Chapter 68
“Hearing Your Majesty say that truly puts my mind at ease.”
By then, the queen had regained her composure and nodded slowly.
“Then, I shall go see Bridget now. It’s time for her to take her medicine…”
“Medicine? Is Bridget unwell?”
The king furrowed his brows.
Now that he thought about it, ever since receiving that troublesome report from Jeon, he had been so busy with state affairs that he hadn’t seen his daughter even once.
At the same time, he recalled that Bridget had been present when he received that report.
〈Who said that foreign knights joined the subjugation because of Princess Bridget?〉
〈They didn’t join for Princess Bridget. They were there… for Commander Anette.〉
The memory of that humiliating, infuriating day flashed through his mind, and the king scowled.
Mistaking his reaction for concern about Bridget, the queen continued.
“She hasn’t been herself lately. Hardly any appetite either—she’s even skipping meals. So I hurriedly prepared some restorative medicine…”
“If she could eat well and regain her energy after that disgrace, that would be the real problem.”
“…Pardon?”
The queen froze and asked again.
“Your Majesty… what did you just say…?”
“Enough. The child is sick, so go to her. Though I doubt a tonic will cure what she’s suffering from.”
His voice was icy cold. The queen could hardly believe her ears, and then her face fell with shock.
“…I’ll go then, Your Majesty.”
She barely managed to bow, hiding her expression as she turned toward the door—her face now terrifying to behold.
The attendant, who had been about to open the door, hiccuped in fright and faltered, but the queen didn’t slow her steps.
She had already heard from Bridget what happened when Jeon made his report to the king.
That day, after issuing orders to verify the report’s contents, the king had learned Bridget had repeated lies told by certain royal guards. Enraged, he had commanded those knights to be tracked down, punished, and expelled from the order.
So the queen had never imagined the king would treat Bridget so coldly.
Was this not the same daughter he had once adored so dearly?
The same child whose conception had brought him such joy that he ignored his retainers’ protests and raised her mother to queen?
Bridget bore no fault in any of this. She had merely believed the knights’ words, in her innocence.
Couldn’t he at least show her some pity…?
By the time the queen emerged into the corridor, she was gritting her teeth as she glanced back.
And come to think of it, today he hadn’t even asked after their youngest, their precious son Raon—once the very apple of his eye.
Could it be that now… he’s starting to think that wretched Anette was the real treasure?
For nearly ten years, Heyworth’s finances had improved bit by bit—and then, five years ago, the kingdom’s strength had surged dramatically.
And only now did she realize that this had all begun after Anette became commander.
Yet the courtiers had always claimed that everything started going well for the kingdom after Raon was born—that he was a prince who brought blessings.
If one considered that Raon was now twelve, the timing clearly didn’t match, yet the king had delighted in the flattery, calling the boy a “lucky star.”
And now, just like that, his attitude had changed completely. It was laughable—and infuriating.
“Haa…”
Queen Esther pressed a hand to her brow with a deep sigh.
The king acted as if all would be solved by requesting help from the House of Harzent immediately—but really, could he think of nothing beyond the immediate crisis?
Would he truly wish to leave a kingdom like this to the son who will one day succeed him?
That thought gave her pause.
Because now that she considered it, this wasn’t just a distant worry—this was an urgent threat hanging over her own head.
If Heyworth became too dependent on the Harzent ducal house, it would be a disaster.
All the power would end up in Franz’s hands—since he would be the duke’s brother-in-law.
If I had known this, I would have done whatever it took to send Bridget in her place!
They had been complacent, thinking the Alcan Empire would surely return Anette. That assumption had brought ruin.
The penalty fee being a hundred times the dowry was no longer even the real issue.
The queen’s eyes blazed as countless schemes stormed through her mind.
If Bridget plays her cards right… perhaps the ducal house would even pay the penalty themselves.
With that thought, the queen quickened her steps toward the princess’s palace.
At that moment…
Unaware of the council’s latest decision, the royal knights were sunk in gloom.
For the past two weeks, they had reeled in despair at the realization that Anette was truly gone. When the king summoned them after receiving Jeon’s report, they had dared to hope—perhaps everything could be undone.
