When Did You First Meet Her?
"It's been some time since that day, Duke."
Yet even his composed gaze and his steady voice pricked at me like thorns I couldn't brush away.
"Your Highness, allow me to congratulate you once more on your marriage. To be invited to such a splendid and magnificent banquet is an honor, and I consider this a truly blessed day."
Whether it was my single-minded resolve for vengeance, the excessive opulence of this place, or the sight of Antoni himself, my heart thudded heavily in my chest.
I forced a faint smile, feigning calm.
"May Błędia's blessing be upon you, Duke. Now that you've come all this way, how does it strike you? Princess Warsza prepared this banquet faithfully—surely nothing is lacking."
Henrik wore no particular smile, but there was a calm, unhurried ease about him.
"Well said, Your Highness. I've been singing nothing but praises to Princess Warsza myself. And yet, even amid this dazzling banquet, where nothing is wanting, one thing caught my eye in particular. Might I ask where that lovely pink jewel came from?"
With a soft gesture, Antoni pointed toward the table. Henrik deliberately kept his gaze on me as he answered.
"My consort prepared it. Even the delegation was impressed."
"Ah, of course. Her Highness the Consort is indeed wise."
And what, exactly, gives you the right to act so familiar?
I wanted to knit my brows together, but there were far too many eyes around me, and I barely held it in. Should I give anyone cause to think there was trouble between me and the Duke from Francia, it could do nothing but harm to my reputation.
Still wearing that fake smile, I stole a careful glance at Henrik's expression. He seemed perfectly ordinary. Of course he was—nothing about this could discomfort him.
"In truth, it was thanks to Prince Henrik's careful attention that the banquet that day went off so well. And to think he credits it all to me."
At last Henrik curled his lips into that faint smile of his and gently took my hand—plainly for the audience around us to see. I played along just enough and kept the conversation flowing.
"I see. Ah, and there is something I wish to offer you and the Princess as well. I do hope you'll find it to your liking."
Before long, the exchange of the lavish gifts Antoni had brought from Francia was underway. Then he singled out one of the presents carried by the servants, lifted it himself, and stepped closer to me as if to show it off.
"This one struck me as suiting Her Highness the Consort so well that I simply had to deliver it in person."
As though displaying a glittering piece of jewelry, Antoni reached out to seize my wrist. There was unmistakable intent in that touch, and I recoiled as if from something crawling on my skin, my voice rising.
"Duke, what is the meaning of—"
Regret surged up at once. I slipped. I shouldn't have let my feelings show like that.
"The gift is appreciated, Duke."
The familiar voice came from behind me.
It was Henrik. His arm settled around my shoulders in an instant, and I was transformed into the image of a delicate wife leaning into her husband's broad chest.
"You'd best be careful. My consort is a rather delicate creature. Here—I'll take that myself."
With perfect composure, Henrik pushed back the rude, shameless man.
Not a soul in the room dared to speak, and the air nearly turned glacial—but Antoni withdrew obediently, both hands raised.
"Your Highness, I merely wished to express my gratitude for the invitation. I had no intention whatsoever of committing an impropriety, and I ask for your generous understanding."
My teeth ground together of their own accord. This was no place to call out that smooth-tongued snake as he deserved, and it was obvious that Antoni had counted on exactly that.
Henrik neither sighed nor showed his anger. He simply acted as though nothing had happened at all—which served his interests and mine alike. I, too, smoothed back my hair and feigned composure.
Without ever leaving the circle of Henrik's arm.
By the look of it, Antoni had come here in person for one reason only: to confirm my condition, nothing more.
Mother's mirror had issued no particular warning either. I would need to dig out exactly what was in his heart, but perhaps there was no great cause for worry.
It did surprise me a little that Selena hadn't come along. Attached to him as inseparably as they'd been back then, flaunting themselves, it would have been far easier for her to provoke me.
Which made it a good thing for me. Dealing with Antoni alone was trial enough—and there was no particular reason to be ruffled by the rest of the party who'd accompanied him from Francia.
I made it safely through the meal, and as the banquet stretched on, I found myself longing for even a moment's rest. Holding nothing but that fake smile for so long had my face threatening to cramp.
"Your Highness, I'll step away to rest a while."
"By all means, my lady. There is a private chamber within—go and rest comfortably."
With Henrik's leave, I followed a maid's guidance into the long corridor stretching inward from the banquet hall.
It was sparsely traveled, and with only a few candles lit against the dark, it stood in such stark contrast to the brilliant lights and music adorning the banquet hall that I felt my shoulders ease at last.
"Whew. I feel alive again."
The moment I entered the sitting room, I opened the window and let the outside air wash over me. The sun must have been setting, for the sky was red.
Refreshments for guests had been laid out as well. I sank onto the sofa with a fragrant fruit tea, intending to savor this brief reprieve—
"So this is where you were. I've been searching everywhere for you."
