A Mad Lady’s Confession - Chapter 4

“How does it feel to be back in the capital after so long?”

“Nothing seems to have changed, Your Highness.”

Klaus, who had brought Matthias into a separate chamber, chuckled at his reply.

“The capital’s always like that. It hates change, new things, and anything different from the rest. As if it were some kind of contagious disease.”

“Is that so?”

“Compared to Gammelstad, the capital must seem far behind. I heard a ‘four-wheeled carriage driven by a machine’ was introduced there, wasn’t it?”

Gammelstad, where all sorts of new inventions arrived faster than anywhere else in Lemren, overflowed with innovation. The Crown Prince was referring to one such invention recently brought through the waterways.

“It’s still in the experimental stage, so its safety isn’t guaranteed yet, but if you wish to see it, I can have one sent to the capital.”

Pouring amber-colored rum into a crystal glass, Klaus spoke with feigned disappointment, “I told you not to be so formal when it’s just us.”

“Well.”

Matthias quietly lifted the glass and gave a faint smile.

“Can we really say it’s just us, Your Highness?”

At those words, Klaus’s expression faltered.

Composed once more, Matthias spoke softly toward the air, “Shall I escort Her Highness out, then?”

After a brief silence, a small figure emerged from a hidden door behind the room. The woman, slowly lifting the lace veil from her head, greeted him in a calm voice.

“It’s been a while, Duke Nielsen.”

The woman with elegantly pinned platinum-blond hair extended her hand. Rising from his seat, Matthias took her slender, white fingers and pressed his lips to the back of her hand.

“It’s an honor to see Your Highness, Princess.”

It was a simple, formal greeting, yet the air inside the room instantly grew dry. Perhaps unable to endure the stiffness, the woman spoke again.

“When it’s just us, I’d like you to call me Daphne, like before.”

Just as they had when they were fifteen.

“Your Highness and the Crown Prince seem to have quite a broad definition of ‘just us.’”

At that, Daphne and Klaus both flinched as if struck where it hurt most.

Matthias, leaving the two frozen in place, irreverently took the seat first and gestured to them.

“Then why don’t we sit down and talk? It seems there’s a reason you’ve both called me here together.”

Though the suggestion ignored proper decorum, the two complied and took their seats.

Matthias turned his gaze to Daphne, who sat on the opposite couch. The princess, the same age as him, had retained the gentle features of her youth, now refined into a serene beauty.

It had been about a year since he last saw Daphne Fram. In that short time, his former fiancée had become a woman soaked in mature allure. Matthias studied her as if observing a specimen.

When their eyes met, she blushed around the corners of her eyes, just as she always had.

“I heard there’s talk of your engagement.”

Klaus broke the silence first.

“Yes.”

“Have you met the lady yourself?”

“Not yet, but I expect I will soon.”

There was no rush. The process was predictable. Matthias replied evenly.

They’d probably stage an ‘accidental’ encounter sometime next week and announce the engagement before summer’s end. By custom, the wedding would take place the following spring.

As Matthias calculated the timeline and took a sip of rum, Klaus spoke abruptly.

“I’m afraid I must ask you to withdraw from that engagement.”

At the unexpected statement, Matthias raised an eyebrow in question.

The Crown Prince, who had always worn a calm and amiable expression, now looked troubled, his face flushing red.

“I need your help, Matty.”

At the old childhood nickname, Matthias frowned. “Help you, Your Highness? You’ll have to be more specific.”

“…Well, it’s about that matter from two years ago. The Brynhill family is demanding an explanation.”

Klaus hesitated, but a calm, low voice from across the room spoke in his place. Matthias turned to the woman sitting motionless like a statue.

“Two years ago?”

As he repeated it, fragments of memory surfaced—like the back view of a woman that once filled a newspaper page.

“Is this an official request?”

“No, not yet…. Lady Brynhill is returning to the capital. She’s still young, and they can’t keep her hidden forever, so it seems they’re searching for a suitable husband. But as you know, the young lady….”

Daphne couldn’t finish her sentence. But everyone present already knew the unspoken words.

The youngest daughter of the Brynhill family, Eleanor Brynhill, would never be able to marry within the Empire. Not in her current state.

“They want clear confirmation and at least partial restoration of her honor concerning the scandal from two years ago…. About the rumors that spread at the time. If His Highness the Crown Prince doesn’t respond, they’re saying they’ll bring it before the Noble Tribunal to clarify the truth.”

