Karia silently lay down beside him. In her eyes, she could see her husband’s broad and firm back. It felt like an unbreakable wall between them. But Karia didn’t cry. She had been alone for too long to cry just because she was being ignored now.
“Momma?”
“Oh, you…”
“Kristan, stop. Come here, come to Grandma.”
As she expected, life in the Duchy of Pandeon was a series of hardships. Most of it stemmed from friction with the Duchess Dowager, her husband’s mother.
Although Karia had entered the household as the Duchess, the Dowager still held a tight grip on domestic affairs and relinquished nothing.
She even kept the young lord and lady, who were still too young to think for themselves, thoroughly away from Karia.
The Dowager intentionally gave the children a bad impression of her. For the first three years of marriage, Karia had been made to live far from the capital, under the pretense that she needed to “learn the family traditions.” Meanwhile, her husband and all the retainers stayed in the capital.
Her return to the capital was only thanks to her cousin, the Crown Prince’s, inauguration ceremony. If not for an event of that scale, she might never have set foot in the capital again.
The mansion she returned to after three years did not welcome its long-absent mistress. The servants of the Ducal House all knew that the marriage was a political one made out of financial necessity, and they were embarrassed to serve a bastard-born woman as Duchess. With the Dowager’s piercing eyes constantly watching, it was nearly impossible for Karia to win them over.
Naturally, her relationship with the children—who had been raised by the Dowager—was also terrible. And her husband remained silent through it all.
She didn’t even know if the persecution she endured was by his will or not. While the marriage to Karia had put out an immediate fire, the Duchy’s finances remained dire, and the Duke was always busy trying to secure funds.
“Lady Karia, this is a gift! I didn’t make it very well, but it’s to thank you for the delicious bread!”
The only time Karia could feel at peace was when she volunteered at the orphanage she supported.
It was common for noblewomen to support orphanages or schools for the sake of their public image. But usually, that meant donating money and occasionally showing their faces.
However, Karia didn’t have much money to spend, so she couldn’t offer large donations. Instead, she wore simple clothes unbecoming of a noblewoman, rolled up her sleeves, and took care of the children. She handed out meals, read books, bathed and dressed the children who couldn’t move on their own, and even tucked them in at night.
The children adored her. Seeing their smiles made Karia feel like she was someone the world needed, and that gave her comfort.
“Lady Karia, there’s a petal on your head!”
It was a day like any other when the orphanage’s biggest troublemaker clumsily placed a flower crown on her head. The child pointed at her exposed shoulder, saying he would remove the petal. But his little fingers only scratched at her skin again and again.
“That’s strange. Lady Karia, I don’t think it’s a petal. What is this?”
“Hm, did something get on me? It’s fine. Just leave it.”
She said casually and spent the rest of the day as usual. But when she returned home and was washing up her tired body, she suddenly remembered the child’s words. She turned her back to the mirror and saw several dark red marks.
“What’s this? Huh? It won’t come off?”
Since she’d worn a dress that exposed her shoulders, she thought something might’ve gotten on her. But no matter how hard she scrubbed, the red stains wouldn’t go away.
“They’re too big to be moles… Petals? No, more like flames.”
Yes, they looked just like flames. And the moment she thought that, the spots began to burn. Clenching her teeth to keep from screaming, she endured the pain that felt like being scorched by fire.
She quickly got dressed and rushed to the manor’s infirmary. The physician, who had worked for the Pandeon family for over thirty years, examined her back and said:
“It’s clean. There are no stains anywhere.”
“That’s impossible!”
Karia jumped in shock. Just moments ago, it had felt as if she’d been seared by hot iron. She had clearly seen the marks with her own eyes. How could they be gone?
As she looked at him in disbelief, the physician sighed and repeated himself.
“You said it felt like a burn, but there’s no inflammation or heat. Perhaps you brushed against something hot during your bath?”
“No, I saw it. I really did.”
“Then it might be a mental issue. People often feel phantom pain when under stress. You should rest and take some walks to calm your body and mind.”
He couldn’t openly refuse her, but he was clearly annoyed that she kept insisting. And after all, this was that Duchess.
“Could it be a disease you don’t know about? Or a newly discovered one…”
“Are you questioning my skills?”
It was a sharp reply, inappropriate for addressing the lady of the house, but the physician didn’t apologize.
He still remembered the previous Duchess, who had been well-liked for her gentleness. To him, Karia—who shamelessly took the position before the former was even forgotten—was hard to accept.
“If you don’t trust my diagnosis, you’re free to ask the Duke for permission to summon a royal physician. Aren’t you a member of the royal family?”
Turning his back to her, the physician busied himself with tidying the desk, pretending not to see her. With no other choice, Karia left the infirmary.
“There’s… really nothing?”
Back in her room, she checked her back in the mirror—and just as he said, there were no traces. Even the searing pain had completely vanished, like it had all been a dream.
Unconvinced, yet unable to forget the pain, Karia locked herself in the library and pored over medical books.
But she didn’t have the courage to summon a royal physician. Her husband appeared maybe once or twice a month, and the royal family didn’t like her. The Emperor especially disliked having a bastard daughter—who tarnished his cherished younger brother’s honor—show her face at court. Whenever Karia went to the palace, she felt small.
“Is this all the medical books? Skin diseases…”
Fortunately, the Pandeon family had a vast library due to its long history. Since she had no official duties, Karia could spend entire days reading. Not even a servant came to call her for meals.
She spent a full week buried in medical texts but couldn’t find any illness that matched her symptoms.
“Was it really just a delusion?”
After all, the marks were gone when she checked again, and the burning pain never returned. Eventually, she dismissed the incident as a strange fluke and erased it from her mind.
That is, until four weeks later, when she went to volunteer at the orphanage again.
“Lady Karia, are you hot? You’re sweating…”
“Huh? Oh… I think I might be.”
As she served soup to the children, she felt sweat run down her spine, soaking her dress. That’s when she realized something was wrong. Her face turned pale, and cold sweat poured from her body. The children gathered around her in concern.
She tried to reassure them, but her throat burned and no words came out.
“Lady Karia!”
Then the burning pain flared up again—this time even worse than before—and she blacked out almost instantly.
“Duchess, are you awake?”
“Huh? Why… Did I faint?”
When she finally opened her eyes after a long time, Karia couldn’t remember what had happened. She sat up in bed, rubbing her bruised arm from the fall, trying to make sense of it.
But before she could fully gather her thoughts, the head of the orphanage, who had been by her side, suddenly began to cry.
“What? Why are you crying?”
“How long has this been happening to you?”
“What do you mean? It’s nothing serious. I think I’ve been anemic from the changing seasons.”
“I’m sorry to say this, but during emergency treatment, we had to open your clothes… and I saw your body.”
Karia realized she was wearing different clothes than what she’d arrived in. But given the circumstances, she wasn’t offended. What worried her more was how distraught the headmistress looked.
Karia tried to comfort her and express her gratitude, but the woman’s expression was steeped in deep sorrow.
“When did this start? When did the symptoms begin, Duchess?”
“Symptoms?”
“There’s no need to hide it from me. My grandfather was once the royal court physician.”
“Once” implied he no longer was. The headmistress looked down at the floor with a deep sigh.
Though it had been a family disgrace, she had never been ashamed of her grandfather.
“One day, the Grand Duke at the time—the current Emperor’s great uncle—died of a cursed hereditary disease that runs in the royal family. My grandfather took responsibility and left the palace. But he couldn’t bear the guilt and spent the rest of his life studying the disease. He didn’t make much progress, though.”
“A hereditary disease?”
“How much you must have suffered… How could the heavens be so cruel to such a good person…”
