Chapter 88: A Doll-Like Wife

It rained throughout Princess Charlotte’s funeral.

The Emperor never came. He had only shown affection because she had obeyed him well. Now that she was dead, she held no further value to him.

Perhaps that was why Charlotte seemed to have known that he only cherished her because she resembled Empress Anastasia—it made Edelweiss’s heart ache.

A few days after the funeral, Edelweiss visited Princess Charlotte’s bedroom for the first time.

She stepped carefully across the floor, on her tiptoes.

The moment she opened the door, a familiar lavender scent tickled her nose.

It was the scent that lingered when Charlotte spread her arms and asked for a hug.

It felt as if Charlotte were still alive.

As if she would come running from afar, laughing, wrap her arms around Edelweiss’s waist, and chatter endlessly.

Her heart sank.

There was no way to soothe the surge of emotion.

A place once filled with lively, innocent laughter was now eerily silent.

Only the dust floating through the sunlight beyond the window showed any trace of life.

Edelweiss spotted a handkerchief peeking from a slightly open drawer.

When she pulled out the neatly folded cloth, she saw crooked embroidery along its seams.

“Edelweiss flower” was stitched in uneven letters.

Though Charlotte had always said embroidery was hard and boring and gave up easily, she had been secretly working on this behind the scenes.

‘…Did she want to give this to me?’

Thinking about how Charlotte had stubbornly clung to the handkerchief despite the difficulty, Edelweiss gently brushed her fingers over the threads.

A few sections had already come undone.

The unfinished stitches captured the fleeting, short life that Princess Charlotte had lived.

A single tear quietly welled up and fell.

Behind the drawer was a hidden drawing.

Only the background was completed.

Everything Charlotte had touched seemed to freeze in time.

‘Sis! How do I look? Aren’t I cute?’

Charlotte’s voice echoed in her ears, and Edelweiss quickly lifted her head and looked around.

Charlotte, spinning in a frilly yellow dress, vanished like an illusion the moment Edelweiss reached out.

Charlotte appeared everywhere.

In the dining room, the image of her eating strawberry cake with it smeared on her lips.

In the garden, the memory of her playing with a baby parrot.

But the hallucinations vanished just as quickly, tormenting Edelweiss.

She didn’t want to accept that Charlotte was dead, but moments like this forced her to face it.

“…Your Grace. The royal physician has arrived.”

“Grand Duchess Lorendel.”

Anna, who had approached cautiously, stood beside the palace physician.

The Emperor, who had sent word through the chief attendant wishing for a safe delivery, continued to send the royal physician to the Ruer Villa.

He had ordered that Edelweiss receive an examination once a day.

‘He’s probably considering the possibility that the child in my womb resembles Empress Anastasia.’

It was repulsive—so clear now that he had only seen Charlotte as a replacement for the Empress.

Still, she couldn’t refuse someone personally sent by the Emperor.

It was better to get the examination over with quickly.

Edelweiss sat weakly in a chair.

Suppressing the urge to vomit from the sheer disgust she felt toward the Emperor’s intentions, she held out her wrist.

The royal physician touched her wrist and frowned with a look of concern.

“Your Grace, have you been eating?”

“…”

As she didn’t answer, the physician looked toward Anna.

“She’s still eating, but…” Anna began cautiously.

For days, she had tried eating, but the food wouldn’t go down. Even when she forced herself, she’d end up throwing it up.

She knew this wasn’t good for the baby, but her sorrow simply wouldn’t lift.

“Your Grace, you’ve lost too much weight. If this continues, you’ll be in danger during childbirth.”

“…I’ll be careful.”

“Would you consider resting elsewhere for a while?”

“…Resting?”

“Yes. The psychological stress may be weakening your energy. A temporary change in environment might help your mood.”

It was true—being in the Ruer Villa was becoming increasingly painful.

Being around Damian was also uncomfortable.

Since Charlotte’s death, he buried himself in work in his office or went to the military academy to train cadets, constantly pushing his body to the limit.

He didn’t even cry at the funeral.

Seeing him act as if Charlotte had never existed tore her apart.

Each time she saw his back, as if he was holding himself together just to avoid falling apart, she wanted to flee the room.

She couldn’t tell if what welled up inside her was pity or resentment.

The only reason Damian had agreed to marry her in the first place was because of Charlotte.

Now that Charlotte was dead, and he didn’t even believe the child was his…

Wouldn’t he eventually ask for a divorce?

Edelweiss was far too exhausted to deal with that—she just wanted to postpone that moment.

“…Anna.”

“Y-Yes, Your Grace. Please speak.”

“Pack for the Marquisate of Blossomweaver. I’ll be staying there for a while.”

“Understood, Your Grace…”

The royal physician repeatedly advised her to get enough sleep, take in sunlight, and go on walks.

After he left, Edelweiss changed her clothes and finished preparing to go out.

She went downstairs and lightly knocked on the door of Damian’s office.

“…Come in.”

At his permission, she opened the door and stepped inside.

His face looked gaunt, as if he hadn’t slept properly.

“What is it?”

Still flipping through reports as if nothing were wrong, he asked.

“…I’d like to stay at the Marquisate of Blossomweaver until the baby is born. The royal physician recommended I get some rest. I’ll continue my checkups there.”

Damian’s hand froze at that moment. He took off the glasses he had been wearing and rubbed his forehead before looking at Edelweiss.

Without realizing it, Edelweiss dropped her gaze. Her body reacted instinctively, recalling the way he had stared at her that day—so cold, so indifferent.

“…Do as you wish.”

When Charlotte was still alive, spending time with Damian hadn’t felt so suffocating. But now, it was more stifling than ever.

She was too exhausted even to resent him anymore.

“…When are you leaving?” he asked in a low, subdued voice.

“I’m packing now… I’ll leave once I’m ready.”

“Will you be coming back?”

Edelweiss didn’t answer his question.

No, she couldn’t.

Damian didn’t bother breaking the short silence either. As if the question had been asked out of formality, he just nodded faintly.

Then he stood up and moved away from his desk.

“…I have somewhere to be, so I’ll go first.”

His hand moved slowly as he lowered his rolled-up sleeves and adjusted the cuff buttons.

Straightening his disheveled cravat, Damian walked out of the office.

The door closed, and silence fell once more.

***

Damian’s gaze slowly swept across the formation. Under the scorching sun, the cadets of the military academy stood at full attention within the training grounds.

The cadets maintained a steady breath and composed posture, unable to even think of wiping the sweat from their brows.

But to Damian’s eyes, even the slightest tremble was obvious.

“Third row, second from the right. Foot angle.”

His eyes met with a cadet who had the same green eyes as Edelweiss.

Damian turned his head away and slowly held his breath.

Since Charlotte’s death, Edelweiss rarely met his eyes.

Truthfully, he wanted to tell her not to go.

But his lips stayed shut—no voice came out.

Her grief-laced plea echoed in his ears: that she hadn’t done anything shameful in front of their child.

Damian knew she wasn’t the kind of person who would.

And yet, he couldn’t stop thinking about Adolf, who had shown concern for her, and Vincent Leme, who had given her an anklet at the coming-of-age ceremony.

The letter’s words—about a marriage she didn’t want.

That she was sad to raise another man’s child while pretending it was his.

And the final sentence, saying she would wait for a reply—he couldn’t suppress the boiling fury it stirred.

It was strange. He couldn’t understand himself.

He didn’t even love her.

All he had wanted… was a doll-like wife in name only.