Chapter 1: Consummation on the Night of the New Moon (8)

“That issue stems solely from the lack of guards stationed at the midway outposts. If we had enough manpower, then already—”

“Hah, wasn’t it His Majesty’s sacred order to reduce the numbers? Are you now questioning His Majesty’s decisions?”

During the height of the war, the Emperor hadn’t even realized Tromperie’s betrayal. Worse, he’d accepted bribes from them. The cost of that ignorance was Terian’s father’s life—his own brother.

And the Emperor knew full well that Terian was aware of these facts. That made the Emperor’s seething fury all the more incomprehensible—unworthy of being taken seriously.

“More importantly, it is sacrilegious to let those iron beasts run through our sacred grain fields! Do you know what damage they may cause to hallowed ground?”

“To still speak of such things when even the mythical beings have long vanished—what an archaic view!”

After receiving the diagnosis of his infertility, the Emperor had begun to increase his number of concubines. As the late Grand Duke of Avnir became more revered by the empire’s people, the Emperor’s hatred toward Terian only deepened—as if he would rather destroy himself than ever let Terian take the throne.

Terian thought it was all terribly foolish. He had no interest in the throne. If anything, he wished the Emperor would somehow miraculously produce an heir.

And yet the Emperor stubbornly refused even the Emperor-faction’s suggestion of bringing in a distant relative to name as crown prince. With his deteriorating health, that would’ve been the most logical path if he truly wanted to keep Terian in check.

In the end, it was mere bravado. He didn’t want to admit any of it—Terian’s competence, the empire’s defeat, or his own congenital flaws.

“Therefore, until we’re more certain, the expansion of the rail line into the Bordi region should be postponed…”

“However, reducing our dependence on blue coal even slightly would be…”

“Blue coal isn’t some seed of evil—don’t you think that’s a bit excessive…?”

What on earth were they all thinking?

Overwhelmed by a sudden wave of fatigue, Terian irritably ran a hand through his hair. Outside the window, the lush green of the imperial palace garden caught his eye.

And there, beneath such verdant trees—he recalled Larie’s silver hair, blending into the scene like a forest nymph.

Her vivid green eyes that glowed even in the darkness.

“……”

The more he thought, the more he couldn’t shake the suspicion that Tromperie was plotting something once again.

When he first heard the news, Terian had been ready to storm off and confront Larie immediately. But as the national assembly dragged on into attritional debate, his thoughts slowly changed.

Until he knew exactly what Tromperie was after, it would be better to ignore it.

With a renewed sense of disgust, Terian pushed aside the green-tinted thoughts.

***

It had already been five days since Larie collapsed and was seen by the physician.

“This place hasn’t changed. Still makes me sick,”

Gafel muttered, lounging across the grand, antique couch unique to the Grand Duke’s mansion.

Larie said nothing to her brother’s contemptuous words. Unlike her parents who visited weekly, Gafel only came occasionally. But on the days he did, she had to brace herself with tense, withdrawn shoulders.

Even draped in expensive fabrics, Gafel exuded his usual sinister aura. Larie knew his reputation in society wasn’t great.

“So, it failed?”

“Yeah. Security was tighter than expected.”

“Those idiotic mercenaries—couldn’t even take down one target.”

Larie sat like a statue throughout her father and brother’s conversation.

But inwardly, her mind was racing. She had worried the Grand Duchess might disregard the information she’d offered because of her recent collapse, but thankfully, it seemed the estate had been well-guarded.

While feeling a flicker of secret relief, Gafel suddenly turned and stared at her.

“You. You didn’t blab anything to Avnir, did you?”

Startled by the sudden accusation directed at her, Larie flinched. But she quickly lowered her gaze, pretending it didn’t affect her.

Her brother’s condescending glare was always hard to bear.

“No. His Grace… I haven’t even seen his face in a while.”

In truth, she hadn’t encountered Terian since the incident. She had worried he might come in a fury after hearing she’d taken poison, but he hadn’t shown himself.

As if nothing had happened.

“Hah.”

Gafel, who had been closely observing her expression, let out a loud, mocking laugh. Larie’s shoulders tensed at the ominous sound.

“Is this b*tch scheming again?”

Her heart pounded. Could he have found out that she’d spoken to the Grand Duchess?

The tension made it feel like her heart would burst. As she cautiously clenched her sweat-drenched palms, her father opened his mouth.

“How did they know we’d target that place at this timing…?”

It wasn’t a question thrown at Larie out of suspicion. Rather, he looked deeply lost in thought, as if he hadn’t even heard Gafel’s earlier words.

As if it never crossed his mind that she might have the power to resist him.

“Well, it’s not impossible they were prepared. You’ve been raising flags constantly in the state council meetings.”

Gafel, seemingly tossing out the remark without much thought, lounged across the sofa in a lazy sprawl. Larie quietly hid her trembling hands within her skirts.

“If it weren’t for that sly old fox, we could’ve pushed harder.”

“What, isn’t he just asking for more money?”

“I already gave him a gold mine to bring the child over… Greedy bastard.”

The one they spoke of was none other than the emperor. At first, Larie hadn’t known who they were referring to, but recently she had begun to realize.

