Chapter 5
If you hear nonsense often enough, it starts to sound plausible.
Before long, even Josephine and Tanya—who had lived with me the entire time Gerard was away—began to chime in.
‘Well, that herb merchant does have a lot of money. Anais insisted on dealing only with him, didn’t she?’
That was because he paid the highest prices and never cheated.
Tanya’s suspicion was even more absurd.
‘Sister-in-law was always surrounded by male servants.’
Of course she was. If you’re harvesting and transporting herbs, how could you not be?
When people prattle on endlessly with baseless talk, even things that never happened start to feel real. Their imaginations didn’t take long to harden into “truth.”
No one took my side.
Not even my husband.
I was too young and too naive. I believed that if I showed my sincerity, the misunderstandings would someday clear, so I only tried harder.
In the end, I was branded an adulteress and driven out with nothing.
Gerard’s voice pulled me out of that horrific memory.
“Among the capital’s nobility, many keep lovers. When you have wealth, relationships between men and women can be as free as you like. Anais, please don’t be foolish. You’re a countess now.”
He had said the exact same thing in my previous life.
What did I say back then?
‘All I want is you.’
I’d said it through tears.
I steadied my breathing.
The Anais Gerard knew no longer existed.
She had died miserably, and in the process endured more than enough trials and betrayals. I was no longer foolish enough to cling to empty hope and let myself be dragged along.
“Not everyone is like you. Some people don’t move according to their urges,” I said, chewing over every word.
“I have no intention of behaving like you.”
Channeling the resentment and fury carried from my past life, I pressed my finger into his chest.
“Move.”
To my surprise, Gerard was pushed back easily. Perhaps he hadn’t expected the always-submissive me to react this way—he looked momentarily flustered.
That fluster quickly turned into irritation.
“There’s a limit to my patience,” he said, like a warning. “I expect you to act in a manner befitting a countess.”
I hadn’t expected this conversation to go anywhere.
Without hesitation, I turned away. Then he called out again.
“Hey.”
I reluctantly looked back. He held out his hand.
“Take this.”
It was an old key.
At the same time, the most humiliating moment of my life resurfaced.
—
Three years ago, on the day Gerard left for the battlefield, Josephine summoned me early in the morning.
“You called for me?”
“Why are you so late? Even a maggot would be faster than you.”
Tanya, sitting beside Josephine, pouted. Until I succeeded in cultivating medicinal herbs, they had treated me cruelly.
Something was tossed at my feet with a dull thud.
A chastity belt.
An object wives were made to wear—or forced to put on themselves—when their husbands were away for long periods. It was a barbaric custom that had long since disappeared, something you only read about in history books.
Then came the merciless order.
“Put it on.”
It felt as if ice-cold water had been poured over the crown of my head.
‘This is an heirloom passed down through generations in our family. You don’t get to wear it recklessly, so consider it an honor.’
It was true that it had been passed down—this grotesque garment, which looked like underwear, was rusty in places.
But that wasn’t the end.
Clang!
Something hit the chastity belt, clattering loudly as it fell to the floor.
It was the key to the belt.
‘A daughter-in-law should at least show some sincerity to uphold our family’s honor. Give the key to our son when you see him off later.’
I swallowed my tears and handed the key to Gerard as he prepared to leave for the battlefield.
With both hands.
—
Shivering at the memory of that miserable day, I pulled out a handkerchief. I couldn’t bear to touch it with bare hands—it was a horrifying object.
Using the handkerchief, I picked up the key and dropped it to the floor.
“What are you doing?”
Gerard furrowed his brows.
I didn’t want to speak. I just acted.
I crushed the key under my foot. Underneath the worn shoes of commoners, I could feel every ridge of the key.
If I had worn heels, I would have broken it with the stiff back of the shoe. But my anger hadn’t subsided, so I stomped it into the ground with the tips of my shoes, burying it.
“I threw it away before. Why? Because unlike your armor, it was old and decrepit. I couldn’t let the iron rust on you.”
Gerard’s chest heaved dramatically, as if he hadn’t expected such words.
“Do you even understand the pain behind every tear that ran down my cheek as I unclasped that horrific, humiliating chastity belt?”
