Chapter 5
As everyone struggled to process whether those vulgar, dignity-discarding words had truly come from the Emperor’s mouth, Reinhardt swept his gaze across the room with a cold sneer.
When his eyes landed on Duke Wilhelmar, who showed not the slightest sign of remorse no matter how one looked at him, the Emperor’s expression grew even harsher.
“Is this the best solution the heads of illustrious houses can come up with? A mere compensation marriage?”
He let out a short, mocking laugh and continued.
“And not a single apology to the actual victim. You don’t even seem capable of distinguishing between perpetrator and victim. Very well. I will organize this properly myself. Sir Lambert, record everything carefully.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Casting only a brief glance at the chamberlain as he bowed, Reinhardt went on.
“Arthur Lowell deceived Mariel Cleve and committed an act tantamount to unilaterally breaking an engagement. He should, by all rights, provide appropriate compensation. However, since the party in question is already deceased, the responsibility will fall upon his family.”
“The House of Lowell shall compensate her with a sum equal to ten times the agreed dowry.”
Count Lowell trembled violently as he bowed his head to the floor.
“Furthermore, the House of Duke Wilhelmar—since Friede Wilhelmar provided significant cause for the dissolution of the engagement—shall compensate the House of Cleve with a sum equal to five times the dowry.”
The Emperor fixed Duke Wilhelmar with an icy stare.
“And from this day forward, no member of the Wilhelmar family nor the Lowell family shall ever demand marriage from Mariel Cleve.”
“Having witnessed your cunning attempt to bury this matter under a so-called compensation marriage without so much as an apology, I hereby forbid you from approaching her or the House of Cleve without my explicit permission.”
Faced with punishments so severe they felt suffocating, Duke Wilhelmar and Count Lowell went deathly pale and clamped their mouths shut.
The ones truly stunned, however, were Count Cleve and Philip as well.
They had hoped for heavy punishment, yes—but considering the opponents were prestigious meritorious houses, they had not dared expect much. They would have been satisfied if even a fraction of the injustice could be eased.
Yet the Emperor’s actions were far more radical than they had imagined.
“Duke Wilhelmar,” Reinhardt continued coolly, “your daughter Friede has deeply disappointed both the Imperial Family and myself. As for compensation for that offense—”
“I will give you my answer after further consideration.”
“Until then, both you and your daughter shall remain confined to your residence. I hereby place you under house arrest.”
“Do not worry, Duke. About a year should be enough for me to reach a conclusion.”
“After all, wherever you go for the time being, humiliation would be unavoidable, would it not?”
Duke Wilhelmar’s eyes flared wide.
More than the fivefold compensation, the one year of house arrest was the true problem. It would deal a fatal blow to his political career—something he could not possibly accept.
Unable to endure it, the Duke shouted,
“Your Majesty! It is true that I failed to properly educate my daughter, but if I am confined for an entire year, who will carry out the critical affairs of the Empire that I currently oversee?!”
“That is not something you need to worry about.”
Standing at a slanted angle, Reinhardt lifted his chin and looked down at the Duke with supreme arrogance.
“Temporary replacements for each department can easily be found for a year or so. You need not concern yourself with such trivial labor. From this very day, simply carry out the order I have given.”
With that, he turned away, making it clear that no rebuttal would be tolerated.
“And Count Lowell,” he added coldly, “your face is unpleasant to look at as well. Until I grant permission, refrain from entering the Imperial Palace—especially the Cleve estate.”
“…I will obey your command, Your Majesty.”
Count Lowell lowered his head and accepted the decree without protest.
Thanks to the unimaginable actions of their children, two noble houses had effectively been struck by a bolt from the blue.
Throughout it all, Mariel, who had remained silent, looked straight at Reinhardt as if she had made up her mind.
“Your Majesty. I, too, have a request.”
It was improper for a noblewoman to step forward before receiving the Emperor’s permission. As the flustered chamberlain attempted to stop her, Reinhardt raised a hand to silence him.
“Speak.”
“I understand that Arthur’s body was recovered and brought back.”
The Emperor said nothing, simply gazing at Mariel.
