IDTBLT 10

Chapter 10

“Are you alright? What kind of dream did you have…?”

“Ah.”

Claudel, who had been blinking blankly, gave an awkward smile.

“Yes, I’m fine.”

At the same time, a sharp wave of relief spread through her entire body.

‘It’s okay, Reinhardt hasn’t even been hurt yet.’

Valdemar’s duchy had not yet burned down.
Grit, who had falsely accused Valdemar of treason, had already been successfully cut off.

So…

‘Right, Grit.’

In that moment, Claudel felt as though cold water had been poured over her head.

“Um, Your Grace, how will Grit be dealt with?”

“……”

At that question, Reinhardt’s amethyst-like eyes darkened.

Claudel felt a little confused.

‘Did I say something wrong?’

At the same time, Reinhardt sighed before answering.

“Are you worrying about things like that already?”

“…Your Grace.”

“For now, just focus on resting. You’ve already overexerted yourself enough.”

Claudel felt an unexpected lump in her throat.
She wanted nothing more than to lean on his kindness right then.

But—

‘I can’t.’

She had already lost something precious once before.
She could not waste this second chance by becoming complacent.

“Thank you for your concern, but…”

Claudel straightened her back and looked Reinhardt squarely in the eyes.

“I still don’t want to be the duchess who holds Valdemar back.”

“……”

Reinhardt couldn’t hide the complicated expression on his face.

An assassination attempt, the wedding that followed, and even their first night together…
It had been far too exhausting for a fragile woman to endure.

He wanted to tell her not to worry about such troublesome matters.

But—

‘Why does she look so desperate?’

Claudel’s gaze as she looked at him was far too earnest.

“The maid has been imprisoned in the underground dungeon for now,”

Reinhardt finally spoke, unable to resist her gaze.

“She kept repeating that she was innocent. She claimed Claudel was trying to commit suicide and that she tried to stop you.”

Claudel silently nodded.

Well, she had expected as much.

After all, the only thread Grit could possibly cling to now was Viscount Dotrisch.
She would naturally try to put as much blame as possible on Claudel.

But then—

After a brief hesitation, Reinhardt called out to her.

“Claudel. Perhaps…”

“Yes?”

“…No, never mind.”

‘She wouldn’t actually try to commit suicide, would she?’

It was an excessive thought.

Reinhardt forced down his doubtful feelings and quickly changed the subject.

“Do you have any preference regarding Grit’s punishment?”

“Preference?”

“Yes. Of course, attacking the Duchess is a serious crime, so she can’t escape punishment. But…”

He finished his words calmly.

“I can try to make sure the conflict with Viscount Dotrisch doesn’t grow too large.”

‘He’s thinking of me.’

Claudel felt her chest tighten for a moment.

“What is the standard punishment for someone like Grit?”

“Execution.”

Reinhardt answered and immediately observed Claudel’s reaction.

He assumed such a severe punishment might sound frightening to a noblewoman.

But Claudel only replied without hesitation:

“Then please do that.”

For a moment, Reinhardt’s eyes flickered in surprise.

He wondered if she was only saying that to appease him, but…

Claudel’s face remained calm.

“I am now a member of Valdemar. Of course, I should follow Valdemar’s principles.”

“…Are you sincere?”

“Yes. Whether Grit acted on her own to attack me or was ordered by my father…”

At that moment, Reinhardt felt slightly dazed.

Claudel was speaking such a horrifying possibility—that her father may have tried to have her killed—

Yet her expression was completely indifferent.

“Either way, Viscount Dotrisch must be held accountable for it.”

“Claudel.”

“If it’s the first case, it’s the responsibility for failing to properly manage and supervise the maid. If it’s the second case…”

Claudel continued calmly,

“He must pay the price for daring to harm the Duchess of Valdemar.”

“Then you…” Reinhardt asked impulsively,

“Which reason would you prefer to use as the basis for demanding retribution?”

“Personally, I think the first one would be better.”

Claudel answered smoothly, as if she had prepared it beforehand.

“Of course, the second reason isn’t bad either. It would deal a heavy blow to the Dotrisch family.”

Her father—the cold man who raised his only daughter simply as a flower to suit the king’s taste,
and sold her off for his own advancement.

In the past, before she had returned, Claudel might have felt something for him.
But now, she had not a single shred of affection left.

However—

“I just don’t think it’s necessary to raise the king’s suspicions this early.”

“…Suspicion?”

Reinhardt repeated her words slowly.

“If the Dotrisch family really ordered the maid to attack the Duchess, and Valdemar confirms it…”

Claudel trailed off for a moment, then finished coldly,

“Dotrisch will take a blow so devastating it won’t recover. They would have to pay enormous reparations and might even face annihilation.”

There was no affection at all for her family in her calm voice.
Rather—

“And if that happens, His Majesty will likely begin to doubt Valdemar’s true intentions.”

A strange sense of blind loyalty, directed only toward Valdemar’s safety, could be felt.

“They might suspect that Valdemar crushed the Dotrisch family as part of a plan to openly rebel against the king.”

Hermann already saw the House of Valdemar as a thorn in his side and constantly looked for a chance to crush them.

Even though opposing the North’s leader would place a heavy burden on the royal family,
he had ultimately accused Valdemar of treason—that fact proved it.

In such a situation, rather than provoking unnecessary trouble so early…

“The Dotrisch family is too insignificant to risk drawing the king’s suspicion. If you think about it, it’s simply not a worthwhile trade.”

“Not worthwhile?”

“Yes. If Valdemar is going to accept the risk of opposing His Majesty,
then they must ensure they gain a reward worthy of that risk.”

Claudel finished firmly.

Reinhardt stared at her with surprised eyes.

‘She’s… incredibly shrewd.’

It was as if she had lived for years as the mistress of a noble family, with such an excellent sense of politics.

But Reinhardt felt a pang of sorrow seeing her so adept.

‘If she hadn’t developed this instinct, Claudel probably wouldn’t have survived at all.’

Hermann.
And her two former husbands.
This political sharpness felt like scars left by those people.

He could clearly see how she had desperately struggled just to survive…

“I-I’m not saying this to try and save my birth family.”

Claudel, realizing belatedly how it might sound, hurriedly added,

“I just don’t want Valdemar to overextend itself…”

“I know.”

Reinhardt nodded obediently.

If Claudel had really wanted to protect her family,
she wouldn’t have even suggested holding the Dotrisch family accountable in the first place.

But still—

‘Right now, Claudel is only thinking about Valdemar’s position.’

If it seemed like she was desperately trying not to be abandoned by Valdemar…

‘…Am I just being oversensitive?’

“The maid’s matter will be handled as you wish.”

Reinhardt pulled the blanket up over Claudel’s shoulders and gently patted her chest.

“For now, get some more sleep.”

“…”

“It’s still early morning.”

Claudel, staring quietly at him, soon closed her eyes obediently.

Perhaps because Reinhardt was by her side,
Hermann did not dare approach her in her dreams this time.

It was a peaceful sleep.

Reinhardt silently looked down at the deeply sleeping Claudel.

‘Save me…’

She had begged again and again for her life
to the man who had claimed to love her,
the man who had left that terrible scar on her body.

What must she have been thinking at that time?

How much pain and suffering must be buried beneath that calm face?

And how much strength must it have taken
to suppress all that anguish and appear so composed?

Reinhardt couldn’t even begin to imagine.

“…”

A few strands of her silver hair were stuck to Claudel’s cheek.

After hesitating for a moment,
he carefully brushed the hair away from her face.

Even in her sleep, Claudel smiled faintly at his touch.

…That fragile smile made Reinhardt’s chest ache somehow.