She clenched her cold hands tightly.

It was something she had anticipated the moment she agreed to marry Hendrick.

Forgetting entirely that Henrietta stood before them as Crown Princess, the Ingram girl raised her voice even further.

“And to think she was once nothing more than a governess in the Schutzman household.”

Henrietta closed her eyes slowly. It was only natural that there could be no real contest between Schutzman, who had married the legitimate daughter of Protestanto, and Hendrick, who had married the illegitimate child of Osborne.

Even if she now bore the Osborne name, she could not deny her origins.

When it came to bloodline, the judgment of nobles always stood above the law.

And yet, even in the face of such an undeniable reality, Henrietta kept denying it within herself.

That man would find a way to win even while carrying the immense weakness that was her.

“Mind your words, Countess Juan. This is not something to be discussed in front of Her Highness.”

Once again, the Viscountess of Bennington stepped in to restore order.

Her firm tone silenced the room—for a moment.

But at the table where the younger women sat, the mood seemed different.

“Still, people fear the wrath of God.”

“That’s true. Ever since the saint died under such mysterious circumstances, the atmosphere has only grown more ominous.”

The saint they were talking about was Saint Sophia, a holy woman whom the Pope had proclaimed to be the first divine being to return to the world in a thousand years.

However, people did not believe that she possessed miraculous powers.

To them, she was a source of comfort.

They saw her as a gift from God, appearing after the long conflict between the Old Faith and the New had finally ended — proof that the Baron still remained under divine grace.

Very little was known about her origins, but the Holy See declared that she was the youngest daughter of a poor serf.

It was said that someone had followed a path revealed by the stars and found the saint there.

And so began the story of the holy woman.

On All Saints’ Day, the Pope presented her to the public.

Still innocent and beautiful, Sophia captivated people with her presence.

Her mere presence brought them a sense of peace and reassurance.

Moreover, she possessed an extraordinary talent for painting sacred images.

The Pope declared this to be another gift and blessing from God.

As a result, she was granted the rare privilege of painting murals in the grand cathedral of the Holy See.

However, shortly after entering the Vatican, she died in mysterious circumstances.

Her death caused profound sorrow and unease among the people of the Empire, who had longed to see her work in person.

The Holy See declared that this tragedy was a divine warning that the forces of unrest would rise again soon.

“And who’s to say something just as dreadful won’t happen again?”

By ‘back then’, they meant a time when religious conflict had spiraled out of control.

People feared that Hendrick’s rise might reignite the same clash between the Old Faith and the New.

Furthermore, his actions did not align with the will of the nobility.

The scars left by those religious conflicts ran deeper than anyone cared to admit.

It was only after coming to this salon that Henrietta truly understood just how anxious noble society had become.

To those bound by the rigid divide between nobles and commoners, a prince raised in a foreign land was an unknown quantity — someone who could easily be seen as an enemy.

Mockery would have been easier to endure.

Cold, refined disdain hidden behind polite smiles would have been far simpler.

If they had merely implied that she did not belong there, she could have responded with a quiet smile and left without saying anything.

But this was no longer a petty quarrel among women.

No matter how carefully she carried herself, it would do nothing to help Hendrick against this kind of opposition.

Henrietta straightened her back, rose to her feet, and stood perfectly composed.

She had already decided that staying there would be of no benefit to her.

All eyes turned to her at once.

She lifted her chin just a little higher.

“His Majesty the Emperor…”

She paused briefly, steadying her breath.

Hiding her trembling hands within the folds of her skirt, she forced a calm smile to her lips.

‘I am, above all, Hendrick von Ansonaisen’s wife—and the Crown Princess of this empire. Whether you acknowledge that or not does not matter to me. And so, I have no reason to endure this baseless malice and insult any longer.’

“If His Majesty were to learn that matters concerning the imperial family are spoken of so lightly… he would be deeply disappointed.”

The unexpected response widened the women’s eyes.

They exchanged glances, trying to grasp the situation.

Ignoring their unease, Henrietta turned her gaze directly toward the youngest daughter of the Ingram family.

“Especially you—Countess Juan.”

At once, the attention of the entire hall shifted to her.

“Your recklessness toward the imperial family is enough to make even me uneasy. Since this occurred among women, I will not formally report it this time. However… I advise you to be more careful in the future—so long as the Juan family remains within the capital.”

Henrietta swept her gaze across the room, then straightened herself once more.

“I will take my leave now. Rather than wasting time consumed by such needless fears, I believe it would be far more beneficial for me to spend that time in prayer.”

The women were unable to conceal their shock, their faces now flushed with anger.

Henrietta glanced at them once more, then turned and walked away.

Only after she arrived at the Lorenzo Salon did she realize how ashamed she was of herself for wanting nothing more than to hide behind Hendrick.

