Chapter 3
***
The word ‘husband’ was so foreign to her.
Claude Adrian Victor Robertson von Killiatzman.
The long name that came out of the Archbishop's lips on the wedding day came to mind.
Despite his noble status as the third son of the Emperor, he was a member of the royal family who went to war.
A hero who volunteered to go to war and brought victory to the Empire.
There were many who cursed Elise for monopolizing such a man despite being a fallen noble, but her relationship with Claude was merely a formality.
In the past three years, her husband had only returned a handful of times, so that was all that was needed.
Of course, as a blind woman, she wouldn't know if he'd stayed in the mansion without telling her.
"He will not come."
"Then you should write to him, Your Grace. You should stay with the prince, eh? You know, to break the.... between him and his wife."
Nella's voice trembled, as if she were suggesting something unthinkable.
"...It would be better for the prince to have an heir."
From the sigh that followed, Elise understood Nella's intentions.
At the same time, memories of the past flashed through her mind.
It was the longest conversation they'd had since their marriage, and the most recent time she'd seen him.
"What do you think?"
Claude had asked, tearing up the letter from the Empress.
"Of what?"
"This ridiculous advice."
The Empress couldn't sincerely hope that Claude, who was always threatening the crown prince, her son, would have any children. In short, it was just for the sake of picking.
A stepson whose wings had been clipped by a bad wife.
Elise pressed her lips together, unsure of what to say in response, but Claude grabbed her chin and turned it, as if he couldn't bear to have her gaze away from him.
A true soldier of a kinder, gentler time. The epitome of a gentleman.
And yet, for all that he was, there were many things she couldn't stand about him. Ever since the first time she'd seen him.
"Look at me."
His voice was as fierce as an animal's.
"What am I doing with a woman who can't even make eye contact?"
He'd slammed the door and disappeared.
The idea of having a child with a man who didn't even want to touch her was absurd.
"He won't come, Nella."
Repeating herself, Elise cut off Nella's hope.
"Yes..."
After a few moments of silence, Nella muttered in a small voice, as if her predicament was understandable.
"I mean, you’ve seen him a few times since then, but not for long, so... it's not easy to get attached, I suppose... Well, I heard that's how all noblewomen live......."
It wasn't the first time.
Elise swallowed hard as she watched Nella squirm like a small child.
She traveled back in time, briefly recalling the first time she'd seen Claude von Killiatzman.
"Go back."
Back to the battlefield, where there was chaos everywhere.
"It's no place for a noble to stay."
A man alone in a place where the word hell wasn’t an exaggeration.
Even back then, when she never dreamed that they would become entangled in this way, she thought his indifferent eyes were very beautiful.
"Speaking of which, Your Grace, there was a letter for you."
"A letter?"
"Aye. From the Earl of Winterdell. Shall I read it to you?"
"......Would you?"
Elise replied, her expression instantly turning cold.
Many of the maids were illiterate, but Nella was literate. There was the sound of an envelope being ripped open, and then Nella's voice rang out.
"...To the favored daughter who forgot all about her father and changed her name."
Nella cleared her throat, not for the first time, as if embarrassed.
"I don't know who taught you to be so disrespectful as to never write a letter or show your face without your father contacting you first, but I'm sure your mother did."
Her father's anger at the mention of her mother, who must have been on the run for at least a decade, was palpable.
The first time she heard his letter through Nella, Elise shuddered at the shame she had exposed to others, but now, three years later, she no longer cared.
"All you do is keep me in the hospital with your husband's money. Should I continue reading, Your Grace?”
Had he already forgotten that it was Elise who had paid for his hospital bills, teaching the wives of the wealthy in secret to keep the family name out of sight.
"Go on."
It's only a letter.
Elise thought calmly.
He couldn’t get out of bed on his own, and he couldn’t do anything except write. A letter, to be ignored.
He wrote these letters to Elise nonstop for three years.
It was only the name Winterdell that kept her from abandoning her incompetent and relentlessly harassing father to this day.
Winterdell.
Her grandfather always taught her to never forget the weight of her last name.
It was her grandfather who practically raised her. He died when she was young, but the ten years she spent growing up at his hands shaped the rest of her life.
Elise wanted to protect what her grandfather loved.
She didn't want the name Winterdell to disappear from the world.
It was for that reason alone that she had supported her father, who had mocked her, spent all the money, and blamed her for everything.
"Just like you’re selling your body... Mmm! Hmph!”
Nella stammered, unable to get the raw insult out of her mouth.
It was then.
"Ah...!"
Nella's gasp of surprise was accompanied by the sound of a paper crumpling harshly.
"Nella?"
"I, I... No, Mr. Philip. He's here."
As Nella spoke, Elise felt a heavy presence approaching.
His sturdy, straight, unhesitating steps led straight to Elise's bed. When he stopped right in front of her she felt a tapping sensation on the back of her hand with his fingers.
Then a large hand wrapped around hers, another's fingers brushing against her palm.
<How are you, Your Grace?>
"It's been a long time, Philip."
Elise lifted her eyes to his and smiled as if she could see him.
The rich scent of his cologne tickled the tip of her nose.
He had come to her like a gift when she was in the depths of depression.
Come to think of it, something was off about that day.
"Your Grace. The crown prince has sent someone to see you."
The maid, who had knocked on the door with the usual courtesy, had changed her demeanor to the point where Elise thought it was someone else.
Her voice trembled as if there was a terrifying figure standing next to her.
It was as if she was scolded badly.
"This is the person who will be taking care of you from now on... No, this is the person who will serve you. Please tell him to excuse me for a moment."
As Elise scratched her head in disbelief, she heard footsteps approaching me.
With the same straight, precise stride she now recognized, he tapped her on the back of her hand.
Elise shuddered at the sudden contact, and he gently took her hand in his, writing with his fingers on her palm.
<It is an honor to meet you. Your Grace.>
"Oh...............?"
"He...he is a mute. Your Grace."
<Please take care of me.>
The man who introduced himself as Philip was Claude’s second-in-command.
He was wounded at the frontline and could no longer stay by his side, so he was sent by him to her.
He was sent by her husband, so she assumed he would be no different than any other arrogant servant, but Philip was tender with her.
As much as Nella. No, he cared for her more than Nella had.
He helped her overcome her despair.
He took her hand, helped her walk, and gradually expanded her circle of life, realizing that being confined to her room only deepened her depression.
From the bed into the room. Out of the bedroom into the hallway. Into the garden and out into the world.
Philip slowly expanded her world, which had narrowed after her marriage.
<You're moving into the annex>.
In the aftermath of losing her sight, Elise became acutely sensitive to hearing.
The sounds of unfriendly servants gathered around her, hooting and hollering at her, bothered her.
Philip got permission from her husband for Elise to stay in the annex.
It was quieter than the main house, and she quickly settled in.
She owed much to Philip's help in getting through the past three difficult years.
Many other good things had happened since his arrival.
Servants who had been blatantly disrespectful had become more formal and polite toward her, and her meals had been transformed from poor to nutritionally balanced.
He was like a lucky charm.
Like spring finally arriving after a long winter, his arrival seemed to make everything better.
***
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