“Your Majesty.”

“Just go back. Ann is fine now.”

“You know I didn’t come because of her.”

“Then?”

The King asked. His slow gaze was cold and sharp. His violet eyes, steeped in fatigue, resembled rustling fallen leaves.

Perhaps it would have been fine if Ann hadn’t existed. Lennox had always been indifferent to her. He’d been that way since childhood. 

Outwardly he acted affectionate and proper, but there wasn’t a shred of sincerity. All the tenderness he displayed was no different from the attitude she showed as a noble young lady.

He did it because he had to. But…

“How long must I endure Ann?”

Her voice shattered against her burning ears. The murmur, its edges soaked through, sounded mournful. Charlotte stared at the man who gazed blankly at her. She tried not to twist her expression, but in the end everything became useless.

“Why should you have to tolerate her?”

“Your Majesty!”

“I don’t understand what connection there is between you becoming my Queen and me keeping Ann by my side.”

The King muttered while brushing back the hair scattered across his forehead. He seemed annoyed and irritated by everything. Charlotte pulled her chin back, biting her lips. 

The King, who’d rubbed his face tiredly, looked at her again.

“Charlotte.”

“……”

“My parents promised you the position of my Queen. I intend to fulfill that promise properly. Weren’t you promised the status of Queen from the womb?”

The King’s gaze was clear. Charlotte stared at him, frozen stiff. The King was colder than ever. 

She was used to him drawing lines and pushing her outside them, but this feeling of being carved out was a first.

“Even if it weren’t me, you’re the woman who would marry whichever of Father’s sons inherited the throne. But I don’t see what connection fulfilling that promise has with winning my heart.”

Lennox was honest. His brief answer was extremely emotionless and simultaneously blunt. 

Charlotte pressed her lips tightly shut. It wasn’t an unexpected answer. She blinked eyes that had gradually begun to cool. The King tried to pass by her.

“…Ann too.”

“……”

“Did Ann say it was fine too?”

The King turned to look at her. Charlotte smiled crookedly.

“Living as Your Majesty’s mistress, I mean.”

Her dried lips trembled finely. The fiercely blazing joy was sharp like a thorn bush. 

She couldn’t control the laughter that kept poking out. Thinking of Ann living a dishonorable life as the King’s mistress made her want to die laughing. Charlotte burst into laughter.

“It sounds entertaining.”

Charlotte, who’d been laughing aloud, murmured after stopping. Lennox was staring at her like he wanted to kill her.

“I really hope you keep Ann by your side. Because I want to see that wench trapped in my shadow, living as Your Majesty’s shadow.”

Each word, each cold murmur echoed through the room. Lennox quietly watched the woman fill with poison and shatter alone, then turned around. Charlotte glared at the spot where he’d disappeared, then clenched her fists.

* * *

Ann opened her eyes again at noon the next day. She saw a familiar ceiling. It was her bedroom. She felt relieved. If she’d stayed in the King’s bedroom any longer, she wouldn’t have been able to bear it. Though there was nothing she could have done anyway.

Ann knew the King’s affection was sometimes violent. The man who didn’t consider her position at all didn’t really consider anyone’s position.

She thought of Charlotte. Every time she’d briefly opened her eyes, the King had been in front of her. 

Sometimes he’d been holding her hands with both of his, sometimes carefully brushing aside her disheveled hair. Other times he’d kissed her forehead or stroked her cheek.

Displays of affection that couldn’t be explained by the word “friend”… 

She could no longer say those displays of affection were nothing. Because as time passed, Lennox’s expressions of affection grew deeper.

‘I really shouldn’t have done that…’

Ann thought about when the King’s expressions of affection had deepened. Without needing to dwell on it, it was that day. That day… the day she’d slept with the King.

‘How terrible.’

Ann bit her lips. She wanted to crawl into a mouse hole. Memories she couldn’t forget even when she wanted to felt like an unwashable sin.