But even after it became undeniable that all their achievements had come solely through Anette’s ability, the king still hadn’t sent a messenger to the Alcan Empire. That inaction left them anxious.
And now? After endless councils, they were growing resigned.
They say the engagement is already notarized, and the dowry’s been received…
If they meant to bring her back, or send Princess Bridget instead, they’d have acted long ago.
Looks like this alliance marriage with Alcan isn’t something they can break easily after all…
At first, they’d thought it simple—just annul the betrothal, or send Bridget since it was a political match anyway.
But as time dragged on, even they—political ignoramuses—realized how grave the matter was, how helpless even the highest lords seemed to be.
Ironically, they felt the truth most keenly when they saw how the knights themselves were treated.
They had feared that returning from subjugations without Anette would bring harsh scolding or mockery.
Instead? Their rations, armor, and weapons were upgraded immediately. Starting next month, their building and training grounds would even undergo renovations.
It almost felt like someone was saying: You’ll have to handle beast hunts without Anette now, so hang in there.
Even the royal guards, who once picked fights and lorded over them, now avoided trouble. If they spotted a royal knight, they steered clear.
Once, those guards would have jeered: Your cursed commander’s becoming a duchess—why not tag along? But now, terrified the knights might quit, they dared not utter a word.
These were all noble-born men—they must know the truth by now.
Who had really defended this kingdom all these years?
Where their salaries truly came from?
Yet for all that belated recognition, none of it felt good.
The future loomed dark.
And worse still—the one who should have been the pillar of the order in Anette’s stead was in a wretched state.
“Sir Braman, the vice-commander… I mean, commander—has he skipped training again today?”
Mikel’s question to Braman, who was overseeing drills, made the weary knights freeze.
They all wanted to snap: Who are you calling commander? But no one spoke.
Whatever they thought, the commander now was Jeon.
To keep calling him vice-commander was an insult—and worse, with the order under scrutiny, any lapse in discipline might reflect poorly on Jeon.
Braman hesitated, unable to answer. Mikel pressed on.
“Are we just going to leave him like this?”
“What, you think we should drag him out here by force?”
“It’s not just the training. I haven’t seen him eat or sleep in two weeks.”
“…What?”
“He hasn’t gone home—just sits in the vice-commander’s office all the time.”
Braman’s eyes widened.
“But… he didn’t look like…”
“He’s just pretending to be fine. We can’t leave him like this…”
Only now did Braman grasp how serious it was.
All the knights had struggled with Anette’s departure—drinking, brawling, brooding—but they were slowly coming to terms with it.
Jeon, though… Jeon, who had stayed so quiet, was falling apart.
Honestly, no one—not him of all people—had imagined he would suffer this much.
“All right, everyone—keep training. I’ll… go check on the commander.”
“Yes, Vice-Commander.”
Braman had succeeded Jeon as vice-commander. He had hoped for promotion someday—but never like this.
Suppressing a bitter sigh, Braman strode toward the knights’ quarters.
His chest felt tight. What could he possibly say to Jeon?
“…?”
A tall man with navy hair stood in front of the building.
Inside a darkened office, curtains still drawn.
Jeon sat slumped in his chair, staring blankly into space.
It was as if time had stopped.
Only after leaving the king and Princess Bridget with words far sharper than his nature did reality crash down on him.
That the person who had stood at his side, unchanging for ten long years, was truly gone.
The commander’s office stood empty now. Though he knew he was its new master, his habit made him knock twice—rap, rap—before slowly opening the door.
He’d thought perhaps a pen or something might remain.
But inside, there wasn’t the slightest trace of Anette.
As though nothing had ever existed there.
Like a mirage.
His breath seized.
Jeon couldn’t even step across the threshold. After a long moment, he turned hurriedly to the adjoining room.
Only upon returning to his own space did his lungs begin to work again.
Everything after that was a blur.
He vaguely recalled Braman telling him the king had summoned every royal knight in turn—that they had all spoken fiercely—that the king was holding endless councils…
But for Jeon, days blurred together in a cycle of waking, washing by habit, sitting here in silence—only to wake again.
His mind refused to accept the truth. But his eyes knew it well.
They were heavy with a slow, consuming despair.
