Winter Field Chapter 12

“Moreover, they say the person was not even human, but a different species.”

“Pardon?”

His brow furrowed instinctively. Though he quickly composed his expression, Rensley’s mind grew even more tangled.

‘What is he suddenly talking about? Could the Grand Duke be mad as well?’

They say that when someone is severely mad, they can actually appear calm—was he truly a madman as the rumors said? While Rensley’s gaze flickered unsteadily as suspicion began to creep in, the Grand Duke continued his explanation as if having no intention of matching the pace of his thoughts.

“That seems to have been the first and last instance of taking a male Grand Duchess, but regardless, it is not an entirely unprecedented case.”

“…”

“However, even then, another noblewoman’s name was recorded in the marriage registry. So while her name appears in the official records, historical sources confirming the existence of the male Grand Duchess of a different species remain scattered here and there. Though they have vanished now, it is said that beings other than humans once lived on this continent in ancient times, so I presume it was a marriage arranged for a pact with them.”

Rensley rolled his eyes. He felt as though his body would twist itself into knots if he did not endure with all his might. His fingertips and toes, gathered together respectfully, twitched minutely.

Even as he guessed what the Grand Duke was about to say, he wanted to deny it. Dreading even to confirm it with his own lips, he only waited for the Grand Duke to state his conclusion clearly. And that moment arrived without mercy.

“I intend to hold the ceremony with the bride sent from Cornia. I plan to send a letter to the Cornia royal family as well, stating that I have safely received the person they sent. I have simply, as the Emperor commanded, taken the bride sent from Cornia as my Grand Duchess.”

“…”

“If that is done, it seems no one will find themselves in a difficult position or face punishment over this matter. What are your thoughts, Prince?”

“But in that case.”

Rensley’s words caught in his throat and he swallowed his breath for a beat.

“What of the successor? Do you not need a Grand Duchess to bear the Grand Duke’s child? Moreover… even if we gloss over it now, should His Imperial Majesty or others discover my true identity later.”

“To have an audience with the Emperor as Grand Duke and Grand Duchess, winter must pass at the very least. There seems no need to worry about it already. Did you not ask me to spare your life?”

The Grand Duke looked steadily at Rensley as if expecting an answer.

…His way of handling it, if not perfect, was at least the most appropriate for the present situation. Especially in terms of minimizing the responsibility of the Grand Duke himself and Oldenland.

The Emperor wished for a ‘princess’ to be chosen from Cornia and sent to Oldenland, and the King of Cornia defied half of that proposal and, though an illegitimate child, sent his own ‘prince,’ Rensley, to the north.

However, Gisel Siebendad is merely taking ‘the bride sent from Cornia’ as the Emperor commanded. Even if people later question or ridicule that decision, if he excuses himself by saying he, too, thought it to be His Imperial Majesty’s will that a male bride was sent, no one would venture to debate the right or wrong of that statement needlessly. Moreover, as the Grand Duke was known to the world as an eccentric figure, there was room for people to accept even somewhat incomprehensible actions.

In this distorted marriage, only Gisel Siebendad was innocent. However, should he falsely inform the Emperor that the bride had run away, from that moment on, the Grand Duke would become an accomplice as well.

Was that all? Even if it was a country with little exchange with other kingdoms, by Rensley’s very presence alone, Oldenland had effectively gained leverage to call Cornia to account in the future. Why would Grand Duke Gisel forgo a political advantage?

Had he been dealing with the man from when sympathy for his unfortunate fiancée still remained, he might have been persuaded to aid a elopement for love, but that opportunity had already been thrown away by his own hand. There was absolutely no reason for the Grand Duke to extend leniency to Rensley Malosen, a fake princess and a fellow man.

“I, Rensley Malosen,”

There was no other way. Rensley placed his right hand over his left chest and bowed his head.