The two men spoke words that bordered on treason against the emperor—and did so without hesitation, right here in the Grand Duke’s drawing room.

At first, she couldn’t understand. Why would they discuss such critical matters in a place that was practically enemy territory?

Later, she came to realize their intentions were even more twisted than she’d imagined. It was all for the thrill of humiliating the Grand Duchy from within Avnir’s walls.

“If that’s the case, we should just steal those blueprints…”

Muttering quietly, her father turned his gaze to Larie. Earlier, his eyes had looked past her like she was air—now, they were different.

A calculating look, as if weighing the value of an object.

Nothing good ever came from that look. Her father had worn that exact expression when he ordered her to marry into this house.

A cold shiver of unease ran down Larie’s back, and sweat beaded along her spine.

“Even the refreshments are trash.”

Crossing his legs and shifting his posture, Gafel grumbled as he kicked the table between them hard. The force knocked it into Larie’s knees, painfully jarring her.

From the moment they arrived, he had threatened the servants to bring tea. But clearly, it had just been an excuse to provoke—he hadn’t taken a single sip before tipping it all out onto the floor.

“This one’s not bad though. Try it, Gafel.”

Their mother, who had been quietly sitting all this time, pushed a dish of desserts toward him.

In all her life, Larie had never once been offered food by her mother. Even today, her mother extended not a sweet, but a pill.

“You take this one.”

Larie blankly stared at the jet-black pill offered before her. She felt something inside her crumble and fall into an endless abyss.

With trembling hands, she accepted it. The physician’s warning—that it could be poison—gnawed at her thoughts.

“…Mother, the first time I took this… it hurt, my stomach…”

It couldn’t be. As awful as her family was, surely they wouldn’t go so far as to poison her.

What if the medicine had changed? Would her mother check if she mentioned the pain?

That foolish hope shattered instantly.

“Pain, you say?”

“Yes.”

“Goodness gracious…! Can’t you even endure that much? Always whining about nothing.”

Her mother’s cutting words came without even a breath in between, and it felt like Larie’s heart had been torn to shreds.

It wasn’t just that much pain. Even with her high pain tolerance, it had been so bad she’d needed to seek out the forest again for the first time in a while.

A wave of injustice and sorrow surged within her, and she couldn’t hold it in. Without realizing, she opened her mouth, wanting to object.

“How much pain—?”

But her voice caught in her throat, as if someone were choking her.

“…It’s just…”

The sound of Gafel’s voice beside her jolted her back to her senses. He was grinning, clearly amused. That twisted smile made her stomach churn violently.

If she admitted how much pain she was in, they would surely interrogate her. Ask if she had seen a doctor.

If she told them a doctor had said something about the medicine, then what…?

“…It was just a little more than last time…”

In the end, Larie had no choice but to stammer and downplay the pain. Her mother responded coldly, as if it wasn’t even worth listening to.

“Whatever it is, just endure it.”

“…Yes.”

Her gaze dropped to the floor like a collapsing hope. It felt as though her entire body had been shattered.

“Larie. You will attend the upcoming banquet with the Grand Duke.”

Her father, who had been deep in thought, suddenly spoke up. Once again, it was an order she didn’t understand.

Larie rarely attended banquets or tea gatherings. Before marriage, it was because they didn’t want her “tainted by the outside.” After marriage, it was to emphasize her poor relationship with Terian to society.

Was it because the upcoming banquet was the Emperor’s birthday celebration and skipping it would be problematic?

“Yes… I will.”

Her thoughts felt unusually hazy today. The pill resting heavily in her hand kept interfering with her ability to think.

“She’s acting strange today,” came her mother’s sharp voice, snapping Larie back to herself just enough to speak quickly.

“I’m sorry. I’m just feeling a bit out of it…”

But the excuse, spoken without much thought, instantly sharpened the gazes of the three others in the room.

“What?”

“Pardon…?”

What had she done wrong now? Her dry throat felt as if it might let out a wheezing sound.

Her mother, setting her teacup down, asked lightly as if it were no big deal.

“Are you getting more sleep these days?”

The tone was gentle, but an eerie chill crept over Larie all the same. Masking herself with a blank expression like armor, she answered firmly.

“No. It’s not that. I think this medicine just… has that kind of effect.”

Her mother’s gaze swept over her body as if assessing the truth of her claim. To keep herself from trembling, Larie bit down on the inside of her cheek.

“If you think you might be pregnant, you must tell me. Understood?”

“…Yes.”

Of course—it was the signs of pregnancy that had them so on edge. The prediction proving true brought an even deeper wave of emptiness crashing over Larie.

Why do they hate the idea of my child being born so much?

Why do they hate me so much?

“What’re you waiting for? Eat it,” Gafel said casually, eyes on the pill in her palm, wearing that same crooked smile.

For the past five days, Larie had agonized over whether to confess that she had seen a doctor. She had wondered if admitting it first might make them less angry.

But now, in this moment, Larie instinctively decided to keep her mouth shut.

“……”

Her hand, still holding the pill, trembled faintly. In the end, she powerlessly placed the bitter medicine in her mouth.