Chapter 11 – Part 9

Tenere Evan.

She was a beautiful woman who took after her mother, but she was always quiet and reserved, so she was not noticed.

When Beatrice met the person who became empress, she thought that she was exactly like her.

Most notably, she hid her fear with a smile.

“Greetings, Your Majesty.”

It wasn’t hard to guess what anxiety the polite lady was carrying.

She would probably experience the emotions that her younger self had felt.

Moreover, she hadn’t lived peacefully even in her own home.

“Don’t worry, …… I’ll be there to help you.”

Uttering those words, Beatrice felt a surge of emotions.

How good it would have been if someone had said those words to her back then.

She wished she had someone to support her and help her stand up for herself when she didn’t know what to do.

Looking at Tenere, who smiled without any trace of distress, Beatrice felt a little greedy.

She knew she was a sinner and that it was uncaring and shameless of her to want something, but she didn’t want to create someone like her.

Needless to say, Tenere was prone to mistakes. It was not surprising, since she was so observant without even trying.

Beatrice never got angry or impatient with her because her reflection was as familiar as a mirror.

She praised her for every little thing she did as if she were a child, and whenever she heard that her father, Ludwig Evan, was coming to visit, she would put aside her duties and go to see him.

It wasn’t without its frustrations, but she couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride when she saw the woman who had bowed her head and stared at her every time she saw her raise her head.

Every time she tried to do something, even if it was clumsy or unexpected, she felt happy, like watching a child take its first steps.

But could the human heart be so ugly, or was it just her own ugliness?

Beatrice sometimes hated Tenere, who smiled so innocently and without a trace of hurt.

Especially when she saw her side-by-side with her son.

“I thought I should ask His Majesty’s permission about the embroidery, but I must have misspoken, for I believe he has offered to help me…….”

At first, she thought it was just a joke when she saw her son come to the palace to keep his word.

But as she saw him coming every week, she began to feel a strange emotion welling up within her.

Watching him struggle with tying knots, then eventually giving up and leaving with both hands raised, and seeing Tenere laugh softly. 

Why does that peaceful scene bother her so much…?

It’s because she knows her son’s purpose.

Treating his wife with great affection, seeking her out on days that aren’t even special, having meals together for no reason, engaging in conversation together…

It’s all about trying not to be like his father.

So that person, who is so much like her, won’t be unhappy. She won’t experience the same things she does.

She won’t be ignored by anyone, she won’t have to be angry with anyone, and she’ll be able to live her life as a compassionate and gentle empress.

Every time she realized that, Beatrice was reminded of her unredeemed youth.

‘I hate you. I hate you for being so unharmed, and I hate you for having so easily what my younger self did not have.’

If only she had a husband as loving as him.

‘If only I had someone to protect me from being ignored by anyone, I could have done better than you.’

‘I’m not old enough to be senile’

Whenever hatred and jealousy threatened to overtake her, Beatrice had to remind herself to stay sane.

Let’s not become ugly adults. Let’s not commit any more sins.

This unfairness isn’t her fault, so let’s not hate more people. She repeated it to herself.

Sometimes, when she discovered an undeniable affection in those eyes looking at her, she couldn’t help but think.

‘No, it’s not you; it’s me who’s hateful. I’m hateful for envying your happiness, for not being able to easily dismiss these vile thoughts.’

On days when it’s hard to suppress the bad feelings, Beatrice inevitably seeks solace.

While looking at a statue carved with the face of the deceased, she muttered to herself.

“It’s all because of you.”

Even though she knew no one would answer her, Beatrice spoke in a whiny voice.

“You’re the reason I have such an ugly heart.”

Whether alive or dead, he made her feel lonely.

The person she should resent, who should have stayed longer to be blamed for her sorrow, left early, leaving her to harbor resentment towards someone like a daughter.

Even if he did love her, would anything change?

In the end, he left without repaying anything.

“In fact, you hated me too, right? That’s why you tried to leave without saying anything.”

No, perhaps he disclosed everything and left because he wanted to torment her.

He left himself free, making her miss him even more.

Why do only the memories of his final moments come to her, as if the sadness from before never existed?

Why is it so unfair that the only emotion he left for her was longing?

He had been acting like a jerk for about twenty years, and he needed to pay him back.

No, it didn’t match, but still, he never cast his eyes on another woman, so if she had earnestly depended on him for a year or two, maybe that would have been enough.

Then, as he said, she would have held his hand, taken her for walks, and traveled with him.

He would have urged his grown son to take the throne sooner rather than later and engaged in late lovemaking.

She wonders if this is because he left so soon.

He left without repaying her for her sorrow, and that’s why she has such an ugly heart.

‘So it’s not my fault. It’s all your fault.’ 

Even if she forced her resentment, the deceased couldn’t offer a single excuse.

As time passed, both the hatred and resentment diluted, and what filled their place was the longing she couldn’t erase.

She blamed and resented him for everything, and then apologized, saying that she was at least partly to blame.

Then she’d cry to herself and mutter that if he were good, she wouldn’t have done it.

And so a year passed, then two…

“Now you’re doing great without me.”

Tenere had grown accustomed to her duties and was able to handle imperial events without Beatrice’s help. For her teacher, it was a gratifying development.

“That’s thanks to all you’ve taught me.”

For some reason, her calm voice sounded so sweet.

As the unworthy jealousy faded away, she thought, “How fortunate it is even if someone like you has what I never had.”

And when she realized she could manage well without her, she felt relieved.

At that moment, Beatrice suddenly thought.

Ah.

‘I can die now.’

‘I can go to your side in peace.’

And.

* * *

Beatrice’s diary ended there.

Tenere stared blankly at the empty paper. Although she had seen it with her own eyes, she couldn’t easily believe it.

“So…….”

Tenere covered her face and took a deep breath in and out.

‘You were planning to die from the start…….’

Is that why she refused to let her help her prepare for the trip and prepared herself from start to finish?

She didn’t want her to find herself embroiled in unnecessary suspicion after her death.

‘I wonder if His Majesty knows.’

Should she say it? If he already knew or if he didn’t.

She wonders if she’ll be digging up old wounds.

Or would it be unnecessary to speak about something he didn’t know just to hurt him?

However, amidst her worries, she couldn’t ignore the reality right in front of her.

Duke Salvatore’s words were true. He could indeed be Leonard’s father.

“It was my mother who carried and gave birth to me, so how would I know who my father is?”

She realized what he had meant.

He didn’t realize that he’d said it to gauge her reaction and see if I would accept it.

“You should trust her, Your Majesty.”

Tenere did not know the look on her face when she blurted it out, knowing nothing.

Or how he must have nodded as he spoke, unaware.

“……Leon.”

A frustrated sigh escaped from between the hands covering her face.

She shouldn’t even have said it. She shouldn’t let herself get emotional over words asking her not to care.

Tenere sat with her face covered for a long time. Pity and embarrassment, guilt and regret.

The dizzying jumble of emotions all pointed in one direction.

She had to go see him.

She had to meet him right away.

Tenere carefully packed up the diary and letters and got up.

She hugged the tightly closed box to her chest.