When he was young, he wanted to become a splendid knight when he grew up. He wanted to meet a liege he could respect—not the current King of Cornia—and swear loyalty to him. It was a dream that had faded since he learned the reality that lords who would employ an unproperly educated illegitimate child of a royal family as a knight were exceedingly rare, and that knights themselves were not the pure warriors he had admired in childhood.

Now he was finally making even a semblance of that gesture, yet here he was, clad in hastily thrown-on sleepwear. Even so, Rensley resolved himself firmly.

“I will follow Your Highness the Grand Duke’s decision with all my loyalty. Please tell me what I must do and how.”

“There is nothing in particular to do. You simply have to hold the wedding ceremony as Grand Duchess, as decided.”

“…Then, do you intend to make it known to the people that I am a man?”

The Grand Duke tilted his gaze to the side, considered it very briefly, and summed it up simply.

“Let us set that point aside for a little while. In any case, until the ceremony is completed, you cannot show your bare face to others nor speak, can you?”

His new liege’s attitude was just as indifferent as the sleepwear of the one who had sworn loyalty. Rensley perceptively accepted that he had fallen from being a fiancée to whom compassion and kindness should be shown, into something more like a troublesome chore.

Still, he had avoided a beheading, so was this a success or a failure? While he was ruminating over the gamble of a lifetime, the Grand Duke rose to his feet.

“Is there anything you need?”

“Pardon?”

“Now that things have come to this, it would be best to reduce contact with people until the future course is decided. Tell me if you need anything. I will see to it myself.”

Unable to answer immediately, Rensley gaped for a moment before his face flushed slightly. It might seem shameless amid the gravity of the situation, but things were already spiraling into a mess anyway.

“I have not eaten anything since departing from the last inn yesterday… I would like to have a meal.”

After all, this whole chaotic mess was to preserve his life; he mustn’t starve to death. He thought the Grand Duke might reveal a mocking intent, but he merely nodded.

“Wait here.”

He straightened his cloak and stood. The entire time Rensley watched, he walked out the door without once looking back.

Only after the bedroom door had fully closed did Rensley let out a deep sigh and slump down onto the bed. A flood of thoughts rushed in, but he shook his head vigorously, shaking them off.

‘For now, let us consider it fortunate that I’ve escaped the death penalty.’

The King of Cornia had changed his queen several times; there was no reason Grand Duke Gisel could not do the same. It was not too late to worry about his own treatment after holding the deceptive marriage and weathering the immediate situation.

Surely the Grand Duke was not genuinely planning to spend his entire life with a male Grand Duchess either.

∞ ∞ ∞

Feeling awkward about continuing to wear women’s sleepwear, he changed into Cornia’s men’s clothing and waited, but the Grand Duke did not return for quite a long time.

Before he knew it, Rensley was lying sprawled on the bed, rolling about while recalling the smell of roasting meat, the smell of bubbling oil, the smell of pungent spices that he had caught from the kitchen. The thought that he would be able to fill his stomach offered a sliver of comfort to his troubled heart.

—I will bring it in myself. Withdraw.

The voice he had been waiting for came from outside the door. Rensley bolted upright as if he had never been lying down. Standing with his hands gathered respectfully, he bowed his head toward the Grand Duke as he entered the bedroom.

“You have returned.”

“There is no need to stand on ceremony every time.”

Though it did not seem like an empty remark, how could he do that, being Grand Duchess in name only but practically a subordinate now? Rensley smiled awkwardly and approached him. The sight of the Grand Duke, a sharp-featured man draped in a sovereign’s cloak, carrying a food tray more suited to the hands of servants, was like a scene from a farce.

“I will carry it.”

“Be seated.”

He dismissed Rensley’s offer and set the tray down on the table. On the large tray were a roasted goose leg, bread, cheese, and a red soup whose ingredients he could not identify. A sweet aroma wafted from the teacup placed alongside.

Faced with such an appetizing sight, his hunger grew all the more acute, and his mouth watered instinctively. If only there were a glass of wine on this tray instead of honey-sweetened tea, there would be nothing more to wish for… But now was not the time to be particular about tastes.

“Thank you, Your Highness.”