IDLYA 8

chapter 8

The affection Nivea held for Valère, how she had lived in Solen—if he had even known a little of it, he could never have said such things.

He knew nothing. No, from the beginning, he had never cared.
That was why Nivea felt even more lonely. That was why she wanted Valère’s love even more.
What was the result of that?

“Even I won’t foolishly keep loving someone after knowing that, despite ten years of devotion, I am nothing more than a speck to them.”

It wasn’t about ten years. Whether it was ten years, twenty years, no matter how devoted Nivea was, Valère would not have changed.
No one bothers with a stone they kick on the road.

“I loved you while putting my pride aside, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to throw away my self-respect.”

“……Miss Nivea.”
“Yes, Duke Eustache.”

Instead of the name he always used, a formal title came from Nivea’s lips.
The unfamiliarity of the voice made Valère flinch without realizing it.

Leaving a flustered Valère, Nivea just stared at him quietly.
Her amethyst-like eyes, once full of affection and sparkle, were now extremely cold.

“There must be a reason you called me. Do you have more to say?”
“…….”

Seeing Valère unable to speak, Nivea turned on her heel.
“Go back and check the accounting books.”

Back in the annex, Nivea collapsed onto the bed.
If she had been an ordinary noblewoman, a nanny would have scolded her: “You must change your clothes before lying down, Miss!” But she had never had such a nanny.
Even now, there were only one or two maids in the annex.
It wasn’t as if the Marquis of Solen had explicitly forbidden her from having a maid; it was clear from how poorly the steward and head maid treated Nivea.
‘It makes sense. After all, she’s a daughter who was left alone all this time.’
They probably wouldn’t treat a guest like this.

Nivea thought about calling a maid to argue about this poor treatment but gave up.
She felt too tired today. After dealing with both the Marquis of Solen and Valère, she felt drained.
The small number of maids in the quiet annex made it feel comfortable rather than lonely.
She had always been alone, so the barren silence felt cozier than a crowd.
It felt as if she were the only person left in the world.
Surprisingly, that didn’t feel lonely.

Blinking in the silence, Nivea closed her eyes as a wave of fatigue washed over her.

The tasks Nivea had to perform as the acting Duchess were not limited to the duchy or the household.
Sometimes, when necessary, she had to travel abroad in place of the Emperor to attend international conferences.
Of course, thanks to Emperor Bertrand XV of Tierry, who was displeased that Nivea was only a fifteen-year-old acting duchess, there were almost no conferences she actually had to attend.
Except for one, a meeting held in the Principality of Silas.

‘This dress is heavy.’

Nivea absentmindedly brushed the edge of her dress, which was heavily adorned with jewels.
She had always worn modest dresses far past fashion, so a heavily decorated dress felt awkward and cumbersome.

She was now attending the banquet of the international conference in the Principality of Silas.
She recalled again Bertrand XV’s words when he had given her this expensive dress:

“All you have to do is just be there. After all, the affairs of Silas have nothing to do with us in Tierry. Just remain neutral.”

In a tone as if giving an errand to a child, Bertrand had repeated himself many times.
Just stay at your seat. Remain neutral. Speak little. Just be still.

It was obvious at first glance that Nivea was only attending because she had no choice.
The foreign minister, who normally attended international conferences in place of the Emperor, had been unable to attend due to an unexpected accident, so the duty had fallen to Nivea.

Even though Bertrand’s attitude was openly unreliable, Nivea followed gladly.
By doing what Valère should have done, she could at least lessen his burden.
Besides, the dress Bertrand had given her to wear was beautiful.
‘When Valère returns, I’ll wear this.’

As she brushed the hem, the jewels clinked pleasantly.
The dress, puffed with lace and veils and adorned with sparkling gems, was cumbersome but beautiful.
This was an extravagant luxury Nivea could never dream of, so she intended to save it for when Valère returned.

‘It’s a banquet, but after greeting people once, there’s really nothing else to do.’

As Bertrand XV said, she had nothing to do.
Being the only woman in a room full of men, no one sought her advice.
Although the Tierry Empire’s representatives greeted her politely, they openly ignored her.
It would have been upsetting if it were unusual, but for Nivea, it was a daily occurrence.
Wherever she went, people ignored her.

‘Maybe I’ll just go outside.’

Thinking of Valère out of habit, she slowly walked into the garden.
It was already fully night, so dark that without the lanterns scattered around, she could not see a step ahead.
She planned to spend some quiet time there, then return to the party near the end of the banquet, exchange formal greetings, and head to her room.

“Marriage? Soon, I suppose.”

Had she not heard the voice nearby, she would have done so.
Nivea stopped in her tracks.
Beyond the garden, two men were talking.
One with silver hair, the other slightly shorter with red hair.

The shorter one muttered:
“Don’t just talk about it—bring the bride. How many engagements have you rejected now?”
“But weren’t they all proposals put forward by my mother?”
“Even so, they were the best proposals for His Majesty. Even if the Empress Mother proposed them, once married, you could bring them over to His Majesty’s side. If they had any sense, they’d approach His Majesty rather than the Empress Mother.”

The silver-haired man’s words made the other silent for a moment.
“……Then just treat her harshly so she cannot love.”
“Rüdiger. I don’t like being harsh. If I am not kind even to the woman who comes to this desolate imperial city for me, who else will care for her? I wish to have a good relationship with her, excluding love.”

“Fine. Have a good relationship, make friends with fairies, and call unicorns to dance.”

Nivea, eavesdropping quietly, chuckled softly at that.
Though the garden was quiet enough to be caught, the silver-haired man also laughed, so she was not discovered.

“Is what I want really so unrealistic?”
“Everyone tends to fall for someone kind, especially a handsome husband.”
“Do you think I’m handsome?”
“A kind husband is desirable to anyone.”
“Honest but blunt. Anyway, somewhere there must be such a person.”
“Well, I doubt there is one in Vinfrit.”
“Is that so?”

The silver-haired man paused briefly before speaking again.
“I’m tired of love.”
“……Still, you must marry.”
“I will. Soon.”

What would he say if he saw me?
After hearing all their conversation, Nivea wondered.
What would he say if he saw her loving someone unkind?
Would he call her crazy? Criticize her for not understanding, like Valère did? Treat her foolishly?

Not only Valère but everyone treated her like a fool.
They did not understand her obsession with her fiancé and called her foolish.

Looking at them, Nivea asked herself:

Is it wrong to try to be loved by your fiancé?
I have never received even a fraction of the love others take for granted.
Is it wrong to want to be loved, even by someone who will become my new family?

‘……That man would probably think I’m strange too.’

Nivea turned without regret.
No matter what others said, it didn’t matter. Only Valère needed to see her.
Because she was making an effort, when he returned from the battlefield, he would at least show some gratitude.
And he would recognize her as his fiancée, the future mistress of the ducal house.

‘That’s enough.’

Nivea moved to another quiet spot.
She later remembered, on the carriage back to Tierry, that a year ago, the fiancée of Joachim XII of Vinfrit had committed suicide.

A month later, Valère returned from the battlefield.
She could not wear the dress she had longed for, as living expenses had not been given in Solen that month.
Fifteen days later, Emperor Joachim XII of Vinfrit visited Tierry.
Just one month and fifteen days—about fifty days.
That was how long it took Nivea to think the same as Joachim XII.