COARV Chapter 12

"You seem not to realize you nearly died. I won't be telling a patient to sit up, so stay lying down."

"Thank you."

Having gotten Lesche's permission put my mind somewhat at ease. Lying still, eyes closing, Lesche asked, unprompted:

"I can't make sense of what goes on in your head. What sort of dream had you crying like that?"

"Was I crying?"

"Why else would I have woken someone who was asleep?"

"So it was you who woke me."

I blinked, slow and sluggish.

"I dreamed I was dying."

"Frightened of dying?"

"Is there anyone who isn't frightened of dying?"

"I'd assumed you weren't the type to be frightened of that sort of thing."

"Me?"

Somewhat baffled, I let out a short laugh, out of step with the moment. As if I hadn't fought tooth and nail just to survive. I laughed, then sobered almost as quickly.

Did that mean the old Seria used to carry on like her guts were hanging clean out of her—no fear left in her at all?

That aside, Lesche's voice felt just a shade gentler than usual. And—hadn't this conversation gone on unusually long, come to think of it? Normally he was a man it was difficult even to address.

Something I'd forgotten came back to me all at once.

"What about Kallis?"

Lesche's expression turned cynical. He sat himself down heavily on the edge of my bed, took the handkerchief I'd been holding, and scrubbed at my forehead like he was polishing a porcelain vase.

"…Your Highness? What are you doing?"

"Wondering if you'd lost your memory."

"…?"

Lesche asked, a beat late.

"Don't you remember what happened at the wedding?"

When the pain is bad enough, a person's mind lets go. Meaning the memory just before that tends to blur, dreamlike. I'd gotten to experience that vividly firsthand, in the wedding hall.

I remembered collapsing from the pain, crying, quite clearly.

Everything after that was half a dream.

"I finished the wedding."

"That's right."

Somehow, I must have gotten married. Which was presumably why I was still alive. But I had no memory of ever seeing Kallis's face, all the way through to the end of that ceremony.

What I did remember was Lesche Berke, snow still not fully brushed from his shoulders and hair. The cold air that clung to his body.

Had that not been a dream, then?

"Did I… marry you, Your Highness?"

Lesche didn't answer at once. Looking down at me quietly for a moment, he finally spoke.

"That's right."

I blinked, dazed. Incomprehension. Bewilderment. Astonishment. All manner of feelings tangled together, and I couldn't tear my eyes off Lesche. Lesche didn't avoid my gaze in the slightest, either.

"…Why?"

Lesche clicked his tongue.

"And have the head of Berke bear the disgrace of having lost his Stern?"

"Ah…"

"I might as well throw my knight's crest into the lake instead."

Short and to the point, but it was reasoning that made sense enough. Still, there was one thing I couldn't quite understand.

"Your Highness—did you know I was going to die?"

I'd never told Lesche I thought I was going to die. I'd been in too much pain to get a single word out.

But there had been plenty of priests present. Their talk of tangled divine power had rung loudly through the hall. Which meant Abigail had likely stopped short of coming up to me for that very reason. Naturally, everyone there must have assumed it was a matter of tangled divine power.

Lesche looked at me for a while before speaking.

"Was I the only one who knew?"

"What?"

"My lady."

"Yes, Your Highness."

"If you were to kill the Marquess of Haneton, I'd see to it you were acquitted."

Setting aside how alarming that statement was, its content was strange. I had a suspicion. Praying it wasn't true, I asked Lesche, slowly.

"Did Kallis know? That I might die, if he was late to the wedding?"

Lesche looked away from me and said—

"That's right."

"…"

For a moment, my chest went cold, as if sliced by ice. As the Stern myself, I'd never been told any such thing directly. It must have been something disclosed only to Kallis, as my betrothed.

Which meant… Kallis had gone out knowing full well I might be put in danger, and hadn't come back.

The hand I'd had resting on the blanket went ice-cold. Just as I was clutching my trembling fingers together to still them—

Knock knock.

A knock sounded at the door. Lesche took his eyes off me and rose from the bed.

"Come in."

The one who opened the door and stepped in was none other than the chief aide, Linon. He bowed his head and spoke.

"Your Highness. Word's come from the Grand Temple. The High Priest says he'll be visiting shortly—you'll need to see to it yourself, sir."

A High Priest?

As a Stern myself, a High Priest wasn't such an overwhelming presence to me. But that was only my own position. To ordinary people, a High Priest was a figure so sacred and exalted that even looking up at one properly was difficult. Besides, a High Priest hardly ever set foot outside the Holy Kingdom.

And now he was coming in person?

While my eyes went round with surprise, Lesche showed not the slightest sign of it. He just wore a look thick with sheer annoyance.

"I'll see to it."

Lesche left without so much as a glance back. He really was tall—gone in a few long strides, just like that.

Linon, by contrast, kept slowing his steps, and the moment Lesche left the bedroom, hurried straight back over to me.

"Lady Seria."

