Chapter 3. A Fraudulent Marriage (2021.07.08)
The scent of the forest came through the open window. Even while he was unconscious, Daniel’s nose had been working, because he was already used to the smell of his land, even though he’d spent so little time here. Still, three years asleep? That meant it had been seven years since Leopold became emperor and gave Daniel the title of Duke Richard and this land of Utrecht.
Most of the duchy was covered in mountains, with barely any farmland, and only a few people to look after. Even the Empress Dowager Marguerite had objected, thinking it was too much to give him even this much. Daniel leaned on his right shoulder by the bed and gazed out the window at the fading sunlight.
He didn’t care much for this land or the name Richard, and probably never felt thankful for it. If Emperor Leopold knew, he might be disappointed. But Daniel didn’t care. He never asked for any of it.
A hesitant voice sounded close by.
“Um…”
Daniel turned his head to see the white-haired woman standing next to his bed—the woman he had once mistaken for an angel. He remembered the forests in the North, when he was fourteen, following his grandfather’s mercenary band. He’d thought he’d seen an angel then, too. Now, so many memories rushed in at once, even those he hadn’t recalled in years.
“Daniel Johannes Richard, do you take Frida Cloud Harkbourne as your wife…?”
The old priest’s voice during the wedding ceremony.
“He… stia. sniffle Hestia, big sister…”
A little girl’s sobbing voice.
“Frida, where are you? Frida!”
Daniel brushed hair from his cheek and gave a bitter smile. For spring, the breeze was strangely warm, and his eyes grew heavy.
“Um… Duke?”
He opened his eyes at the sound. Those sparkling violet eyes were looking at him. Did she even know why she ended up as the Duchess of Richard? The way she looked at him was so clear, nothing like the sly looks he’d gotten from noblewomen before. Because Daniel just kept staring silently, Frida had trouble continuing.
Daniel spoke first.
“Go ahead. Say it.”
Frida quickly answered, as if she’d been waiting.
“The doctor said you could have something soft, like soup. If you’re hungry, should I bring it?”
Daniel fell silent again, so Frida just fidgeted with her skirt, blinking. Was it really right to offer food to someone who’d just woken after three years? While she nervously fiddled with her hands, she noticed the curtains fluttering from the wind, and hurried to the window. She’d been so busy, she hadn’t even noticed the sun setting.
“I’m sorry, I forgot to close the window. It’s cold at night—aren’t you chilly?”
She shut the window tightly and came back, then, without hesitation, reached out to pull the blanket over Daniel’s chest.
“The doctor said to keep you warm, so I’ll light the fireplace tonight. Oh, you’re sweating a lot. Please wait, I’ll wipe you down and get you fresh clothes.”
“You? You’ll do it?”
“Yes, of course I…”
As she arranged the flowery blanket, Frida and Daniel’s eyes met. Her white eyebrows fluttered like a hummingbird’s wings.
“Ah… I mean, I always did this for you.”
Embarrassed, Frida pulled her hand away from the blanket and took a step back. A blush spread over her pale cheeks.
Daniel, who had been looking at her thin, white neck, lowered his eyes.
“I’d like to rest as I am tonight. I’ll eat from tomorrow.”
“Then I’ll tell them to light the fireplace right away.”
“Are you all right?”
“Sorry?”
Frida turned back, surprised at his question. Her firm violet eyes met his strong reddish-brown ones, and they stared at each other for a moment. His calm voice, as gentle as a spring breeze, reached her.
“I mean, you look so pale. Are you sick somewhere?”
Frida looked down at her own snow-white skin and hair, suddenly remembering this was the first time the Duke had really seen her face. At their wedding, she’d worn a veil, and the Duke had left the ceremony right away. How did she look to him, being so different from other people? Frida glanced at her reflection in the window—her colorless face, white eyelashes, and unusual silvery hair that hung limply to her shoulders. The Harkbourne family was known for women with white hair and skin. Long ago, people thought their looks were a blessing, but now, they called it a curse. Most girls born like her never lived to adulthood—like her two older sisters.
She forced a smile, hiding her unease.
“No, I’m fine. Thank you for your concern, Duke.”
Her violet eyes trembled beneath her white brows. Daniel finally looked away, his voice suddenly tired.
“Let the servants look after me from now on. You don’t need to do it yourself.”
Frida bit her lip. Of course—anyone would feel cautious around someone so different.
“Yes, I understand. I was out of line. If I upset you… I’m sorry.”
Daniel, who had been brushing his hair from his face, stopped moving.
“What do you mean?”
“Huh?”
“I don’t remember saying I was upset. Did I?”
“No, not exactly…”
Daniel grew frustrated with how things kept feeling out of sync. He couldn’t understand why this woman, who’d looked at him so brightly, now sounded so crushed. He’d never had a real conversation from bed before, so it felt awkward. He pulled back the blanket and swung his legs over the edge. Thankfully, his body was steady enough to stand. He waited for a moment to get his balance, then stood up tall.
“You shouldn’t push yourself so suddenly…”
Frida ran over, worried, looking up at him. Her clear violet eyes grew wide. Daniel looked down at her and spoke slowly.
“I left before the wedding was even over, and then I was unconscious for three years. You’ve taken care of me all this time. If anyone’s been rude or unpleasant, it must be me.”
“No, no! You just slept quietly, Duke.”
Frida shook her hands, and her loose white hair danced on her shoulders.
“You never did anything wrong. I was the one who made mistakes. Sometimes, I’d even cut your chin while shaving you… Sorry.”
She dropped her head in shame, her voice growing smaller.
“I just meant, I’m sorry if I ever touched you without permission and made you uncomfortable.”
“It was surprising, but not unpleasant. So there’s nothing for you to apologize for.”
She smelled of earth and grass—a scent you’d never find on a noble lady. Daniel wondered what this fragile-looking woman had been doing all this time.
“I was just worried that life here was too hard for you. You look so pale.”
Pale? I’ve always looked like this, Frida thought, frowning. Suddenly, she realized something odd in his reaction.
“Um… Duke, do you…?”
It couldn’t be. Was it possible he didn’t know about the Harkbourne women?
“You know there’s something seriously wrong with women born like me, right?”
Daniel stayed silent.
Frida stepped back, seeing no sign of recognition on his face.
“If you didn’t know, then this is a fraudulent marriage!”
Frida was shocked, trying to calm her racing heart.
“If you married me without knowing my circumstances, this is a really big problem!”
But unlike her panic, Daniel didn’t react at all. He seemed like a different person from the man who’d cursed at the Molly family just minutes ago. Frida’s words rushed out faster.
“Women born like me in the Harkbourne family almost never lived past twenty. I don’t know how long I’ll last, and—”
“Like your sister, Hestia?”
Frida’s jaw dropped. She forgot her noble upbringing and just stared.
“Y-you know my sister?”
“No.”
Daniel sat back down on the bed, sounding tired.
“But I know your name is Frida, not Hestia.”
He looked at her and added indifferently:
“And yes, it is a fraudulent marriage.”