He was a man who called Ann, whom he’d slept with, his “friend.” In truth, being bound by such a name and living in futile affection was all there was…

Suddenly the door clicked open. It seemed they’d opened it not knowing she’d woken up. She turned her head to look at the woman who’d appeared. It was Ingrid.

“You’re awake.”

Her voice was calm. Ann tried to sit up, struggling.

“It’s fine. Stay lying down.”

Ingrid said, grasping her shoulder and laying her back down. Ann looked at her with a pale face. 

The shadow beneath her neat face was faint but distinct. Ann chose her words carefully. What could she say to soothe her?

“Lennox was very worried about you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“What do you have to be sorry for?”

Ingrid shook her head. Ann couldn’t quite meet her gaze. Because she knew the kindness she displayed wasn’t everything.

Ingrid probably didn’t like that she’d lost consciousness at all. The fact that she’d bound Lennox that way, made him hover around her not knowing what to do—that would be detestable.

“Go to Saphoras once before summer ends.”

“What?”

“You won’t be able to handle the palace gossips.”

“But…”

“By the time you return, the royal wedding preparations will be mostly finished. We’ll hold the ceremony in winter at the latest.”

Ingrid muttered casually. Her attitude of firmly cutting off Ann’s words, showing she wouldn’t listen, was quite stern. If she talked back any more here, she’d become an impudent wench. 

Ann knew Ingrid’s temperament. Though she seemed loving, in truth she was endlessly cold toward her.

Countess Hervonne had said in those young days that she would try to be a good guardian to her. That she would raise her with love like her late mother. So though she couldn’t become her mother, they could be bound by love.

Ann hadn’t entirely believed those words. Ann had already experienced enough of life’s hardships as a young child to believe and depend on an adult’s promise. Still, Ingrid’s maids had consistently tried to be upright guardians.

But Ingrid wasn’t. Ingrid was…

“I’ll do that.”

“Good thinking.”

Ingrid gazed at Ann, who didn’t oppose her. She was a child who’d never once opposed her. 

Yet Ingrid sometimes couldn’t stand Ann. If not for Lennox… If only Lennox’s head hadn’t turned from that overflowing love, Ingrid would have found Ann endearing.

Because she was a child with no reason to hate. But wasn’t it the same with Yvonne? She’d scratched Ingrid without any malice. She’d made her a bad person and simultaneously hurt her. 

What should she do? How could she avoid hating anyone?

But no matter how much she thought, she had no solution. Lennox no longer listened to her. 

Though he’d originally listened to her words with one ear, after coming of age he’d never once obeyed. So there was only one remaining option.

“Do you know Countess Ilva?”

“Countess Ilva…”

“You must have met her.”

“Yes. Though I didn’t see her for long, I met her at Sir Alfiers’s wedding last autumn.”

Ann recalled the middle-aged lady she’d seen last year. She was a noblewoman of small stature with a cheerful personality. Ann thought she knew why Ingrid was mentioning her. Instead of biting her lips, she clenched her fists tightly.

“While you’re at Belvyrund, attend the gatherings the Countess hosts from time to time. I hear the Countess has a young unmarried daughter, so if you spend time together you’ll be able to meet respectable young men.”

Belvyrund referred to the villa the royal family owned in Saphoras. 

The place where she’d spent every summer with Lennox. Ingrid was trying to send Ann there alone. It seemed she planned to push forward with the royal wedding while she was away from the palace.

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“I’ll also look for a husband for you from time to time.”

“Thank you.”

“You don’t know how diligently Helena and Sophia have been working to find you a husband.”

“I know, Your Majesty. I’m so grateful. If only I had better conditions, I could have married without causing more worry…”

“That’s not true. You’re a good enough girl. It’s just…”

Ingrid turned her gaze away. She seemed to be choosing her words. Ann felt needlessly tense. After long deliberation, Ingrid was quite skilled at hurting others casually or indifferently. 

It was a characteristic of noblewomen who’d spent long in court life. Ann was sad that she was such an existence to Ingrid.

Though she knew even the small affection offered in childhood hadn’t been sincere, still, to Ann, Ingrid was the person who’d fed and raised her young self.

“I’m sorry.”