Chapter 49

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 49

Chapter Title: Because She's Pretty

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Mrs. Fitz was momentarily seized by bewilderment, but she soon regained her composure.

The disheveled bed and pajamas scattered across the floor. The empty liquor glass on the nightstand. The Grand Duchess who had vanished in an instant. And the edge of the sheet caught in the bathroom door. Putting it all together painted a rough picture of the situation.

"Everyone, withdraw and stand by."

Mrs. Fitz turned around with a calm expression and issued the stern command. The maids, who had been peeking into the bedroom with curious eyes, flinched and bowed their heads in unison.

"Hurry up."

With just that short addition, the maids hurriedly left the bedroom. Even Lisa, who lingered until the end, finally turned away.

Confirming the bedroom door had closed, Mrs. Fitz quietly approached the bathroom where the Grand Duchess was hiding.

"Your Highness, all the other maids have gone."

"......Yes. I'm sorry, Mrs. Fitz."

A faintly trembling voice leaked through the closed door.

"No need to apologize. Is your body all right?"

"Yes. It's fine. Just a little......"

Erna couldn't easily continue. Mrs. Fitz waited patiently and once again carefully surveyed the Grand Duchess's bedroom.

This morning, Biern had risen from his own bedroom and started his day as usual, without the slightest difference.

Up until the moment he washed, ate, and went out, Biern hadn't mentioned his wife even once. It was as if he had completely forgotten about the wife he had brought home after yesterday's wedding.

A ominous premonition had led her to commit the impropriety, and sure enough.

She couldn't dare speculate carelessly on matters between husband and wife, but she knew this was hardly the scene of a normal newlywed bride's morning. The same went for the groom who, from the first morning after marriage, went about his life as if nothing had happened.

"If attending to your bath would be uncomfortable, I won't bring in any maids."

Mrs. Fitz said what Erna seemed unable to voice herself.

"We'll tidy just the bedroom and withdraw. Ring the call bell when you're ready."

"Thank you."

"Not at all. It's only what I should do. But, Your Highness."

Mrs. Fitz cleared her throat awkwardly before continuing.

"Could you...... return that sheet?"

She could guess why Erna was desperately hiding it, but they couldn't just leave it like that.

After a long silence, the slow sound of the door opening filtered in. Mrs. Fitz stepped back calmly and waited. But the moment she saw Erna standing beyond the threshold, she involuntarily swallowed dryly.

The Grand Duchess, clumsily covered in an oversized bathrobe, couldn't meet her eyes as she held out the sheet. It was hard to believe this was the same bride who had been so beautifully adorned the night before—now utterly worn out. Her swollen eyes, disheveled hair, and the marks lingering on her neck and chest seared into view.

"Thank you, Your Highness."

Mrs. Fitz quickly composed her expression, greeted her as if nothing was amiss, and closed the bathroom door. If Prince Biern had been before her, she might have blurted out "Prince!" without thinking.

She had wondered if he chose such an absurd bride out of love. But if it was love—if it was a woman he loved enough to marry despite the world's condemnation—he wouldn't leave her to face such a pitiful morning alone.

Letting out a deep sigh, Mrs. Fitz banished the worries sown by the enigmatic prince, carefully tucked away the sheet to hide the bloodstains, and left the bedroom.

It was the Grand Duchess's first morning, tinged with concern for the future.

"Thank you so much, Mrs. Fitz."

Erna repeated the words for the umpteenth time.

"Not at all."

Mrs. Fitz gave the same reply. Her demeanor seemed stiff at first glance, but her expression and eyes had softened considerably.

"This is a sedative to calm your nerves. Take it and rest well."

Mrs. Fitz handed Erna a small vial from a silver tray.

"But today I was supposed to tour the Grand Ducal Palace with you......"

"It can wait a day."

Unlike her gentle face, Mrs. Fitz's tone was firm.

"His Highness asked me to tell you to rest easy, since you weren't feeling well."

She added a well-intentioned white lie.

Erna, lost in thought for a moment, abandoned her intention to get out of bed and obediently took the vial. Her body ached as if she had a cold, and she hadn't felt confident wandering this vast palace anyway, so Biern's consideration felt truly grateful and fortunate.

Once Mrs. Fitz confirmed Erna had taken the medicine and lain down, she withdrew, leaving Erna alone in the bedroom. It was still midday, but the room felt cozy with the curtains drawn tight.

Erna stared blankly at the fireplace flames, clutching the bedcovers. Relief washed over her, yet loneliness tugged at her heart. To spend her wedding day first lying in bed. If her grandmother, who had rejoiced that her granddaughter became the Grand Duchess of this kingdom, saw this, she would be deeply disappointed.

"Grandmother......"

The name suddenly surfaced, stinging her heart.

She learned Baroness Baden had returned to Burford around the time the wedding banquet began. Erna felt resentful toward her grandmother for leaving without a proper farewell, but she couldn't blame her.

Everyone has their own place in life, she had said.

