RAMHM Chapter 1

Grand Duchess Trovica is frail. Anyone living in Ronta would have heard this at least once. That the Empire's only Grand Duchess is so delicate that the Grand Duke's worries pierce the heavens.

"Cough, cough-cough!"

"Oh, honestly. Your Highness! I keep telling you to drink water slowly!"

So weak she couldn't even reprimand the maid who dared raise her voice at her. After her marriage to the Grand Duke, her already fragile body had deteriorated everywhere—each part betraying her—and in this vast estate, the only ones she could rely on were these brazen maids.

"Goodness, this is so frustrating. Your Highness, you take all day just to drink a glass of water. How will you manage a meal?"

"I can, I can eat..."

"Sure you can."

Annie, her personal maid, whispered something to another servant and soon they were giggling together. Click. The sound of the other maid carrying the meal tray she'd just brought straight back out of the bedroom. No, no! Adrienne cried out desperately inside but couldn't make a sound. She was nobility among nobility—not in a position to throw away dignity over food. Annie knew this perfectly well. She smiled sweetly as she placated her mistress.

"We brought it all the way here, but Your Highness doesn't even have the strength to lift a spoon. What can we do?"

"Even just thin soup, if you'd bring it..."

"That won't do, Your Highness. Remember last time? You spilled it all and we had to throw away the clothes you were wearing and all the bedding. Do you know how hard the laundry girls worked?"

But—that's your job, isn't it? Clothes that should be changed twice daily hadn't been changed in over a week. And the reason she couldn't swallow that soup—it was absurdly salty, grains of sand mixed in enough to make her tongue raw.

Besides, just as Annie said, Adrienne was currently in no condition to hold a spoon for long. When the maid who should properly feed her and wipe her mouth instead stood with arms crossed, staring with those hurry-up eyes—how could she, already thoroughly cowed, possibly chew and swallow food?

"Your Highness—"

Less than a minute after the maid with the tray left, there came a knock and the one who entered was Jimskehr, the Grand Duke's aide-de-camp. Adrienne's face brightened abruptly.

"Your Highness, a gift from the Grand Duke."

"And, and him?"

Servants following him carried several gift boxes into the bedroom. But Adrienne wanted to see her husband's face more than any gift. Two years of marriage. Her husband, familiar with the title of the Emperor's Strategist, hadn't even enjoyed a honeymoon—drafted to handle the aftermath of border defenses in all four directions, attending to matters great and small in the Emperor's stead. Adrienne was proud of him, but simultaneously—lonely. Jimskehr, well aware of her situation, spoke with a troubled expression.

"He has returned to the capital, but with His Majesty the Emperor's command to enter the palace immediately..."

"To the estate... Cough. Not even for one minute?"

"After the audience there's a meeting right away, but..."

Jimskehr slowly took in Adrienne—young and beautiful, but with illness written plainly across her features. The Grand Duchess sat leaning against the headboard in nightclothes that by noble standards were 'practically naked.' She who should have received him properly dressed in the reception room of this estate as grand as the Imperial Palace—she was too ill even for such proprieties. His face filled with pity as he spoke.

"I'll tell him to stay in the capital for at least a day before departing again."

"Please, cough. Please, Sir Jimskehr."

Adrienne hastily pulled a handkerchief from her bosom to cover her mouth. Cold air entering the room triggered a sudden coughing fit. Soon Jimskehr was driven from the bedroom by the butler and maids—almost ejected. The servants, afraid of what useless words Adrienne might say, dealt with him hurriedly.

Suddenly, the Grand Duke's estate became busy. The Grand Duke, Novian Trovika, who had gone to inspect his northern territory, was scheduled to return.

"Oh, I didn't mean to wake you."

"When did you arrive? I asked them to wake me when you came..."

"Not long ago."

Noevian returned to the estate only at dawn. Long after Adrienne, who'd fought off sleep until midnight, finally succumbed and fell into slumber. Novian's tender blue eyes gazed at her. The moment he helped her sit up, Adrienne fell into his embrace. That longed-for scent. The cigars he smoked. Things like the rosemary soap he'd just bathed with.

"I missed you, Noah."

"I did too."

He whispered, embracing Adrienne as she nestled against him.

"I missed you so much too."

"Thank you for the gifts too. You don't need to send them so often, cough."

"Seeing you is like plucking stars from the sky—if I didn't do at least this much, I worry you'd forget me."

Novian smiled tenderly.

'Ah...'

He had a somewhat sharp, cool impression, but when he smiled, he was beautiful enough to make everything around him sparkle. Adrienne freely traced that face from within his broad, solid embrace. They hadn't even consummated their marriage yet two years had passed. But still—the romantic feelings from when she was a princess remained.

"The servants worry about you greatly. Are you taking all the medicine sent from Pireta and what I send you?"

"...Y-yes, of course."