An address unusually familiar for Linon, who normally called me "my lady." Linon rubbed his hands together like a subordinate fawning over his superior and said—

"Truthfully, in my heart I'd love to address you as Her Highness the Grand Duchess this very moment, but you understand, don't you? His Majesty the Emperor's approval is required first for the Grand Duke's marriage to be officially finalized."

Officially finalized. The phrase sounded strange to me. Wasn't this... closer to a provisional marriage?

A wedding Lesche Berke had held, for whatever reason, as a stopgap measure to save my life. A wedding with no reasonable grounds to continue on from here.

Not pessimism—just a realistic read of the situation.

I don't know what expression I was wearing. But Linon's expression shifted slightly.

"Miss, actually, I put quite a lot of thought into a wedding gift as well—"

Linon, murmuring low, suddenly flinched, his shoulders jumping. He looked exactly like a rabbit that had just caught the scent of a predator. I followed his gaze to the door. But there was no one there—was there?

Linon's face had gone pale. He bowed his head hastily.

"I'll come fetch you again shortly."

Then, without waiting for any reply, he darted off—practically fled, really. Left alone in the bedroom in an instant, I only blinked.

Thoughtlessly, I braced my arm against the bed and flinched at a sharp jolt of pain. Only then did I notice, pulling back the loose sleeve of my nightgown.

My arm was wrapped entirely in bandages.

Because I nearly died in the wedding hall.

The arm I'd just braced against seemed to have split its wound back open—blood was starting to seep through. I pulled the bell-cord to summon the maids.

I got a brief account of how people had reacted to the wedding from them, and let them help me wash. To go see a healing priest at the main castle, I had them prepare something comfortable to wear.

"This dress and the cloak over it should be good, miss."

"Something with wide sleeves, and if we tie the ribbons just loose enough, it shouldn't interfere with your treatment either…"

The maids had just pulled a suitable dress from the wardrobe.

Bang!

The bedroom door was flung open, hard.

"Seria! Seria Stern!"

A man burst in with it. Disheveled golden hair and dark black eyes. My fiancé… had been. Kallis Haneton. That man. Berke's knights hurried in behind him, chasing after Kallis as he barreled straight into the room.

"Marquess Kallis Haneton! You cannot barge in unannounced!"

"His Highness the Grand Duke gave orders no one is to be admitted without his express permission!"

Why are knights guarding my bedroom door in the first place?

But that question passed quickly.

Kallis's state was a mess. He looked like he'd literally been rolling in the snowdrifts, bandages wrapped around his forehead and one wrist.

But setting all of that aside, the way his eyes looked at me was burning strangely. Right, then—there were things I needed to say to him too.

I draped the shawl hanging by my bedside over my shoulders and said—

"Everyone leave, please. I have something to discuss with the Marquess of Haneton."

I'd been prepared to threaten the knights if they refused, but to my surprise, they complied without so much as a struggle, bowing crisply and stepping out. It was a stark contrast—they'd blocked Kallis like some criminal, yet followed my word without hesitation. Though for Kallis, it seemed to matter little either way.

Even the maids withdrew, glancing between us warily, and the bedroom fell quiet.

"Seria!"

Kallis strode over and gripped both my shoulders hard. His two eyes were burning with fury.

"How can this be? How could you marry another man—and the Grand Duke of Berke, of all people! Seria—!"

Crack!

Kallis's cheek didn't turn as far as I'd expected. There wasn't enough strength left in my hand. I was furious. He had no idea how miserable I'd been, standing alone in that wedding hall.

"You're the one who didn't come."

"…Seria."

"You're the one who didn't come to the wedding."

I glared at Kallis and bit the words out, one by one.

"That I married another man? That's something you brought on yourself, Kallis. If it weren't for the Grand Duke, I'd be dead. I'd have vomited blood and died horribly. Because you never came!"

His jaw tightened.

"Why? Do you want to know how I found that out? Even knowing full well I could die if you were late to the wedding—no, actually, isn't it that you wanted me to die? That's why you went off to fool around with Lina, isn't it!"

"Seria. Please…. It was an accident. I didn't stay away on purpose!"

"An accident?"

I ground my teeth.

"Did someone hold a knife to your throat and threaten to kill you if you didn't sneak off to the glacier with Lina? And this, of all times—two days before the wedding, on a glacier where accidents happen all the time—an accident?"

"I'm sorry."

Kallis dragged both hands down his face.

"I'm sorry, Seria…."

"Get out."

"Seria. Seria, please."

"I said get out!"

He grabbed hold of me, urgent. Gripping both my hands, trembling, he began pleading with me.

"I was afraid you'd get hurt, Seria. Call it an excuse if you like. But I tried to make it back no matter what, even with the blizzard howling—I just collapsed in front of the door, which is why I'm this late…"

Tears began welling in Kallis's black eyes.

"You know I only ever wanted to marry you. What I confessed to you wasn't a lie. I really do love you."