, as if frozen.

“…”

She remained rooted to the spot for a long time, unmoving as if she were carved from stone.

A few people passed by—probably servants—but Larie couldn’t summon the will to care about their gazes. She faintly sensed the warning in her head: People will talk again if they see you like this. But even that thin sliver of reason had no strength left in her to act on it.

“Ah…”

She didn’t know how much time had passed before her legs finally began to move again. It was only after blinking several times that she realized she’d somehow made her way out of the mansion.

By the time she regained her senses, she was standing in the forest behind the grand estate.

As always, the lush greenery welcomed her with its quiet, encompassing embrace. The sky was still pouring rain.

“…”

Her legs, soaked and heavy with water, continued moving. Step by step, they carried her to the towering zelkova tree that had stood since the estate’s earliest days.

The tree stretched up to the heavens. Larie tilted her head back unconsciously, as if trying to follow its endless height, and cold raindrops slid down her cheeks.

Too exhausted to stand any longer, Larie wrapped her arms around the old tree and simply held on.

She wanted to stop it—anything, somehow. But everything her parents set out to do always came to pass. No matter how much pain Larie suffered along the way.

Whether it was the weight of despair or the chill of the rain, her body began to tremble violently. Tragically, just as she had come to recognize the new life growing inside her, Larie found herself face to face with death—here, in the rain-soaked forest, so rich with the scent of life.

‘What am I supposed to do…’

Without thinking, Larie wrapped her arms around her belly. Her trembling hands were so cold they felt like they belonged to someone else.

‘Our child… no, my child…’

She felt such deep pity. For herself, and for this child—unwanted by anyone.

She had never wanted to be born a Trompériee. And yet the world saw her as nothing but that—nothing more, nothing less.

The same would be true for this child. She couldn’t even be sure if the baby would survive. And if it did… it would likely live a life as dreadful as hers.

Even Terian wouldn’t love this child.

‘So pitiful…’

She inhaled deeply, and the sobs in her chest trembled all the way to her lungs.

Only once the scent of forest and rain filled her entirely did Larie finally turn back toward the estate.

Toward where Terian was.

“…”

Even in death, she would be nothing but a burden to him. All her attempts to change her reality had crumbled like autumn leaves.

There was nowhere to ask for help. Not even the gods would save her.

So there was only one thing left she could do.

‘Just live as if you don’t exist.’

His cold words echoed like a solemn answer, sending ripples through her heart.

“…”

As if possessed, Larie turned her back on the mansion.

Without once looking behind her, she walked blindly forward. She knew she was being foolish, acting on impulse—but she couldn’t stop herself.

Her gaze shifted toward the deepest part of the forest—somewhere she had never dared to go before.

If there was no petition bearing her signature, the council wouldn’t convene. A signature could be forged, of course—but Larie herself, the one who would have to read it aloud, would not be there.

And if she wasn’t there, the accusations directed at Terian wouldn’t even begin to take shape.

Even in death, it would be better if she were not found within the estate.

“Haa… haa…”

What began as slow steps turned into a full sprint. Her heaving breaths were soon overtaken by the lush scent of the forest as she ran.

‘If I just disappear… everything will be solved.’

With that thought, Larie dove headlong into the arms of the forest without a moment’s hesitation.

The sound of her frantic, squelching steps in the muddy earth was drowned by the heavy rain. It was a pitiful, clumsy escape—but the forest embraced her all the same, as if saying it was enough.

It was the kind of day when the rain poured so hard, you couldn’t see even a hand in front of you.