Chapter – 01
Psyche recalled the day, four years ago, when she had entered the house of Duke Demioss of the Empire.
It was March, when the cherry blossoms were in bloom.
Some said her marriage was a transactional one, meant to repay the kingdom’s debts.
Others said that joining a duke’s house instead of an elderly noble’s second marriage was a stroke of luck.
Her previous engagement had already been broken once.
It had been unavoidable.
The family of Warren Demioss, the prince of the Empire who had been engaged to her in exchange for repaying the kingdom’s debt, had been completely overturned by a man only a few months ago.
Moreover, the house she was to marry into again was the only ducal house of the Empire, Demioss.
She was leaving the kingdom not to marry Warren Demioss, but to marry the mad murderer who had destroyed the Demioss family.
That murderer was a man she had known for a long time.
It was already dishonorable enough that the kingdom had married off a princess to settle debts, and now her marriage had been broken once.
And now she was to marry another member of the same family?
The people of the kingdom, and the continent as a whole, clicked their tongues at the news of her marriage.
Would this marriage, as gossipers said, be misfortune?
Or would it be fortune?
As she adjusted her uncomfortable wedding dress in the carriage, Psyche Doson thought to herself: no matter whether it was fortune or misfortune, she was glad she was not afraid to go to him.
She recalled the boy she had known when she first arrived in Doson Kingdom years ago—someone who had once offered to be a playmate to her older brothers.
Jet-black hair, and beneath it, sapphire-like blue eyes.
The blue of his eyes reflected the greenery of the royal gardens of Doson.
People said he was a monster who had executed his foster father and crippled his sworn brother.
They pitied Psyche, saying she was going to marry him as if she were being taken away.
But strangely, Psyche was not scared at all to leave for the marriage.
If anything, she felt a flutter of excitement.
Even though she was being married off like merchandise, it was different from marrying someone she knew nothing about.
If she had to marry someone, she wanted it to be him.
Perhaps, she thought naïvely, this could even be the beginning of love.
Several days later, Psyche and her attendants finally arrived at the duke’s mansion.
The Doson Kingdom had sent little besides a few attendants and knights, some jewels, travel expenses, and the beautiful princess, dressed like a gift in the carriage.
By the request of Duke Demioss, no wedding ceremony took place.
Her brothers, wary of displeasing the duke, had Psyche wear her wedding dress throughout the journey instead of holding a ceremony.
The pure white dress became one of the most cumbersome items during the days of travel.
After wearing it so long, Psyche felt slightly dizzy when she stepped out of the carriage.
The mansion’s staff came to greet the princess.
The duke himself was nowhere to be seen.
Psyche assumed he was busy.
Still, she hoped he would at least appear at dinner.
Yet when dinnertime came, the master of the house still did not appear.
Exhausted from the journey, she went to the table, but was told that the master was still in his study.
“The mansion… is so quiet.”
“The duke is sensitive, Your Highness,” came the reply.
Despite having dozens of staff, the grand mansion felt chillingly empty. The only sound breaking the silence was the clatter of her cutlery.
Her royal family had instructed her not to remove her wedding dress until the duke performed the bridal rite.
Thus, even during a dinner with the master absent, Psyche could not change.
The oppressive dress, the corset tightening her waist, made it difficult to eat.
When she had first rushed here for the marriage, just thinking she would see him had excited her a little.
Now, seated at a strange table, nibbling on bread, she reflected on her situation.
A woman in a wedding dress, alone, in a mansion where the master did not welcome her.
Looking at her crumpled dress, she felt as if she had become an actress in a play.
After dinner, Psyche untied her hair, braided into a crown-like style, and entered her bedroom.
She waited for him to come, until the sun went down.
But no matter how long she waited, the duke did not appear.
Relying on the faint candlelight, she sat by the window, gazing out endlessly.
The dark forest near the ridge swayed in the wind.
By the time it was past midnight, she finally realized that the master of the house had no interest in her.
“Ikari… I need to talk to you for a moment.”
