Chapter 2
With Gerard and Josephine backing her, Shaiya grew arrogant. Out of nowhere, she insisted on using the greenhouse.
That place was Anais’s pride and joy.
It had once been nothing but ruins, but Anais rebuilt it with her own hands and succeeded in cultivating medicinal herbs that grew in the wild. Thanks to that, the entire territory was spared from starvation.
And now Shaiya was throwing a tantrum, demanding that it be cleared out so she could plant flowers.
To the people of Valdif, the greenhouse was sacred ground. And she wanted to plant flowers there—flowers of her own country’s national emblem, no less.
It was absurd.
‘Maybe she’s doing this on purpose.’
Yet it was Gerard who carried out that very absurdity. He mobilized soldiers and had all the tools and herb specimens that filled the greenhouse dragged outside.
The head maid couldn’t bear to watch and had deliberately shut herself away—only to be summoned anyway. This was Josephine’s warning: the person the Valdif family was meant to follow was not Anais, but Shaiya.
Swallowing her tears, the head maid headed toward the greenhouse.
Just then, Anais, who had been out, returned to the castle. The servants she encountered froze as if they’d seen a ghost.
“L-Lady Anais…”
They hurriedly tried to hide what they were holding—shovels, soil, and seedlings of the Lanta Kingdom’s national flower.
As if she already understood what was happening, Anais let out a small laugh.
“I thought I’d already seen every ugly sight there was to see. Turns out there was more. How amusing.”
With that, she headed for the greenhouse.
Shaiya was giving orders to the servants when she spotted Anais and waved her hand.
“Oh my, you’re back? I thought you’d left already. I was so worried.”
She smiled brightly, though her expression carried a hint of disappointment.
Ignoring Shaiya completely, Anais gave an order to the servants.
“Stop.”
The servants darted their eyes around nervously, unsure what to do.
Shaiya was the rising power now. But they also couldn’t bring themselves to ignore Anais, who had built this territory with her own hands.
When they hesitated, Shaiya stepped forward.
“What’s the big deal about planting a few flowers in a greenhouse? Don’t tell me you’re jealous?”
She opened a fan layered with lace and covered her mouth.
“Acting out just because you’re the so-called legal wife.”
It was muttered under her breath, yet loud enough for everyone to hear.
She meant to provoke her, but Anais didn’t so much as blink. It wasn’t an act—she truly looked unaffected.
“The greenhouse is a sacred place.”
“What?”
Shaiya burst into laughter, as if she’d just heard the most ridiculous joke.
“There’s a limit to how much you can insist. This is sacred? You’re only making yourself look more pathetic.”
The servants’ expressions slowly hardened.
This place had freed them from crushing poverty. It was sacred in the truest sense. And now someone wanted to plant the flowers of an enemy nation there.
No wonder even Josephine and Tanya had opposed it.
It wasn’t that they were particularly taking Anais’s side. The greenhouse was simply the single most invaluable asset of the Valdif territory.
But Shaiya refused to give up.
She tearfully appealed to Gerard.
‘I think I’m homesick. I thought if I could at least see my homeland’s national flower, I might feel better… but Mother says no.’
From the very day she arrived in Valdif, she had shamelessly started calling Josephine “Mother.”
‘Your real sister glares at me, and the servants only watch Anais’s reactions. There’s no place for me in this house.’
And in the end, this disaster unfolded.
Just then, a deep voice sounded from behind.
“What’s going on here?”
It was Gerard. Shaiya changed her expression faster than any actress.
“Gerard.”
She dabbed at her reddened eyes with a handkerchief. Gerard glanced briefly at Anais, then walked toward Shaiya.
The servants swallowed their sighs.
‘How did he change so much?’
Just three years ago, Gerard had only had eyes for Anais. He had even lied without hesitation in order to marry her.
Who would marry their daughter to a man who was going to be sent off to war immediately after the wedding? That was why Gerard had hidden the truth until the very day of the ceremony.
Naturally, Anais’s parents had been furious. What was even more shocking was that Anais herself seemed to have had no idea at all.
In the end, kind-hearted Anais understood everything, soothed her parents, and only then were they able to become husband and wife.
So how had he changed this much?
It was as if Anais didn’t even exist—he walked straight past her.
“Shaiya, what is it that upset you?”
The sharpness that always lingered in his eyes melted away in an instant. He looked so gentle it was as though honey might drip from him.