Every time Erna suggested she come live in Schwerin, Baroness Baden gave the same answer. Knowing her grandmother's cautious heart, always wary of burdening her granddaughter even slightly, Erna couldn't press further.

Tossing and turning in her troubled mind, Erna faced the ceiling with a furrowed brow. The name Dynister, this room—none felt like her own. Least of all her husband, Biern.

The memories of last night assaulted her like a sudden raid, and her body, lulled by the medicine into languor, stiffened again. Erna still couldn't quite believe that such a suffocating, bizarre event had happened to her.

She checked the closed door several more times, then pulled the covers up to her chin. The lingering aches throughout her body made the irreversible reality sink in. The archbishop's words—that marriage meant relying on each other to tread a thorny path—seemed right after all.

In the deep early hours, Biern had left Erna curled up, half-unconscious. It felt wrong, but the relief that it was finally over drowned out the doubt.

Staring blankly at his indifferent retreating back, never once turning around, Erna closed her eyes at the sound of the door to the couple's connecting passage shutting. She knew she should tidy the wrecked bed and her body, but she couldn't lift a finger. That was her last memory of their wedding night.

He went out—would he return by evening?

She wanted him to come back soon, yet the thought of facing him filled her with dread and emptiness. Caught in this indescribable feeling, Erna buried her face in the pillows.

Biern was kind. And cruel. Warm, yet coldhearted. It was strange for such contradictory traits to coexist in one person, but neither felt like a facade.

The more she thought about him, the less she understood.

After intense deliberation, Erna drifted into sleep amid that hollow conclusion.

Her restless mind conjured a nightmare: being eaten alive by a massive white wolf.

The Grand Duke's carriage returned to Schwerin Palace as the western sky began to redden. Aside from looking slightly fatigued from a busy schedule, he appeared as composed as ever.

After brief eye contact with the greeting servants, Biern strode across the entrance hall. Today, Mrs. Fitz followed closely behind, her footsteps unusually resolute.

"Her Highness is asleep in the bedroom. She wasn't feeling well, so I told her to rest."

"Ah. I see."

"You've just gone through such a major event with the wedding. Wouldn't it be better to rest easy for even a few days?"

Her probing question carried a subtle barb.

"I'll rest on the honeymoon."

"But that honeymoon is still a fortnight away, Your Highness."

A faint crease formed between Mrs. Fitz's brows. Biern glanced at her face, a light smile playing on his lips.

"Have you decided to side with the Grand Duchess now?"

"Pardon?"

"You know full well a honeymoon isn't just a honeymoon."

Biern paused on the landing and turned to face Mrs. Fitz. His smiling expression remained, but the gaze fixed on his nanny held no mirth.

It was formally a honeymoon, but in reality, closer to leading a diplomatic delegation on an overseas tour.

With the complex interplay of power balances among continental nations, reaffirming solid alliances was crucial. Biern's suitability stemmed ironically from relinquishing the crown. A king's or crown prince's visit implied major political moves, but a prince sidelined from the throne could move more lightly. Add the plausible excuse of a honeymoon, and it became the perfect opportunity for unobtrusive intelligence gathering. Plus personal business—scouting financial markets in each country—making for a rather intricate journey.

"You know exactly why I have to meet those stuffy council old men right after the wedding, so there must be a reason for saying such needless things."

"Your Highness......"

"Abandoning me for a one-day Grand Duchess. I'm starting to feel a bit hurt."

His flippant joke laced with laughter made his intent all the clearer.

This far—and no further.

Sensing the line sharply drawn, Mrs. Fitz quickly stepped back.

"I'm sorry, Your Highness."

"Don't be. Between us."

This time, Biern flashed a bright grin like the boy from his childhood and resumed his brisk steps up the stairs. Mrs. Fitz, swallowing her prepared words, followed with routine reports.

"Oh, Mrs. Fitz."

Seated with legs crossed in a chair by the bedroom window, he stopped her as he opened an envelope of a delivered letter.

"As you said, there's still a fortnight, so teach Erna."

"Pardon?"

"My Erna has no maternal family elder to teach her bedroom duties for a daughter, so someone has to take it on."

His calm, matter-of-fact tone delivered the brazen order, leaving Mrs. Fitz momentarily stunned. But she composed herself and accepted her master's will.

"Yes. I'll contact the royal family and summon a suitable person. But, Your Highness."

"Yes?"

Biern nodded slightly while reading the letter.

"Why on earth did you choose Her Highness now as your wife?"

Mrs. Fitz gazed steadily at the prince she had raised but could never fathom, posing the question. She knew it was impertinent, but her doubts had grown too large to suppress.

"Erna......"

Biern set down the read letter and opened the next envelope. The sunset light hit the loosely held paper knife, shattering into fragments.

"Well, because she's pretty."

He delivered the answer that choked the breath from her, utterly nonchalant.

"Your Highness."

"She is pretty, Erna."

Biern grinned casually as he unfolded the letter.

"Isn't she?"

Mrs. Fitz had no reply to the prince's pounding question.

On that autumn evening when she suddenly longed for divine solace, the sunset blazed obliviously beautiful.