Antoni stepped into the room.
"……Antoni."
In that instant, two impulses surged up within me at once. Should I go out right now and summon Henrik or one of his knights—or should I prove myself, right here?
No matter how positively this country's high society regarded assertive women, for a prince's consort to be alone with a foreign man was a transgression all the same.
But then, should I flee from him like a scared rabbit and go running to Henrik?
Hadn't I already planned to play along at this banquet and plumb the depths of Antoni's heart?
I chose the latter. It seemed I did need to hear what he had to say first.
He didn't seem likely to do anything foolishly hostile. That would escalate into a serious diplomatic incident.
It was only conversation, after all.
……And if it's Henrik, he'll have posted a knight on me in secret anyway.
Resolved to shout if it came to that, I smoothed my face into perfect calm in the space of a breath.
"I was resting alone."
"I know, Leti. Don't worry—I made certain no one was about before I came."
I barely swallowed the curse that leapt to my tongue.
"Speaking that way, and calling me by that name—it's a breach of etiquette."
"It's only because it's so familiar to me."
It was abundantly clear my patience would be tested without end tonight. That damned Antoni looked utterly at ease.
Just as he had in the days when we shared a marriage bed.
"I was afraid you might have misunderstood something, so I simply had to speak with you. Leti, my heart was sincere, but…… at the time, there was nothing I could do."
Meeting those spring-water eyes made me want to hurl something at his head this very moment, so I dropped my gaze instead. The hand holding my teacup was trembling faintly.
"Even with everyone calling you the witch's daughter, you said you would never change. Didn't you, Antoni?"
I put on the mournful tone befitting a woman who'd been cast aside. If I didn't express even that much, it would have been stranger still.
I had already shown Selena my share of resentment, and word of it was sure to have reached Antoni's ears.
As long as my true plan for vengeance stayed hidden, nothing else mattered. And here he was, thrusting old memories at me himself.
Antoni stood by the door, making no move to approach me, wearing an expression of tender regret.
"……Leti, I trusted that you of all people would understand."
Don't let your resentment show, Attilenta. I know. I know. I truly did try, as hard as I could, to speak calmly.
But there was one thing I had to say.
"……You're the one who declared our divorce. In front of everyone."
Antoni gave me the same gentle smile from those days.
"How novel, hearing you speak down to me."
You dare lecture me about propriety?
Antoni—I truly did respect you once. The fact that I, a member of a royal house, used honorifics with you—that, too, was everything Gemma drilled into me.
"Circumstances are very different now."
"Not so very different. I am only serving my country. Just as we did when we were together."
How can he spout the exact same words as Selena? Are they so brazen now that they'll flaunt it to my face?
"Surely not, Leti. A woman as brilliant and devoted as you wouldn't have come to this country to sell something out from under it."
Behind his faint smile, Antoni's voice dropped to something velvety and insinuating.
"What did that prince whisper to you? I never once imagined the two of you were on speaking terms. Leti, you…… you were never the sort of woman to be won over so easily by a man like that……"
Antoni was watching me with unmistakable scrutiny, as if he'd miss not one flicker of my expression, not one gesture of my hand. I laced my fingers together to hide the fine tremor.
"I felt it the moment I met him at the last banquet. He's the sort who wears one face outside and another within. You can hardly expect me not to worry—whether my naive Leti has been taken in."
Of all things to be set before me, it had to be a dish barely fit for his own measure. A blade would have been nice. I stared down at the gleaming silver plate and pressed my lips into a hard line.
Because of you, I trust no one.
Henrik is the right counterparty for a transaction, nothing more. We both keep faith with the bargain, and so even a sham marriage looks convincing enough in front of others. That's its virtue.
But I couldn't say any of that.
Feigning regret, Antoni meant to turn my heart inside out and rake it raw, probing however he could, and then—just as he always had—coax me and mold me to his will.
I will never fall for it.
I parted my lips, very slowly.
"Is that all you came here to say?"
The voice that reached my own ears sounded strange, as if it belonged to someone else. Antoni tilted his head slightly—like a man who had just understood something, his face brightening. Infuriatingly.
"Leti, surely even now, this is all for Francia. Hmm? The you I know has never carried a speck of malice in her."
My stomach churned, boiling hot.
He had always praised me as his good, obedient, virtuous wife.
And you dare call that love, you damned bastard.
If only rage were all that welled up—but every wound I carried was tearing through me instead.
I would rather be reviled as a wicked woman who sells your country than be demeaned with your paltry little endearments.
At last I lifted my head and met that face.
A man with eyes the very same shade as Selena's.
"When did you first meet Selena?"
The question burst out of me—I could not hold it back. Antoni brushed his jaw lightly and answered as if it were nothing.
"Leti. The day I came of age—at that banquet. Don't you remember? That's when we first saw each other."
And in that moment, I understood the truth.