Matthias didn’t understand. Wasn’t everything already resolved back then?

Why now, after two whole years?

“What kind of explanation does Count Brynhill expect? What truth is he talking about? That incident was already—”

“That’s not what matters, Matthias!”

Klaus, who had been clutching his head with a flushed face, suddenly shouted.

“The truth from two years ago doesn’t matter anymore! Not now. What matters right now is that the Imperial Family… His Majesty won’t tolerate another scandal!”

Even without hearing the rest, Matthias could already see where this was going.

Two years ago, a young debutante had allegedly harmed Giela Düsseldorf, the Crown Prince’s lover at the time.

The Imperial physician had issued an official statement saying the perpetrator suffered from a mental deficiency, so the matter was quietly settled as a reckless act committed by a foolish, unstable young girl. But the Imperial Family had still been swept up in scandal.

The biggest rumor was that the Crown Prince, Giela, and Lady Brynhill had been entangled in a sordid love triangle. Yet, in truth, neither the Crown Prince nor Giela had even known Lady Brynhill personally. As for the lady herself, she had claimed not to remember anything from that day and refused to reveal any connection between them.

With no clarity, speculation ran rampant.

In Belgar, a city capable of creating shocking news overnight from the smallest hint, those rumors multiplied with time.

Then “the Paper” joined in, and before long, Eleanor Brynhill became the villainess of the century. Because of that, the Imperial Family’s scandal had naturally been buried beneath her own.

Klaus muttered in despair, “…Lady Charlotte is pregnant.”

“….”

“My father’s going to remarry.”

Lady Charlotte, His Majesty’s fourth consort and current favorite, was rumored to soon become the new empress.

“If she gives birth to a son, then I….”

The current emperor, Vigridmann von Bernstorff, had been infamous for his lust since his youth.

Having had two empresses and four mistresses, he was the source of countless scandals. Ironically, though, he despised rumors involving the Imperial Family. Especially now, when he was about to remarry.

“His Majesty’s finally calmed down. We can’t afford to stir up another scandal in the capital.”

Matthias swiftly pieced everything together.

In short, the concern was that the Brynhill family might reignite the controversy from two years ago. The last thing they wanted was to muddy the waters again after finally settling them.

But what could he possibly do about it? Even if there was a solution, Matthias Nielsen never acted unless it benefited him. After finishing his calculations, he spoke lightly.

Matthias’s answer came cold and dry.

“I don’t think there’s anything I can do to help.”

He began to rise, as if he saw no reason to listen any further.

“No, Matthias. There is something you can do.”

Klaus, with eyes weak and cowardly like his father’s, finally spoke.

“I want you to marry that young lady.”

A short laugh escaped Matthias—half disbelief, half mockery. But the two of them seemed entirely composed, as if the decision had already been made.

“Ha.”

A short laugh escaped Matthias—half disbelief, half mockery. But the two of them seemed entirely composed, as if the decision had already been made.

“Matty, if it’s you, the Brynhill family won’t object any longer. You’re a Nielsen. Where else in the Empire, or the entire world, could they find a better groom? So—”

“So, you’re telling me to pick up a madwoman and make her my wife?”

“Matthias.”

“Ha. Haha. This is it? This is what the two of you—‘just us’ was it?—came up with?”

His laugh was sharp and hollow, and his expression turned glacial.

Aside from the emperor himself, the rightful master of this empire and this space was the Crown Prince. Yet, at times, Klaus felt as though Matthias’s presence strangled him like a noose.

Whenever he stood before Matthias Nielsen, he couldn’t help but question who the true favorite of the gods really was.

Matthias always treated him with impeccable manners and perfect courtesy, yet something about it felt different from others. It felt as though such treatment was something Matthias had graciously allowed him to have.

That long-nurtured inferiority complex reared its head now and then, but in this moment, facing Matthias’s unmasked, piercing coldness, it provoked genuine fear.

“…I’ll give you the imperial mines in Söderk.”

Matthias’s expression didn’t soften, so Klaus hurriedly added, “And the fertile farmlands of Vogelmann that belong to me personally. Just take the woman for one year, Matthias. One year… that’s all I ask.”

It was a plea stripped of all princely dignity and authority, an act of begging.