“But unless I confirm it with my own eyes, I don’t think I can accept that he is truly dead.”
“Please allow me to see his body.”
“No. Mariel. Arthur is not in a state you should see.”
“No, Father.”
“I know that when a body is damaged by fire, it can be impossible to identify unless there is something distinctive.”
“That is precisely why I must confirm it.”
Ignoring the hand trying to stop her, Mariel pleaded again.
“Arthur has a distinctive piece of cartilage protruding from his left elbow. It was an injury from falling off a horse late last year.”
“He showed it only to me. I just want to see that.”
“I cannot permit it.”
“Your Majesty!”
At her desperate cry, Reinhardt lowered his gaze to her.
Explaining the reason once more made something churn painfully in his chest.
Damn them all.
Perhaps it was spite. Twisted spite toward this woman who, even after everything, still wanted to believe in her fiancé.
Looking at Mariel, Reinhardt finally spoke.
“The bodies of Arthur Lowell and Friede Wilhelmar are currently entangled together, having burned while clinging to one another. They are in the process of being separated for burial.”
“For that reason, I will never permit you to view the body directly.”
“…!”
Mariel’s face drained of all color. It felt as though the blood had been completely sucked from her body, spilling onto the floor. The world seemed to sway—no, she swayed violently.
The shapes of people and objects in her vision began to spin rapidly.
Born with a strong constitution, Mariel had never once fainted in her life.
Yet in that moment, she knew instinctively—this would be her first time.
Ah… so this is how it happens.
Thud—!
With that thought, Mariel lost consciousness.
When she opened her eyes again, the first thing she saw was sunlight filtering through the curtains beside the bed.
Am I finally dead?
Staring at the softly billowing fabric, she felt oddly dazed.
Ugh.
“…Ugh.”
Her head throbbed as if it were splitting apart, heavy and nauseous, which convinced her she was, unfortunately, still alive.
Why am I here…?
Her senses were dull, her thoughts sluggish.
“Are you feeling a bit better, miss?”
At the voice calling her, Mariel turned her head to see a woman around her age looking at her with concern.
“Who… are you?”
“Oh! You’re awake. You were unconscious for quite a while.”
Another woman approached, her voice filled with worry. Judging by their attire, they seemed to be maids responsible for this place.
Come to think of it…
She remembered feeling dizzy and collapsing in front of the Emperor.
“…I think I fainted yesterday.”
At Mariel’s words, the woman waved her hands, correcting her gently.
“No, not yesterday—the day before. You collapsed the night before last and hit your head quite badly. Even after the palace physicians treated you, your condition was poor until you were brought here.”
As she spoke, she carefully examined Mariel’s forehead.
“Ow!”
Just a light touch made her cry out.
“Oh my, I’m sorry. The stitched area is still swollen, so it must hurt a lot. I’ll bring you some tea to ease the pain.”
The day before yesterday? Three whole days? Stitches?
Still blinking in confusion, Mariel finally looked around the room.
This time, a dull pain bloomed at the back of her head, and a groan escaped her.
“Please be careful. There’s a large bump on the back of your head as well.”
Someone hurriedly warned her.
You could’ve told me that sooner…
Suppressing her complaint, she slowly scanned her surroundings.
It was a white room. Sunlight poured in through a large window, illuminating soft carpets and delicate decorations.
Around the bed were vases filled with fresh flowers, filling the room with a gentle fragrance.
It was dazzling and beautiful—far more luxurious than anything she had ever seen. But it was not her room.
“Um… where am I?”
“This is a guest room in the Western Palace. It’s where noble ladies invited to the Imperial Palace stay.”
I see…
As Mariel slowly took it all in, another question surfaced in her mind.
“Then… why am I here?”
“Pardon?”
The maids froze, mouths slightly agape. They exchanged glances, silently communicating.
“Well, you see…”
As one maid tried to explain, the other nudged her side with an elbow.
“What?”
“The physician said she might be disoriented for a while. Maybe that’s it.”
“Oh…”
After whispering to each other, they looked back at Mariel with pity in their eyes.
What on earth happened?
Just as confusion overtook her—
The door opened, and a tall, middle-aged woman stepped into the room.
