Chapter 60
The Calm Before the Storm
“We don’t want benevolent, publicity-driven charity.
We want a fair world where everyone can stand on their own.”
A fair world. Anshi stared blankly at the parade.
Having lived both as a noble and a commoner, she could relate. The current empire revolved around its wealthy nobility. Everyone in the empire knew that the new emperor’s policies aligned with that reality. So it was inevitable that the march of the revolutionaries would go on endlessly.
Standing a little apart from the crowd, Anshi slowly walked while observing the march—until she accidentally bumped into someone also watching.
“Pardon me,” Anshi said, bowing her head.
“Oh, Madam! Isn’t it you?”
The voice was familiar. Anshi looked up and saw a man’s face light up in recognition.
“It’s me! Henet de Maron! The one whose name was engraved on the fountain pen. We also had dinner next to each other at the club once, remember…?”
“I remember, Sir Henet. You’re Damion’s friend.”
“Whew, I was afraid you didn’t recognize me.”
Henet, who had been shrinking timidly, let out a relieved chuckle.
“Of course I remember.”
Anshi recalled him well—he seemed to be Damion’s closest friend. However, Henet’s face darkened at her reply.
“Right, it’d be weird if you didn’t. I was incredibly rude.”
Anshi’s eyes widened slightly, then she quickly realized what he meant. He was referring to the incident at Madame Roma’s shop.
“I know it’s late, but I apologize for that. For the rude things I said when I came to return the pen.”
“It’s alright. I married Damion in the end. Even if you’d told me not to, it wouldn’t have changed anything.”
“Haha, that’s true,” Henet laughed sheepishly.
To say something so cutting—that she meant little to Damion—was surprisingly similar to his blunt friend.
From Anshi’s perspective, Damion had married her not for love, but because of the Rubelsa name. So a few harsh words about her didn’t really matter. But Henet had no way of knowing that, and to him, it came across differently.
“In any case, I’m glad you’re doing well. Damion seems to care about you a lot.”
“Does he?”
“You’d be shocked if you knew how different he is with you compared to everyone else. Sometimes he seems like an entirely different person. But I suppose that’s to be expected when two people are in love.”
Henet truly believed that.
Before the marriage, he had been sure Anshi liked Damion more. After the wedding, he was sure it was the other way around. His friend who used to say he’d never start a marriage unless it was a win-win now looked unrecognizable—but Henet took it as a good change.
Damion still didn’t seem to understand that marriage could be a mutual gain, but…
“Were you… watching the revolutionaries too?” Henet asked.
Anshi paused at the question.
“…I was just passing by.”
Her support for the revolutionaries was not something that could come to light yet. That secret had to be revealed in August—when the Emperor would be grazed by a bullet during the hunt.
“And you, Sir Henet?”
It looked like he had been standing where he could see the march clearly. Henet nodded, eyes lingering on the last of the revolutionaries disappearing in the distance.
“They’re everywhere. Hard not to notice.”
His gaze was somewhat meaningful, but before Anshi could think too deeply, he turned back to her with a bright smile.
“Speaking of which—there’s a hunt in Sovelvio coming up! Do you like hunting, Madam?”
“Yes. I’ll be attending this one.”
“Damion must be thrilled. He’s a soldier, after all.”
Henet chuckled proudly, clearly unaware of Damion’s current reaction to gunfire.
“Yes, perhaps.”
It wasn’t her place to reveal what Damion hadn’t told.
“Well then, until next time.”
Henet took his leave first. As she watched him go, Anshi quietly wondered whether there would really be a next time.
Still, her steps felt lighter. Her next destination had nothing to do with the duties she bore for her cause.
* * *
A car stopped in front of the blue-roofed house. Anshi’s face lit up with joy. Hiding her feelings, she turned to Damion.
“You didn’t have to come with me.”
Visiting Sofia with Damion always felt a bit awkward. It was different from being surrounded by the Duke and Duchess or the people of Orphe. Here, it made them feel… truly like a married couple. It unsettled her.