Psyche blocked the path in front of her husband, her face darkened.
Before her stood her childhood acquaintance, her first love, and now her husband—the man who had killed her father and seized power.
His face retained some traces of the boy she had known, yet the gloomy aura in his sapphire eyes made her unable to speak.
He narrowed his eyebrows slightly at her sudden obstruction. Displeasure was evident in his expression.
Every time she looked at him, Psyche felt herself shrinking.
It was as if she were meeting a stranger rather than someone she had known well.
She clenched her fists, summoning courage.
‘I want to ask him to go for a walk together.’
One month into their marriage.
Having not had a proper conversation with her husband in that month, she saw the peach blossoms blooming by her bedroom window and resolved to speak to him today.
Peach blossoms were common in Doson Kingdom, as they were the national flower.
Her older brothers and Ikari had once picked the vibrant pink flowers together.
Seeing the blossoms might remind him of their childhood.
Walking under the blooming trees could allow them to talk about old memories naturally.
She nervously held her shirt sleeve.
Even if people scorned their marriage as dishonorable, Psyche wanted to make her married life with her first love work.
He looked down at the woman who had become his wife a month ago.
“Do you need something?”
His blue eyes showed no emotion, as if she were a stranger.
Seeing him so different from the boy she remembered, Psyche cautiously parted her lips.
“No, it’s not that…”
“Then.”
She tucked her hair behind her ear, hesitated, cheeks flushed.
“The flowers are in bloom right now. Soon the rain will make them fall, so I thought it would be nice to go for a walk. I worry about you working every day. Also…”
The word “husband” made her both shy and flutter with nervous excitement. She swallowed the rest of her words, smiling awkwardly.
When she smiled, her pale cheeks grew rosy.
Ikari silently gazed at her youthful face.
He slowly raised his hand and removed hers from his shirt sleeve.
“Take a maid with you.”
“But…”
As Psyche reached out again, his cyan eyes twisted in discomfort.
“You don’t need to ask me for that. From now on, go on your own.”
Before she could say another word, he called a butler to choose a maid to accompany her outdoors.
Then he immediately returned to his study, as if finishing a task.
Though all the continent called her husband a monster, Psyche believed he was kind.
She had known him personally.
Even in their childhood, when he had been a playmate to her brothers at the palace, Ikari Demioss had never once thrown a tantrum.
As a prince of the Empire, he had always been poised, and his clear eyes held no selfish desire.
Recalling that boy, Psyche believed one day her husband’s heart would open.
So she patiently waited.
Waiting outside his study, always on edge to walk with him.
Even just standing far away, looking at him, was satisfying enough.
If she continued to wait, he would eventually see her.
He was a kind person, after all.
Half a year passed.
Half a year since she became the duchess.
Half a year of knocking on his heart.
Then her husband left for the battlefield, leaving her alone.
“Ugh… aaah…”
The clanging of metal dragged her from dream to reality. Opening her eyes, she found herself on the cold stone floor of the royal prison.
She let out a weak groan, leaning her head against the cold stone. She must have fainted and was just regaining consciousness.
Ever since being imprisoned, she had repeatedly lost and regained consciousness.
It must have been late, for pale moonlight streamed through the small window above her head. The window, no larger than her palms, had thick bars.
Her left hand was chained to a cuff on the ceiling.
Because the chain was so short, she had to hold her arms up to rest while sitting.
Her arm cramped after holding it up during the fainting spell.
Pain slowly crept along her forearm.
“Painful…”
She coughed and tried to steady herself, muttering.
For the past four years, she had fought to maintain her position as the mistress of the ducal house while her husband was away at war.
She wrote letters to him every day, tried to participate in the family’s affairs despite the disdain of his retainers.
She held on, thinking that when the war ended and her husband returned, he would acknowledge her efforts and embrace her.
She had endured on that hope for four years.
Yet, contrary to her expectations, what came to her was not the warmth of her husband’s love.
It was the emperor’s decree to execute the Demioss family for treason.
