Beneath the Surviving Princess's Joyful Facade - Chapter 64

Eirik wanted to scream out of frustration. This was unlike him. What could she have been trying to say with “I” that made her blush and trail off?

He knew something was troubling her, but he couldn’t solve a problem she wouldn’t share. For exactly two weeks now, all she had said was “thank you,” “I’m fine,” and “no.” Was there a specific reason for this?

After spending so long every day interpreting her clumsy words, observing her demeanor carefully, and teaching her about the world, this was the result. If his efforts over the past half year had been in vain, nothing he did would matter. Having done everything he could only to end up like this, Eirik felt a deep sense of powerlessness.

Reflecting on everything from the Tilberg incident to the current situation, all he felt was betrayal. Was her timid appearance genuine, or was it merely an act to avoid difficult questions?

If she had truly been as simple-minded as a child, he wouldn’t have felt such self-reproach. But Miesa was too clever, her depths hard to measure.

Tilberg was no longer a significant issue for him. The real problem was that Miesa had planted seeds of anxiety and doubt in his heart.

With these thoughts, he strode into his office and threw the door open.

“Commander.”

It was the knight he had taken note of before. Quick-witted and agile, he had entrusted him with some important tasks.

“Have we received a response?”

“Grand Duke Hagail does not wish for a visit.”

“Even if it’s a discreet one?”

“I’ve heard he was very adamant about it.”

Was there some stubborn streak in the royal blood? Eirik frowned.

“And his daily routine?”

“He wakes up late in the afternoon and sleeps in the morning.”

Eirik clicked his tongue in annoyance. “Get a plumber’s outfit. We’ll leave tomorrow afternoon…”

The image of Miesa from today lingered in his mind. Since the Grand Duke also woke up late, he could visit her briefly before departing.

“Around four o’clock,” he said, finalizing his plans.

***

“Call a meeting of the vassals,” Margravine Cladnier commanded.

“Why don’t you do it yourself?” the Margrave retorted, showing a sudden burst of energy despite claiming earlier that he had no strength to leave his bed.

“Don’t misunderstand,” Margravine Cladnier said calmly, a sharp contrast to her husband’s tone. “It’s not that I can’t do it. I just think it would be better if you handled the final steps.”

“You want to ensure there’s no controversy over Eirik’s succession, right? To prevent anyone from questioning its legitimacy later on,” the Margrave responded, his rare display of insight apparent.

If only he could be this perceptive more often, Margravine Cladnier thought, shaking her head. Her patience, now so deep, had been forged in the fires of his temper. Their discussions had often been more heated than calm.

“So, have you found a suitable match?” he asked.

“What do you mean?” she replied.

“All this time you’ve been spending outside, is it because you want to take a younger lover?”

“Ah,” Margravine Cladnier mused, briefly contemplating the idea of killing him.

It might be simpler and less troublesome if he were out of the picture. A flurry of calculations raced through her mind.

“Why aren’t you answering?” the Margrave pressed.

“Taliesa!” he called, impatience in his voice.

“No, not a man,” she finally replied, an affectionate smile gracing her lips.

For now, she couldn’t take any drastic steps. There could be no doubts about their son’s succession. Once that was settled, the Margrave would no longer be necessary. His interference would be more of a hindrance than help, and it might be best to get rid of him altogether.

Why hadn’t she thought of this before? With a gentle tone, she continued, “You know I have no interest in such things. And socializing with the other ladies has its own joys, something you wouldn’t understand.”

The Margrave had to be kept on her side, especially without any rumors of infidelity.

“Well then…” he began, blinking in surprise at her sudden sweetness.

“Yes?” she prompted.

“No, it’s just that… I mean…” he stammered, his face turning red, though this was of no concern to her. She was busy contemplating other matters. Ah, she reminded herself, she needed to appear more noticeable to the King as well.

“If you don’t mind…,” he began hesitantly.

If she was going to handle this, it might as well be timed with the Harvest Festival banquet. Being in mourning could be a convenient excuse to avoid the unpleasant social gathering, and the King couldn’t object.

“Shall we have dinner together later?”

Eirik must not find out. If he did, he might feel guilty, given his nature.

“Taliesa?”

“Yes?”

The Margravine smiled softly, looking at her husband. How many times had she had to handle matters that her stubborn husband couldn’t? And now, the final piece to handle stood right before her.

“Is that a yes or no?”

“Sorry, I didn’t hear you,” she quickly added before the Margrave’s face could turn any redder.

“You look very pale. Have you lost weight?”

“Ahem, well…”

“Your face is looking a bit more like it used to. So, what did you say?” she prompted gently.

***

“Haaam… Oh my, I’m sorry,” Gella yawned again. Miesa shook her head and took a big bite of bread, chewing slowly.

Gella looked visibly tired. With her late-night herb mixing and returning at dawn, it was no wonder.

“Won’t you eat more? You should have some more of this too…”

“I’m fine,” Miesa replied, using the hand signals for [I] and [sleep].

Gella stopped insisting as Miesa quietly climbed into bed.

“It’s probably not Karilla… but something still seems off,” Gella muttered as she checked Miesa’s tongue.

“The medicine you’ll take tomorrow might upset your stomach. But just in case…”

Miesa thought it was no big deal, but Gella was already worried. Miesa closed her eyes, hoping Gella’s efforts wouldn’t be in vain.

“Good night, young madam,” Gella said, leaving the light on as requested.

But Miesa couldn’t see the candle’s light. As always, she buried herself under the blankets and waited for morning to come.

Time passed slowly. In the past, when Eirik spent time with her, time seemed to fly by.

I’m afraid. In the midst of her confusing and turbulent emotions, Miesa unconsciously touched the empty spot beside her.

She missed the times when he would always hold her tenderly and laugh at everything she said. But now, he would only sit in the chair next to the bed, looking around to see if she needed anything. Once he was done, he would leave the room in a hurry, as if it were only natural.

Duty. Responsibility. Even though Miesa was not good at understanding people’s feelings, she could sense that he was doing his best. And she also sensed that he was doing it out of a sense of obligation rather than desire.

It was useless to understand his feelings now. Miesa knew that unless she changed, no problem could be resolved.

“So… I…”

So, Miesa whispered to herself under the covers.

“That’s not it… no…”

But her tongue felt stiff, and the words wouldn’t come out right.

She wanted to cry. But her tear ducts had dried up long ago, and she had forgotten how to weep.

“I… am…”

Even as she hardened like an old tree in a barren land, not knowing when she would be able to speak to him again, Miesa practiced speaking every night.

***

Are you busy? Very busy? Why are you busy? What do you do when you’re not with me?

I can do it. I can do it.

I’m sorry I couldn’t say it properly back then. I was actually scared. I’m so used to thinking alone that I was afraid you might stand up to the king.

And the next part goes like this.

Don’t do anything. I’ve seen a lot of people die. Really, a lot.

If you really plan to do something…

No. You’ll die. I don’t want you to die.

If you ask why…

Because I, you… So…