Every time, swallowing those pills was so difficult. Unable to even act as a single person on her own strength, having to depend on the maids, and she—the mistress of this enormous estate—reading their expressions...

"I always say this, but you don't need to worry about anything."

"...But I can't just lie here forever."

The position of Grand Duchess was nominally as high as an Imperial Princess. As Novian's wife, a member of the Imperial family, she too should mingle with the Empress and Princesses, participate in events large and small.

"Everyone in the Empire already knows your health is poor anyway."

People are more understanding than you think, Adrienne. Novian whispered, stroking her face with his long, delicate fingers.

Is that really true?

'When even the maids who should serve their mistress treat me like a useless person. Tomorrow when you leave, they'll raise their heads they'd lowered and direct all kinds of cunning verbal abuse at me, the Grand Duchess. I who have no choice but to rely on them—sent directly by His Majesty—I can say nothing...'

'People outside this estate won't be so kind and understanding to me.'

Over the past two years of declining health, she'd become endlessly pessimistic, powerless. Even before, her body was weak, but there'd been no hindrance to walking or writing. Though she tired easily, she'd danced well enough at balls. At her darkening expression, Novian paused briefly before speaking.

"If anyone torments you, I'll behead them—anyone at all."

He whispered low. Adrienne's body stiffened involuntarily at that chilling voice. Shaking off the tension with effort, she nestled back into her husband's embrace and quietly closed her eyes.

'I wish there was something I could do for you.'

Too weak to fulfill her role, unable even to win the hearts of this estate's servants... The title of Grand Duchess was grandiose, but the reality—a frail body consumed by a weak spirit. Compared to the love he gave, what she possessed was too meager. Other couples, when meeting after long absence, shared passionate love—but with a body that couldn't even sit up without help, she could do nothing. Somehow—it was too miserable.

Novian embraced her warmly, gifted her anything that suited her, and though called everywhere as the Emperor's proxy, whenever he found good medicine he'd pay any price to send it to her. A perfect husband. Novian Trovica was that kind of man. Which made it more impossible to speak. How could she—who did nothing at home but lie down, eat and sleep—tell him she was mocked and tormented even by maids far beneath her station?

For a noble to be looked down upon by anyone, especially commoners, was shameful. If Novian learned she was that worthless? If he saw it with his own eyes? As he'd said, the maids' and butler's heads would be severed, and simultaneously Adrienne's last shred of barely-hidden pride would be severed too.

'Get your body together first.'

Her weakened spirit was proportional to her weakened body. Regain health, properly manage the household affairs left to the butler, reclaim duties from Novian who'd taken on her work too... Just that thought improved Adrienne's mood slightly. Until her eyes closed, Novian's pleasant voice wetted her ears. He was singing her a familiar lullaby. Three Baby Ducklings. That lullaby children in her homeland of eastern Pirreta grew up hearing.

'I don't want to fall asleep...'

In the morning he'd be gone. It might be months before they met again. Without him, no one would keep her company.

The servants of Trovika Grand Ducal Estate rushed through the vast grounds in commotion.

"Quickly! Fetch the physician quickly!"

"Good Lord!"

"Contact the Pirreta Ducal House!"

Grand Duchess Adrienne, who'd lived like a ghost in the second-floor bedroom, had taken a critical turn. Unlike before, severe convulsions wouldn't stop—even the maids who'd consistently ignored her turned pale and practically dragged the sleeping physician to the bedroom.

"Your Highness...!"

Two months since the Grand Duke left the estate. Early winter had arrived suddenly, unusually cold, and it was a night when the first snow had piled knee-deep.

"No, vian..."

"Examine her pulse quickly!"

Annie, the Grand Duchess's personal maid, began pushing the physician's back. The Grand Duchess was already half-fallen from the bed.

"Cough!"

Large clots of blood spilled onto the carpet. The gathered servants screamed. The trembling physician quickly pulled medicine from his coat and handed it to Annie.

"Make her swallow it, quickly!"

Annie and the other maids seized Adrienne—her face already covered in blood—and forced the enormous pill into her mouth. The medicine was so large that Adrienne couldn't swallow properly; the maids practically poured water down her throat. Gag, gag. GAG! Thrashing in agony as if drowning, Adrienne flailed through the air with her whole body as if parting water. Thinking the seizure had started again, they held her body down firmly—and that action to Adrienne was no different from hands dragging her down into the deep abyss while drowning.

'Can't breathe...!'

I want to throw off all these people's hands! Just let me go! I want to get out of the water! After struggling desperately for a long time, Adrienne suddenly—impossibly—became free. Ah, finally...! But Adrienne could no longer move. Her eyes were open but she saw nothing; her ears were open but she heard no voices. Inside her head was empty like a white box holding nothing.

'Save me...!'

Save me, save me. Save me! Her mouth opened but no sound came, and by the time she thought the white box wasn't actually inside her head but was herself—Adrienne dimly realized. 'I' am dead.