Chapter 4. Not Beaten Enough

The vast Pavlone duchy.

With fields, orchards, mines, and more, there was a substantial amount of work to oversee. The final reports from the tangled web of tasks converged on St. Laurent, where the ducal residence was located.

Scratch, scratch.

Having awakened while everyone else slept, Eunice chose her office rather than returning to bed.

Some might wonder why she was working when she would soon be leaving, but it was something she had done her entire life and couldn’t easily ignore. Perhaps she didn’t want to be accused of leaving irresponsibly.

As she concentrated, the darkness gradually faded. Sensing the busy air stirring outside the door, Eunice looked up. Somehow, the newly bloomed morning sunlight was already streaming through the window bars.

It was her favorite temperature of light.

“Hey, what are you doing?”

It was then that someone entered without knocking. Eunice frowned at the interruption of her peaceful time.

“Sophia, you’re up early.”

Her half-sister Sophia, though a year younger, never addressed her as “sister.”

Aside from the familiar rudeness, she wasn’t one to be awake at this hour. And she especially never set foot in the office.

Normally, her stepmother and half-siblings, who were desperate to torment Eunice, left her alone when she was working. After all, she handled the troublesome estate duties for them.

The reason for this unusual visit was immediately apparent.

“I heard you’re being sold off?”

“…!”

Eunice’s expression hardened at the sudden provocation. Sophia’s eyes curved deeply, as if she had found the perfect opportunity.

“Oh my, it’s true? I just heard it from Philip.”

“…”

“The King of Nordish is famous for being extremely brutal, isn’t he? How is your life so completely bleak? Even in marriage.”

“…And what about you?”

“Me? What about me?”

She arrogantly lifted her chin and began tapping Eunice’s collarbone with her index finger.

“Ah, marriage? Why, do you think I can’t manage it?”

“Who knows.”

Sophia let out a scornful laugh.

“Do you know how many dresses I’ve ordered for this season in Melbourne? Oh, you wouldn’t know. Too busy working.”

“…”

“Do you think we’re the same ‘Lady Pavlone’? You don’t even have a mother.”

“Watch your words.”

But Sophia didn’t stop. Instead, she pressed firmly on Eunice’s collarbone and spewed even more hurtful words.

“Oh, right. You did have something like a mother, didn’t you? That slave-born maid. Was her name Marie? Eeeek!”

“I told you to shut your mouth!”

It happened before reason could intervene.

Eunice forgot all propriety and grabbed Sophia’s hair. Sophia, unwilling to back down, seized a handful of Eunice’s hair in return.

“Ugh!”

“Mother! Father!”

Sophia wailed, calling for Deborah and Rockford. At that moment, Eunice realized that her other half-brother Philip, who should have been in Melbourne, had returned and informed Sophia about her marriage.

Which meant that father too…

“What is all this commotion!”

The thunderous voice came just then. Eunice and Sophia startled and released their grip. Slowly turning their heads, they saw Rockford glaring at his two daughters with disbelieving eyes.

Beside him were Deborah, clicking her tongue, and Philip, watching the fight between his sisters with obvious enjoyment.

* * *

“I’m disappointed.”

These words fell from Rockford’s lips after a long silence. Eunice bowed her head deeply.

Although two people had fought, only Eunice remained in the office. Which meant only Eunice would be reprimanded by her father.

“Did you just decide to leave?”

“No…”

“First you leave Melbourne without a word, and now, as the elder sister, you’re pulling your sister’s hair.”

She had left because of Crown Princess Richen. And Sophia had crossed the line with her words first. But excuses that wouldn’t be accepted anyway only circled in her throat.

It was then that Rockford’s cold voice pierced her heart like a dagger.

“I find it hard to believe you’re the daughter born between me and Solenne.”

“…”

Throb. It felt like blood was flowing from her heart.

Had she ever been so clearly denied her existence by her father before?

To Rockford, Solenne represented sadness or pain. And Eunice, who resembled her mother too much despite supposedly “eating” her to be born, was an existence he wanted to erase.

She knew it all. That her father wanted to treat her as if she didn’t exist.

Nevertheless, Eunice froze like a statue. After staring at her with disapproving eyes, Rockford spoke in a cold tone.

“This is His Majesty’s message.”

“…”

“Johannes Reinhardt. Bear his child to strengthen our alliance.”

As if he didn’t care whether his daughter was hurting or not.

“Contact us immediately when you become pregnant.”

As if that was the only way to prove her usefulness.

Hearing the cold command, Eunice had to clasp her hands together to hide her trembling fingertips.