Especially now that things were no longer how they’d seemed—back when she believed Damion had married her out of affection.
“We said we’d do everything together now.”
Damion got out first and opened her door. She accepted his escort and stepped out. He lowered his head and gently kissed her cheek.
Anshi’s eyes went wide in surprise. But Damion, smiling cheerfully, merely gestured toward the house.
“Shall we?”
Since that day in the church, Damion had become even more openly affectionate. He would show up in her room unannounced, gaze at her silently, and pull unexpected gestures like this.
As if—this time—he really did love her.
“Isn’t this all just for himself again?”
Just as he’d once faked his feelings to trap her, maybe this was his way of keeping her from leaving again.
Anshi suspected him at every turn. The doubt that had taken root wouldn’t go away. And honestly, she didn’t need it to.
Because just as she was using Damion, it made perfect sense that Damion would be using her.
“Anshi! Sir Damion!”
Sofia greeted them warmly at the door. Anshi pushed aside her thoughts and smiled.
They stepped into Sofia’s cozy, well-kept house. It was modest, but neat.
Anshi had already arranged for Sofia to move to the south—into a new home secured through Madame Roma. A much better place than the shared housing she’d lived in before. She would be sent there before the hunt.
People like Lady Märchen, with whom Sofia had built connections under her false identity, would be there. And now that Geris was no longer a threat, it would be a safe and suitable place.
“What are you thinking?” Damion asked.
“Nothing,” Anshi replied, shaking her head and heading to the dining room.
The table was overflowing with food—vibrant and plentiful.
“You didn’t have to go all out like this.”
“This isn’t for you. It’s for Sir Damion,” Sofia said playfully. “Come on, sit down.”
“Ladies first. Her Majesty and the princess should dine before me.”
“Her Majesty? Oh, Sir Damion, stop it!”
Sofia burst into laughter at his cheeky joke.
Anshi, who had been frowning, shook her head in disbelief when she saw Sofia laughing like that. It only made Sofia laugh harder.
“What exactly is so funny?”
“The fact that you don’t get it—that’s what’s funny.”
Anshi sighed in resignation and looked at Sofia’s plate.
“You eat first.”
“Ah, as expected, Your Majesty?”
“…”
All throughout the meal, that sort of banter continued. Anshi couldn’t bring herself to join in, but eventually, a small smile escaped her.
Not because the conversation was especially funny—but because Sofia looked so happy.
When was the last time she had felt this lighthearted?
A calm joy enveloped her.
But at the same time, a crushing sadness crept in.
Because she knew—this happiness was likely the last.
She would see Sofia again before the hunt, but not in this kind of relaxed, peaceful setting.
The early dinner stretched long into the evening. They had decided to stay the night at Sofia’s house, so there was no rush, no need to watch the clock.
And then, night fell.
Anshi leaned against the armrest of the parlor sofa, blinking slowly. Maybe it was the comfort of being in such a relaxing space after so long. Or maybe the wine had been stronger than expected.
“If you’re sleepy, go ahead and sleep, Anshi.”
“I’m not sleepy.”
“Stubborn. How about this, then?”
Sofia began gently patting Anshi’s shoulder. Just like she used to when little Anshi wouldn’t sleep.
Anshi’s eyes fluttered closed.
Sofia smiled softly. After losing her dear husband and son, this girl was her only remaining treasure. Her only wish now was for Anshi to be happy.
“Could you help me?”
Sofia turned to Damion, who had been quietly sitting on the opposite couch, giving the mother and daughter space.
He rose and gently carried Anshi to the upstairs bedroom, laying her on the bed with care.
Sleeping peacefully, she looked just like an angel.
Lately, she had looked tired—likely from shadowing Marianne everywhere. But it seemed like something she genuinely wanted to do, so he hadn’t interfered.
She was trying to find her place within her new family. It seemed like a way to make up for the Rubelsa name she had long rejected, and for the past year, during which she had abandoned her identity as Anshi.
If that was her wish—then Damion’s own wounds and memories didn’t matter.