“It’s nothing. This is all because I’m lacking.”
That was how she began, but Shaiya went on to tattle about everything, chattering nonstop. Gerard’s gaze toward Anais sharpened once more.
“Who gave you the right to stop her?”
He looked ready to draw his sword at any moment, but Anais didn’t even blink.
“I never stopped her.”
The servants thought there was nothing left that could surprise them—but they were wrong.
The young lady who never spoke disrespectfully even to her inferiors was speaking informally. And to her husband, who was now a count, no less.
“That’s not what Shaiya said. It doesn’t matter who’s right. What matters is that my woman was brought to tears.”
“My woman….”
A venomous smile flickered at the corner of Anais’s lips.
“The greenhouse is sacred ground. Those were my words. It’s the only place in Valdif that brings in money. And you want to plant the flowers of a collapsing country there?”
“That’s quite a leap. It’s not as if herbs can only be grown there.”
“There’s a limit to foolishness. How can you treat the most important place in the territory as something trivial?”
“The flowers of the Lanta Kingdom are not trivial!”
Shaiya shouted like a sulking child, but the reply she received was cold.
“You can’t eat them. You can’t sell them. Then they are trivial.”
“Stop insulting the Lanta Kingdom!”
“That’s not something a fallen princess of a ruined nation—one who even bore the enemy leader’s child—should be saying, is it?”
Shaiya was left speechless. The servants’ jaws dropped so far they looked as if they might fall off entirely.
Gerard spoke, his face twisted in anger.
“I won’t listen to this any longer!”
“That’s fine. I’m tired of talking too.”
Anais shrugged and turned away.
Her steps were straight and confident, her expression endlessly cold.
Gerard, furious, tried to call her back, but Shaiya stopped him.
“Jerome, just let her go. All I need is to plant flowers in the greenhouse.”
She slipped into Gerard’s arms, rubbing her face against his broad chest, barely suppressing an expression of delight.
—
The next day, I was already quite far away.
‘When it comes to partings, safety is what matters.’
I had sent word to my parents’ house in advance, but there was no reply.
‘Is it because it’s too far?’
Or perhaps they still hadn’t forgiven me.
After my marriage, the distance between my parents and me had grown vast.
I hadn’t contacted them, intending to return only once I was living well. Perhaps that had hurt them even more, because little by little, they stopped reaching out too.
‘And now, after three years, the news I send them is that I’m getting divorced.’
Anyone would be taken aback.
I understood—but I couldn’t wait any longer. So I decided to hire mercenaries.
As I stepped into the mercenary guild, the manager greeted me with a bright smile.
“Welcome.”
He smiled broadly, lifting the corner of his mouth marked by a sword scar. I smiled back.
“I need a personal escort.”
“It seems the gods are watching over you, my lady. A highly skilled mercenary unit happens to be waiting for work.”
I followed him inside the building.
Inside, mercenaries were gathered in small groups, chatting noisily.
“Please wait a moment. I’ll summon the unit I recommend. Ah—of course, you may choose from among those here as well.”
At the manager’s gesture, an errand boy dashed off.
My father, Baron Serge de Laville, was a seasoned veteran of countless battles. Memories of lessons I’d picked up from him as a child surfaced.
‘There are idiots who pamper their swords but neglect their scabbards. Those who flaunt weapons stained with dried blood or tangled with hair just to show off—never deal with people like that.’
Though I was now living my third life, my father’s voice remained vivid as I examined the mercenaries.
“Ah… ah.”
An inarticulate sound, barely human, reached my ears.
It came from the very back, from behind a tent partition. When I showed interest, the manager hurried to explain.
“There are times when someone breaks a contract or causes trouble.”
It meant this was a private jail run by the guild. They needed somewhere to hold criminals with bounties or mercenaries who’d caused incidents.
I frowned slightly.
“The voice sounds very young.”
Locking up a child—I couldn’t ignore that. When I asked to see, the manager furrowed his brow.
“He’s extremely vicious. We’re concerned you might get hurt, my lady. Please do not approach.”
When I nodded at his warning, the tent was drawn back.
A small, slender figure stood gripping the bars.
“Miss…?”
The boy murmured as he looked at the manager, who snapped angrily.
“Why do you keep calling her ‘miss’?!”
The boy’s face crumpled instantly, and he snarled at the manager.
He was filthy and painfully thin—but his eyes burned with fierce light.
