Chapter 03
The day before Claudel was to leave for the Duchy of Valdemar,
Viscount d’Autriche came to see his daughter for the first time in a long while.
“Father.”
Claudel rose to her feet with a hopeful expression.
Even now, she still held a small bit of expectation in her heart.
That before she left for far away,
he might at least say one warm thing to her.
…That was all she wanted.
“If you do well this time, His Majesty says he’ll grant our family a great reward.”
The Viscount said, face bright with excitement.
And just like that, the hope on Claudel’s face vanished, like a popped bubble.
It was the same old father.
And yet—why did she always find herself hoping again and again?
But the Viscount wasn’t finished yet.
“So listen, Claudel…”
His face came into view, blurred above Claudel’s blue eyes.
That expression gleaming with low, shameless excitement.
He suddenly grabbed her shoulders tightly.
“What about a suicide attempt?”
“……”
…What?
Claudel couldn’t understand what he meant for a moment.
The Viscount continued in an eager voice:
“You know why His Majesty arranged this marriage, right?”
“It’s… because…”
“It’s to humiliate that arrogant Valdemar!”
There wasn’t even a hint of concern for his daughter in his words.
There was only one thing—his overwhelming desire to please the King.
Claudel stared at him, stunned.
She knew it too.
That to Duke Valdemar, she would be nothing more than a shameful wife.
But still…
‘Of all people… I didn’t want to hear this from my father.’
And at that moment, a truth she had been refusing to face finally struck her.
‘I was never truly his daughter.’
She was a flower carefully raised to suit the King’s tastes.
A tool to revive the fallen House of d’Autriche.
To her father, that was Claudel’s only value.
“A newlywed bride who longs for another man… attempts suicide.”
“Father, that’s…”
“I’m a man, so I know this well—
how humiliating it is to marry a woman who loves another man!”
The Viscount’s hands gripped Claudel’s shoulders tightly.
“Claudel, make His Majesty happy. Then he’ll surely reward our family greatly.”
And in that moment, when she met his eyes filled with nothing but desire—
Claudel felt like everything had lost its meaning.
“All right, Father,” she replied.
A few days later, in the bride’s waiting room at Valdemar—
The maid her father had assigned to her handed Claudel a small silver dagger.
Claudel accepted it with a calm expression.
She didn’t want to die.
But if she actually died… she didn’t mind.
‘If I really stop breathing here and now…’
As she stared at the sharp, silver blade, Claudel suddenly wondered:
‘Would Father or His Majesty feel even the slightest bit sorry for me?’
…Of course not.
With a cold, bitter smile, Claudel slashed her wrist without hesitation.
Drip, drip.
Thick drops of blood poured like rain, quickly soaking her pure white wedding dress in red.
To put it bluntly—
Claudel’s suicide attempt turned out to be very effective.
“What?! The bride tried to kill herself?!”
“She must’ve loved His Majesty that much.”
“Still, to hate the Duke so much she’d do that on their wedding day…”
The nobles all whispered among themselves.
And as expected, public opinion in Valdemar plummeted to its worst.
“That harlot, becoming the Duchess of Valdemar?!”
“There’s a limit to how much you can disgrace our name!”
Everyone raised their voices, insisting Claudel be kicked out immediately.
But—
Reinhardt, the person at the center of it all, did not get swept up in the outrage.
He simply gave the order to have Claudel treated properly…
…and then quietly waited for her to regain consciousness.
And so—at last.
When Claudel finally woke up,
she was met with a strange and unexpected sight.
“Duke Valdemar…?”
Someone was looking down at Claudel lying in bed, their gaze filled with concern.
“Are you awake?”
That person was Reinhardt von Valdemar—
Claudel’s third husband, who had every reason to hate her.
“Y-Your Grace?!”
Claudel was shocked and hurried to sit up.
But pain immediately shot through her wrist as she pressed against the bed.
“Ugh…”
A small groan escaped her lips before she could hold it back.
Startled, Reinhardt quickly tried to stop her.
“Please, just lie down.”
But how could she possibly rest comfortably in front of him?
She had, after all, shamed him in front of the world.
“……”
Claudel quietly lowered her head and avoided his eyes.
She didn’t have the courage to look at his face.
“Claudel.”
Reinhardt, who had been silently watching her, finally called her name in a calm voice.
“It must be hard to marry me while your heart belongs to someone else. I understand.”
…He understands?
“But now that you’re the lady of House Valdemar,
even if it’s difficult, I hope you’ll show our family a little respect.”
Claudel’s blue eyes widened a little.
“Your Grace… you…”
She moved her dry lips without realizing it.
“Do you really see me as your wife?”
“Of course. Don’t you?”
Reinhardt actually looked puzzled as he asked back.
“Even though we didn’t have a formal wedding,
we’ve already exchanged our vows in writing, haven’t we?”
“That’s…”
Claudel started to say something, but bit her lower lip instead.
Here he was,
acknowledging her as his wife without hesitation—
even though the whole world saw her as dirty.
He hadn’t raised a hand to her, hadn’t lost control in rage.
He simply corrected her behavior—calmly and gently.
A man like that… was truly the first she had ever met.
“Why… aren’t you angry with me?”
Claudel asked the question without even thinking.
“I’ve… disgraced you in front of everyone.”
At that moment—
For the first time, Reinhardt’s calm expression faltered slightly.
Startled, Claudel bit her lip so hard it began to bleed.
‘What have I done now?’
The Duke had been kind enough not to get angry,
and yet she’d gone and stirred things up again.
‘What if he gets upset now…?’
After a brief silence, Reinhardt finally spoke in a calm voice.
“Claudel. I don’t know much about you.”
“……”
“So all I can do is guess why you acted that way.”
Claudel clenched the blanket tightly in her hands.
Because she loved the King… and went mad from that love,
she’d tried to kill herself on the very day of a political wedding between two great houses.
He must be referring to that.
‘He’s going to scold me. I know it.’
Claudel’s face went pale.
Would he strike her?
Or maybe yell at her, call her a filthy woman?
Still… it was all her fault, so she had no right to complain.
But then—
His next words completely shattered her expectations.
“But I also know that those guesses I’m making…
are based only on my own biases, or the rumors that people spread.”
…What?
Claudel couldn’t believe her ears.
Yet Reinhardt still wore that same calm, sincere expression.
“That’s why—if possible, I’d like to get to know you slowly, from here on.
I don’t want to misunderstand you.”
“Your Grace…”
“I don’t want to judge who you are just by my assumptions or the rumors around you.”
Reinhardt looked straight into Claudel’s eyes.
“That’s why I’m not angry with you.”
Claudel was left speechless.
There wasn’t a trace of hatred.
No disgust, no scorn.
Only his beautiful, unwavering violet eyes.
“But from now on… don’t ever do something like this again.”
Reinhardt glanced toward Claudel’s injured wrist.
His gaze was strict, yet kind—like someone gently scolding a child who had made a mistake.
“Can you promise me that?”
Claudel slowly nodded, dazed.
“Yes… I will.”
“Good,”
Reinhardt said with a soft smile.
It was a clear, refreshing smile, like that of a pure-hearted boy—untouched by any shadow.
Seeing it, Claudel asked without thinking:
“Why… are you being so kind to me?”
Reinhard 😭😭