All her life, she had struggled to be a necessary person. She wanted her father’s recognition and love. His voice made all those years miserable.

“Answer me.”

At his impatient prompting, as if having to repeat himself was annoying, Eunice answered from her shattered heart.

“I understand.”

* * *

Kingdom of Nordish, capital city Berzan.

Johannes, who had risen at the crack of dawn, couldn’t contain his excitement and paced around the castle. In truth, he had been too thrilled to sleep, like a child before a picnic.

Nevertheless, not a trace of fatigue could be found on his sculpted face.

“You’re making me dizzy. Please stay still.”

“Glenton, can’t we move up the departure time?”

“It seems our King has gone blind. Judging by how you don’t see the knights bustling about.”

“Sigh…”

He could see them. He could see, but his heart was racing so wildly that he couldn’t stay still.

Since the day the letter arrived from the Kingdom of Tranche, Johannes had been acting like a madman.

He would suddenly grin while reviewing documents, or abruptly fall into deep contemplation with a worried face during meals.

Glenton just accepted it. He must be extremely pleased. So pleased that he’s gone crazy.

Though deeply concerned about the country’s future, he could understand. Secretly smiling with satisfaction, Glenton quickly returned to his stoic expression when Johannes suddenly turned his head.

“Glenton.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

His tone was indifferent, as if saying “stop calling me.” It was an incredibly disrespectful attitude toward a king, but it couldn’t be helped. He had been pestered since dawn.

“There’s no chance Eunice von Pavlone is someone with the same name, right?”

“As far as I know, there’s only one Pavlone duchy in the Kingdom of Tranche.”

“It must be the Pavlone from St. Laurent, right?”

“Yes.”

His annoyance was evident. Glenton made no effort to hide his irreverent attitude, acting as if he were doing Johannes a favor.

“I hope you realize that it’s absurd for Your Majesty to personally go to the Land of Death to greet her.”

“Stop trying to take credit. My ears are bleeding.”

“I’ve specially permitted it. With mountains of work to do, and you’ve only just returned from the Arctic region, yet you’re abandoning your duties again…”

“Enough, enough. I’ll do it all when I get back.”

“You always say that, but I end up doing everything, don’t I?”

That was true.

Unable to think of a retort, Johannes looked at Glenton with displeasure before belatedly adding an excuse. It was also the official justification for why a king would personally volunteer as an escort.

“Well, reports about the Land of Death have come in. I should properly investigate.”

“Using something so unimportant as an excuse…! Where are you going? Listen to me until I finish, Johan!”

Glenton shouted with a blood-pressure-raising face as Johannes fled in the middle of his lecture, without any regard for etiquette. But timing was crucial when escaping from Glenton, who was famous for his endless nagging once he started.

“Is everything loaded?”

“Yes, Your Majesty!”

“Good. Excellent.”

Johannes unnecessarily encouraged the knights as he confirmed that the escort was ready to depart.

“What about the mages?”

“I’ll summon them.”

“Such lazy fellows.”

Anyone listening might have found it ridiculous to mobilize mages just to escort a foreign princess. However, on this matter, Johannes presented the same justification as before.

Wasn’t grass growing in the Land of Death?

“Do I really need to go investigate some weeds?”

The grumpy voice came just then. It belonged to Rowell, one of the lazy mages and Johannes’s friend since a time he could barely remember.

Johannes responded shamelessly.

“Why don’t you fix that magpie hair of yours?”

Rowell, who had just woken up, roughly combed his hair and pulled up the hood attached to his robe. Such a slovenly attitude when going to fetch Eunice.

Johannes’s brow furrowed.

“We’re going to escort the future queen, and you’re so careless…”

“For some reason, the departure time was moved up. I wonder who’s making such a fuss.”

“A fuss? This is clearly because I’m excited…”

“As if Eunice would remember you. Wake up.”

“…”

This b*stard? Touching such a sensitive spot?

Johannes’s fist flew cleanly at the unacceptable comment. Thwack! At the crisp impact sound, the knights nearby turned their heads like meerkats discovering an interesting spectacle, then swarmed around like bees.

“You ruthless brute! Resorting to violence against a fragile mage!”

“Shut up. Who’s fragile?”

Johannes took another step toward Rowell, who was clutching the back of his head, with merciless eyes. He resembled the God of Death.

“Ahhh! The brutal king is after a mage!”

Rowell’s cry reverberated through the air. Faced with such desperate resistance, Johannes came to a clean conclusion.

He hasn’t been beaten enough.