BTCATL 03

3.

A month passed since I received the letter, then two.

Even though I kept telling myself it was nonsense, that I didn’t need to worry about it, I couldn’t bring myself to throw it away.

Maybe a week after receiving the letter, the Archduke’s attitude toward me started turning cold—as if the warm expression and tender whispers had all been a lie.

At first, I thought I was imagining things.

But soon, his demeanor changed so drastically it could no longer be dismissed as a mere misunderstanding.

He no longer visited me as often as he used to, and sharing a meal together became nothing more than a dream.

It became normal not to see him even once a day.

When we did occasionally cross paths, he’d coldly say we’d talk later and walk right past me.

The noticeable change in his attitude wasn’t something only I had picked up on—there were whispers among the mansion’s servants as well.

I bit my lip.

He was the Archduke. Of course he was extremely busy.

I knew that. I did… but I couldn’t help but feel hurt.

I began counting the days until our monthly shared night—our conjugal night. That one day was the only time I could be with him, alone.

I had planned to ask him then—if he was very busy, if he could spare even a little time for me, if he remembered that we were married.

That’s what I had decided.

But the tiniest grain of anxiety kept growing larger.

—If you truly believe that Karl loves you, then I’ll tell you the truth.

That one sentence haunted me for two months straight.

It was my first time receiving love, my first time giving love—I didn’t want to doubt him. But a small suspicion slowly grew inside me.

And then, when he postponed our conjugal night for the first time, my hands trembled so much I could barely function. That’s when I finally dug out the letter I had buried in a drawer.

The date on the letter was today. As if anticipating my hesitation, plenty of time had passed since it was written.

The meeting place was a dessert café in the bustling district of the north.

I dressed slowly, reluctantly.

I didn’t want to go.

I really didn’t… but I needed to know.

What truth was this woman who wrote the letter referring to? Why had the Archduke, who used to be so kind, suddenly changed?

And… was she really carrying the Archduke’s child? Was she truly his lover?

I asked a maid to ready the carriage, but the door swung open without even a knock.

I wasn’t surprised.

“Asila.”

I had wondered why he hadn’t come yet.

“Where are you going?”

“I heard there’s a nice café in the shopping district… just for a bit—”

“I’ll have something brought to you. You know I don’t like it when you go out.”

Since arriving in the north, I had not once stepped outside the ducal estate. I had only walked in the garden occasionally, never leaving the grounds.

No—I should say I wasn’t allowed to.

Attending social gatherings or going out even briefly had always been forbidden by the Archduke.

Just like now.

He always said he’d send someone instead, asked why I’d bother to inconvenience myself, told me to stay in.

I hid my trembling hands behind my back.

Until now, I hadn’t found it strange. But once doubt took hold, it spread rapidly.

In more than two years, I had never left this mansion.

This wasn’t normal.

Before I came here, I’d practically been a prisoner in the imperial palace, so I hadn’t questioned it much.

But if I can’t even leave the house here, how is it any different?

I recalled that past prison—the one I had tried so hard not to think about since arriving at the ducal estate.

“…I’m just stepping out briefly. I’ll be back soon.”

The Archduke’s blue eyes quietly fixed on me.

“No. The people of the north…”

“Are afraid of outsiders?”

“…Yes.”

Once I noticed the distortion in my life, I couldn’t unsee it.

Why couldn’t I go outside?

No, more importantly—why was the Archduke so desperate to keep me from going out? Because the northern people feared outsiders?

Even I, a woman locked away most of her life, could tell that was a ridiculous excuse.

I saw my own reflection in his eyes—my expression twisted in confusion and hurt.

Eyes I once thought as warm and deep as the ocean now looked bitterly cold as they stared at me.

Since when?

The thought terrified me.

Did he… did he ever love me at all?

He had always dodged conversations, claiming to be busy—but the moment I said I was going out, he suddenly had time to speak?

“I’ll be back soon. I just feel so stifled.”

After a long silence, the Archduke gave a reluctant nod, irritation on his face.

“…Fine. I’ll assign you an escort.”

An escort.

It was natural for a noblewoman to be accompanied by one. Yet to me, it sounded like he was sending someone to watch me.

“…Alright.”

I couldn’t refuse.

The suffocating tension in the ducal mansion pressed down on me. Even so, my heart still pounded for him—it was exhausting.

I boarded the carriage with the escort and rode down snowy roads.

Even as I recited the dessert café’s address from the letter, my hands trembled from thoughts of the Archduke’s cold demeanor.

Then I arrived at the café.

“Hello, Your Grace. I’m Sarsha von Barte. Thank you for coming.”

Wavy pink hair. Big, charming green eyes—unmistakably lovely.

On the quiet fourth floor, the petite woman lifted her skirts to curtsy, then gently stroked her very pregnant belly.

I couldn’t help but look at it.

Could it really be…?

“It’s Karl’s child.”

As if reading my thoughts, Sarsha spoke.

Her lively voice bounced with cheer.

My heart dropped like a stone.

She looked to be in her final trimester—at least 8 or 9 months along. The Archduke’s child.

Logically, how could someone love two people at once?

“Wow. You really didn’t know, huh?”

A smile bloomed on Sarsha’s face.

“Didn’t you already feel something was off? Any normal person would. Did it really feel like Karl loved you?”

Off?

Not letting me go outside. Controlling my every move. The sudden coldness.

But still… still—

“The Archduke’s wife is—”

Me.

“You.”

Her words shook me.

“I thought Karl would’ve told you by now—that the time had come. You really don’t know anything, do you?”

Time? What did that mean…?

Then it hit me.

He had never once said he loved me. Not even a small word of affection.

He was kind, but always kept a vague distance.

The world began to darken around me.

When did he start acting so cold?

It was that day. The day I told him I loved him.

“…You know, Karl hates the imperial family. His parents—former Archduke and Duchess—died because of His Majesty the Emperor.”

I stared blankly at Sarsha.

She smiled crookedly, as if this whole situation amused her.

“Your Grace, or should I say, Princess. Did you really think Karl would love you—you, the daughter of the man he blames?”

Stop.

This wasn’t what I had wanted to know.

“If anything, he’d want revenge, not love. There are many kinds of marriages, you know. Yours wasn’t even a proper political one. Just a pitiful excuse for a union. Being someone’s wife doesn’t mean being loved, naïve little princess.”

I could only listen, dazed, as she spoke.

“Sarsha!”

–Bang!

“Oh, Karl.”

The Archduke burst through the door.

He looked at Sarsha with the softest, most concerned, most intense expression I had ever seen on his face.

And then, he turned to me—with an expression colder than ice.

That’s when I knew.

The warmth, kindness, affection he had shown me… It had all been a lie.

The way he looked at Sarsha and the way he had looked at me were worlds apart.

I had simply misunderstood.

It had been so long since anyone had been kind to me that even the faintest warmth had shaken my heart.