Beneath the Surviving Princess's Joyful Facade - Chapter 77

Eirik sat beside the peacefully sleeping Miesa, a bitter smile on his lips.

How desperate must his clever wife have been to accept such a flimsy promise without the slightest doubt?

It was all just wordplay. The promise was simply that he wouldn’t die in front of her. And as for swearing on the family’s name—what meaning would that hold if he failed in his rebellion and was executed? The name would vanish, reduced to mere letters.

The house existed because he was alive, and if he died, House Cladnier would be obliterated. If Eirik failed in his rebellion and was executed, it wouldn’t just be the loss of a head of the house like the former Duke of Sallakeze; the entire family would be destroyed by the king.

Miesa, holding tightly to his clothes, slept soundly. Eirik gazed at her weary face and gently kissed her lips.

The next morning, the Great Madam of Cladnier was having breakfast with her husband. In the quiet, the Retired Margrave suddenly looked at her and said, “Living like this is nice.”

“Pardon?” she responded, a bit taken aback.

“We’ve never been this close before.”

Madam Cladnier found herself at a loss for words and simply smiled, her eyes crinkling.

However, her husband, the former margrave, seemed genuinely happy. His face, usually furrowed with worry, now bore a bright expression she couldn’t even remember the last time she had seen.

“Stepping down as head of the house feels lighter than I expected. And seeing Eirik at the vassals’ meeting last time, I think he’ll do well.”

“……”

Madam Cladnier’s face gradually hardened. Such words from her husband were certainly unexpected. “Don’t worry too much. Eirik has grown better than I anticipated.”

Assuming his wife’s subdued reaction stemmed from concern for their son, the former margrave leaned towards her, chuckling. “Remember, Eirik is practically my sole handiwork.”

“I think he grew well on his own.”

She had been about to cut her salad but paused at her husband’s words.

It was clear she hadn’t been the one to raise Eirik. Now that she thought about it, though she had never given it much thought before…

After giving birth to Rosier, she had fallen ill and hovered near death, only to recover and find her children much grown. And not long after, when Eirik was twelve, father and son had left for the battlefield together.

“…You’re right. Looking back, you did raise Eirik.”

She now understood why her son had been so troubled by his father’s changes. The bond they had formed was strong.

“Thank you. Thank you for raising Eirik so well.”

Her gratitude stemmed more from pity for her son’s disappointment in his father than genuine recognition of her husband’s efforts. But rationally, she knew it was right to acknowledge his contribution.

“You must have taught him a lot during his childhood and on the battlefield. Come to think of it, I haven’t really been much of a mother to Eirik.”

Upon hearing this, Lord Cladnier quickly turned his head away, hiding his face.

Why is he acting strangely during breakfast? Madam Cladnier wondered if she should respond to her husband’s behavior or continue eating her salad. Eventually, she sighed and set down her fork.

“Honey, are you alright?”

“I can’t believe it… You…”

From the direction in which he had turned, there was a faint sound of him sniffing.

“…You thanked me…”

Madam Cladnier tried not to frown but found herself leaning back slightly. It was clear her husband was experiencing a midlife crisis.

The rest of breakfast was quiet. However, Madam Cladnier’s plans underwent a significant change.

Recognizing her husband’s contribution to raising Eirik and considering her son’s affection for his father, she thought perhaps she didn’t need to kill him right away. With that thought, she finished her meal in silence.

“By the way, we’re getting fitted for clothes tomorrow, and I’m wondering if I should inform my mother about the scars on your body.”

“What clothes?” Miesa’s eyes widened in surprise.

“There’s the Harvest Festival in a month.”

“Oh… Am I going too?”

“Yes, you have to. Everyone will be there,” Eirik added quietly, “because the king will want it.”

At his words, Miesa grew visibly uneasy. Eirik thought she feared standing before the king, but that wasn’t the issue.

“Can’t I wear what I already have? I’m not ready for this yet.”

“Do you dislike getting a new dress made?”

“If they’re making the dress, they’ll have to touch my body and look at me closely. It’s uncomfortable and frightening. I’m sure they’ll notice,” Miesa explained, her voice trembling.

“I understand,” Eirik replied.

Recognizing her concerns, Eirik sought out his mother early the next morning.

“Mother, I need to speak with you.”

“What is it, at this hour?” she asked, handing a flower she didn’t like from the vase to a maid.

“Please excuse the others for a moment,” Eirik requested.

“Alright. Everyone, leave us,” she commanded.

Once the maids had left, Eirik spoke in a low voice, “Miesa still seems unsettled, so it would be best to have her dress tailored based on her existing one.”

Madam Cladnier frowned. “…There’s no choice then. But she can’t wear those loose clothes she has now.”

“I think the white dress she wore on the day she arrived will do.”

“Oh, that dress. Still…” his mother replied, looking disappointed.

“Nobody will praise Miesa for wearing fine clothes,” Eirik said firmly.

“That’s true. There’s no other option,” she conceded.

The first matter was settled easily. Eirik then brought up his second concern. “I have no idea how the king will treat Miesa. We must prepare ourselves and be ready for anything.”

Madam Cladnier raised an eyebrow but nodded. “I understand. Whatever happens, I must pretend not to see it. We can’t afford to make any mistakes.”

She then asked her son, “What’s the situation with the vassals?”

“So far, there have been no negative comments. Baron Killian is quite capable, so I’ve entrusted him with various tasks.”

“Good. I’ve been looking into the late king’s mistresses, but there hasn’t been much progress.”

It wasn’t easy to fabricate an illegitimate child for the late king. Madam Cladnier voice dropped to a whisper. “I’m currently investigating the maids who were dismissed under scandalous circumstances back then. If we can claim they were falsely accused and actually bore the king’s child, it might be convincing.”

“That makes sense,” Eirik agreed.

But with the late king having passed over twenty years ago, it was no easy task.

“We have to try, though. By the way, has the Marquis of Crispin been quiet since then?”

“Yes. Our people are also coming through Nieas Harbor smoothly. The placement of weapons in the intermediate region will start soon.”

Things were progressing slowly, but still moving forward.

The biggest issue was finding a new king that the nobles would accept.

***

Miesa was once again in her room, playing with her treasure box.

The wrapper that had once held cookies was plain, devoid of any patterns or colors, yet Miesa was intently sniffing it as if the scent hadn’t long faded.

She opened and closed the paper repeatedly, as if cookies might still be inside, even smiling at the imaginary sight of them.

Not only that, but she would also hold out coins as if there were an invisible shop clerk. When Gella caught her eye, Miesa beamed.

“Gella, pretend to be the clerk. Sell me these cookies.”

“…Madam, how about we go out again, like last time? It must be boring to stay indoors all the time,” Gella suggested, unable to hide her concern.

“I’m fine. This is comfortable,” Miesa replied.

“Oh, come on,” Gella said, trying to encourage her.

Gella had a rough idea of Miesa’s situation. But just as no one likes being confined to a prison cell, Gella believed Miesa was forcing herself to cope.

“But I really am fine,” Miesa insisted.

“Still, madam, you saw so many fascinating things when you went out last time,” Gella reminded her.

“That’s true…”

“When the master returns, I’ll ask him. Alright?” Gella offered.

“Hmm…” Miesa murmured, considering the idea.

Miesa had indeed enjoyed seeing all the new things and people during their last outing. She had even kept the cookie wrapper, unable to throw it away.

However, Miesa felt uneasy about Cullen. She worried that Eirik wouldn’t like her meeting Cullen and that she might make mistakes without knowing what she did wrong. It felt safer to stay in her room.