He had endured all of this alone.

She still didn’t know what to do or how to act.

But one thing was certain: she could no longer allow herself to be a burden to him.

What had begun as a means of escaping Robert had now become a battle she had chosen to fight alone.

She wanted to prove that Hendrick’s choice had not been a mistake — not because she was weak, but because she could offer him support, however small.

She wanted to stand beside him, at least until he reached the future he longed for.

If she could do that, she believed that, even when the final moment came, she would be able to smile.

Henrietta continued to walk towards her husband, one step at a time.

But her pace and resolve came to an abrupt halt.

She had caught sight of something she should never have seen.

‘W-what is this…?’

It was her own etiquette book, published under the pen name Dunlop, that left her frozen in shock.

It felt as though all the blood had drained from her fingertips, leaving her body feeling weak.

Why was this book here?

She didn’t want to burden Hendrick with even the slightest thing right now.

No matter how she thought about it, it made no sense.

This book was intended for the middle classes, so why was it in the Lorenzo Salon?

Not just anywhere — it was on display in the long gallery, frequented by the highest nobility.

The first thing she had done upon returning to Haytesfield after her marriage in Sersenfers was to stop its distribution.

Though not every copy had been retrieved, it was no longer easily found.

With trembling hands, Henrietta reached out and picked up the book.

Just then, someone approached her from behind.

“A pretty convincing imitation, wouldn’t you say?”

The voice sent a chill down the back of her neck, goosebumps rising before anything else.

Then, a sickening scent of roses drifted toward her.

“Perhaps it’s because you’re a fake yourself—you’ve done quite a good job dressing up something fake.”

“…Edna.”

“It’s been a while, Henrietta. Or should I say—Your Highness, the Crown Princess now?”

As the fiancée of the Duke of Schutzman, she had naturally assumed that she would be invited.

However, Henrietta had hoped that they wouldn’t cross paths and, if they did, that they would simply pass one another by.

Given what had happened before, she thought Edna would do the same.

“You must be wondering why such a ridiculous book is here.”

Slowly, Henrietta turned to face her. Edna’s dark, lifeless eyes gleamed—like a cat that had already caught its prey.

“There you are. I thought you might have already left. I heard you had stepped out in a hurry.”

At that moment, Countess Lorenzo approached them in haste. Her gaze moved between Henrietta and Edna, quietly assessing the tension in the air.

Henrietta forced her trembling lips into the faintest smile, trying to appear calm.

“His Highness is waiting for me outside.”

“Yes, I heard.”

Now standing close enough to see clearly, Countess Lorenzo let her gaze fall to the book in Henrietta’s hands.

“Ah, so you were looking at the etiquette book Lady Osborne brought.”

Henrietta slowly closed her eyes. When she opened them again, Edna was wearing a smile of misplaced modesty.

“Exactly. Even I don’t know why I brought this book. I was worried it might only tarnish your reputation, Countess.”

“Oh, not at all. I admit, at first I found your request to display it rather puzzling. An etiquette book for the middle class? The phrase itself sounds contradictory, doesn’t it?”

Henrietta managed an awkward smile.

There was nothing else she could do.

All she could do was pray for this moment to end as quickly as possible.

“But after reading it, I changed my mind.”

“…Did you?”

“Yes, very much so. It’s surprisingly useful. It organizes so many rules of decorum that people often forget precisely because they’re so familiar. I even thought it would make an excellent guide for teaching children.”

“I see.”

At Edna’s polite reply, the countess continued,

“That’s why I’ve been thinking of meeting this author, Dunlop. But for some reason, I haven’t been able to get in touch with the publisher. All I’ve heard is that he is on an extended holiday.”

“My, the publisher really ought to know.”

Slowly, Edna turned toward Henrietta.

Their eyes met, and she smiled beautifully.

That perfectly measured smile sent a chill crawling up the back of Henrietta’s neck.

“He has no idea how important an opportunity he’s letting slip away.”

As she stepped out of the long gallery, Henrietta tried desperately to steady her thoughts.

It wasn’t that she had forgotten about the book.

It was just that, after the imperial banquet, Robert had made no further move.

This was his way of warning her that he had no intention of letting her go.

He had even used his own fiancée to deliver it.

The moment she stepped through the estate’s entrance, she saw the carriage waiting in the distance, its eagle crest gleaming with quiet authority.

Henrietta walked towards the man inside.

One thought consumed her all the while: what consequences this would bring upon him.

For now, she couldn’t afford to jump to conclusions.

She moved forward with a calm expression, though her heart was racing beneath it, as though she were trying to prop up a collapsing roof.

By the time she reached the carriage, Hendrick had already stepped out.

He opened the door for her himself and smiled.

Thankfully, she was able to return his smile just as naturally.