Chapter 2.1

The next day, preparations to leave for the North were quickly completed without her having a chance to breathe. She had nothing to prepare and only one maid and a few knights of the family followed her as her escort.

The nanny, who had been wiping her drenched tears with the handkerchief, finally patted Anne’s hand. As she climbed into the carriage, the voices of her family caught her from behind.

“Daughter, I am so proud that you are getting married to such a wonderful family.”

Those were the same words she had heard when she was engaged to the Marquis.

“Angroanne, take note. Don’t forget that you are the daughter of our family, and make sure to give birth to an heir.”

Even if you become a ghost in that house, do not forget to repay the price for raising you and make sure to steal their wealth in moderation.

“Compared to the concubine, she is no match for you. If you have a smooth face and body, that old man will die.”

It sounded like she was only going there to offer up her body like a vulgar whore.

It all sounded that way to her. Anne entered the carriage without saying a word.

The carriage then moved, the horse whinnying. The vibrating sound transmitted to the chair echoed and was overlaid with the sound of her heart pounding in anger.

I won’t return again. And . . .

Anne pressed down the last thought firmly. She didn’t look through the window at the house she would never visit again.

“Miss, your cheek is still very swollen.”

At the maid’s question, who was sitting opposite her, Anne placed her hand on her cheek. Even without looking in the mirror, her swollen flesh could be clearly felt on the knuckle of her fingers.

The maid had brought her ice packs until just before bed, but by morning it was useless and one of her cheeks had swollen even more. The red handprint had disappeared, but anyone could see that she had been slapped.

“In a few days, it will disappear.”

“You will have to nurse it until we arrive at the Grand Duchy . . .”

The maid cried, saying that she was sorry for everything.

Grand Duke Cromund— a powerful man with the north as his domain— had never once revealed his face, but all sorts of hideous rumors spread all the way to the capital. Like her, who was overcome with emptiness at the thought that she had endured until now to become such a man’s wife, the maid groaned in sorrow.

“It’s okay. It doesn’t matter if he finds out.”

Suddenly Anne remembered the face of Salton Whitmore, who had suddenly visited last night. Her parents, unable to refuse the Marquisate heir, allowed her to meet him, who came to her unexpectedly without a prior request for a visit.

Although she had deliberately met him in a dark surrounding without even a light, Salton recognized the traces on her face at once.

“Lady, your face . . .”

“Ah . . . it’s nothing.”

Anne had turned her head to hide, covering her cheek with her hand. As though he were angry, Salton’s eyes went cold for an instant. For the first time since they had met, he wasn’t wearing his bright, sunny smile.

“The dissolution . . . I didn’t mean it.”

“I know . . .”

He had been surprised at first, but someone as kind and friendly as him wouldn’t have abandoned his fiance so coldly. The dissolution was probably the decision of his father, Marquis Whitmore.

Pressure came from the Grand Duke. I also realized for the first time that my father was such a weak person.

Even he had been shocked by the shabby state of his father, who he had considered great for his whole life. To that extent, the Grand Duchy was a family at the pinnacle of power that even the imperial family could not recklessly provoke.

“Lady, I . . .”

He had pursed his lips as if this situation was frustrating, but didn’t say anything further. He wouldn’t tell her not to go, he wouldn’t tell her to wait and that they would find a solution . . . He had always been that way.

Anne had placed her hand on Salton’s arm, his head bowed in front of her. The feeble tremors were transmitted from him.

“I’m fine.”

As it had not been his intention to dissolve their engagement, Anne had opened her mouth consolingly.

Salton’s dark brown eyes shuttered in pain. Leaving behind the stiffened Salton, Anne turned away. There was nothing more she could have done. After all, she was only engaged in an arranged and strategic relationship with him. There had been no love in the first place.

When they were married, she thought that maybe he would give her a little bit of happiness, but that was her last meeting with someone she was slightly affectionate with.

“At the accommodation we are arriving at today, I will use medicinal herbs that are good for reducing swelling.”

Her thoughts, which she had been drowning in for a moment, were erased like a dream by the voice of the maid. She was still concerned about her master’s cheek.

“Don’t worry, it will be gone in a week.”

Since it was quite a distance, it takes about a week to get from the capital to the north, even with the power of a fast carriage. Still, the maid feared that she would be marred by the wound, so she was worried.

“You’re still a new bride . . .”

Her mind was made even more complicated when she saw the maid trying to hold back her watery voice. Anne turned her eyes away, pretending not to see the tears. Instead, she pulled out the book she had brought from her modest luggage bag.

She wasn’t in the mood to chat, and reading helped her to suppress her complicated feelings. She was going to the Grand Duchy, so she was unsure what she should pack. She brought a hardcover book that was easy to carry. If she had left it alone, it would have spent its life buried under dust anyway.

As she turned the page, the book opened wide, revealing the string that marked the area she had read. It was the chapter right before the end.

It will take a week . . .

An indifferent hand pulled the string away and flipped to the front page. It would be a long time and she wanted to read the ending just before arriving in the North. Beginning with the author’s words on the first page, Anne quietly read the words.