I turned sharply, my voice icy.
“Even while being treated like that, I remained loyal like a dog. How can you do this? You aren’t even human!”
I could feel his gaze from behind, but I didn’t stop.
‘Wait. I’ll make you pay back exactly what you put me through!’
Gerard stood frozen.
The woman he once loved was slipping away from him.
‘Once loved…’
He never thought he’d use that word for Anais.
He had loved her with all his life—so much so that he hid his departure for the battlefield even up until their wedding. If he could have had her as his wife, chivalry or honor didn’t matter.
It had been the same on the battlefield. Every day, every moment, he thought of her—even under the relentless onslaught of enemies and a sky filled with arrows.
‘When did it start?’
When he had swept through both towns and villages? When he had trampled the Lanta royal palace under horse hooves?
Or perhaps when he found Shiaya collapsed among the ruins?
From that point, his memories of life in Valdif grew hazy.
Anais faded from his mind, and Shiaya filled it completely. It wasn’t until he returned to his estate and saw her that he remembered the wife he had loved more than anything in the world.
Her once-curvaceous body was gone, reduced to twig-like frailty. Her once-delicate hands were roughened like a farmer’s wife’s.
His gaze fell to the key lying on the ground.
‘Her shoes… they’re so worn out.’
Naturally, he remembered the shoes his parents and sister wore—shoes dyed in expensive colors.
‘Why is my wife—the woman who enriched this estate—forced to wear worn-out shoes? The spendthrifts wear expensive shoes…’
He couldn’t not know. He knew what kind of people his parents and sister were, so he could imagine the treatment Anais endured while he was gone.
He brushed the handkerchief along her palm. His chest tightened.
“Anais.”
Even saying her name made his emotions surge.
But the war had destroyed everything.
Supplies were cut off; starvation was commonplace. With only a thin shield to rely on, he cut through enemies beneath a rain of arrows. Every single day was like that.
Then one day, he was left alone behind enemy lines. The rescue party never came.
Alone, he had thrown himself into survival with every ounce of strength.
In other words, he had returned from hell itself.
‘Anais, if you knew what I went through, you wouldn’t be acting like this now.’
Of course, Gerard had heard the whispers of the servants.
He knew everything Anais had done while he was away—being bitten by snakes while scouring mountains, being chased by wolf packs. He even knew that when he was reported dead, she prayed every day for his safe return.
‘So I came back. I fulfilled your wish.’
He felt a twinge of guilt for bringing Shiaya along.
But if he admitted that, he thought Anais might find a reason to torment Shiaya, so he kept silent.
‘She’s feistier than I expected. This will be tricky.’
If Shiaya gave birth, Anais would eventually stop being so stubborn.
‘She’s a good woman. Once she helps raise the child, she’ll gradually open her heart.’
If only she endured, the entire household would be at ease.
‘Eventually, she’ll wear herself out.’
There was nothing more troublesome than trying to appease a sulking woman.
In such complicated moments, only one person came to mind.
“Shiaya.”
Calling the name of the woman he loved, he headed toward the bedroom.
—
When I entered my chambers, Shiaya—the other half of the pair of mischief—was waiting.
She perched on my desk, swinging her feet.
“Anais!”
She grinned like a child, waving her hands wildly. Whatever humiliation she had endured at the greenhouse seemed completely forgotten.
I sighed, and her eyes immediately narrowed sharply.
“What’s with that reaction? Even if you’re ruined, you’re still a princess of the kingdom. So arrogant.”
“I’m a countess of the Empire in perfect health. And for a mistress freely entering her husband’s legitimate wife’s chambers, a mere sigh is generous treatment.”
I tapped Shiaya’s shoulder with a document. She wiggled her hips but refused to get off the desk.
“Am I not allowed here?”
“Only if you inform me beforehand and I give permission.”
“Someone this beautiful should consider it an honor to appear unannounced.”
I remained silent. Shiaya shrugged.
“You’re no fun—like a block of wood. That’s why Gerard doesn’t even look your way.”
She shrank her neck, realizing she’d misspoken, and then giggled sheepishly.
