TWOP Ch 3

“……!”

Even in her dazed state, Margarita felt a sudden chill and opened her eyes. As if the previous moment had been a dream, the owner of the voice was already gone. Only the moonlight, flooding in through the window, illuminated her.

“When the moon rises, I want to dance.”

The voice of the woman in her dream on the night of the full moon.

“If you don’t want to die…you’d better follow me immediately.”

The voice of the person who had been beside her just a moment ago faded away. Margarita fell completely into sleep.

✧🏰˖°

“Princess, no, Your Grace, the Duchess. Are you feeling better now?”

Elise quickly corrected her form of address for Margarita. It was only three days ago that she had called her “Princess,” so it was understandable that she would make the mistake of not changing her address immediately.

That wasn’t the issue now. She had ruined the wedding and abandoned her groom on their wedding night.

Margarita sat up with a stiff expression and asked Elise,

“Where is the Duke?”

“He left last night.”

“Left? Where to?”

“Paitan. Barbarians crossed the northern border, and a battle broke out. He departed urgently at dawn yesterday.”

“Ha….”

She was speechless at the shocking news. He should have taken her, his new wife, with him, but the Duke had left alone.

Margarita pressed her hand to her forehead, retracing the moments before she collapsed. She had taken medicine before the wedding, but perhaps it had worn off, as her condition had rapidly deteriorated, and she had ultimately collapsed before the ceremony was fully completed.

She understood how dumbfounded Carlos must have been. She didn’t know whether he had intended to consummate their marriage, but even if he hadn’t desired her, he might have been displeased by the mere fact that he had no choice in the matter.

So he had seized the excuse and left. Even if he had wanted to return to Paitan quickly, the battle at the northern border would have already ended, so the fact that he had left her and gone alone…

Her situation was still ridiculous, both before and after the wedding. As Margarita was wallowing in self-pity,

“He stopped by briefly last night to see you, Your Grace. Don’t you remember?”

“What?”

“He asked me to bring a glass of water for you, Your Grace.”

“…….”

Only after hearing Elise’s words did the hazy memory of last night resurface. Then, the person who had given her water and spoken to her was Carlos? Were the chilling words that had pierced her ears not a hallucination, but actually spoken by him?

He hadn’t come because he was worried about her, but to say goodbye. Why had he left such words?

“Your Grace. If you’re feeling better, please get dressed. His Highness the Crown Prince requests your presence.”

“…Yes, alright.”

Margarita’s questions were immediately cut short at the mention of Heinrich summoning her. Instead, fear and tension quickly filled her, making her body stiffen. Asla would be with Heinrich, and now all that remained was to be reprimanded for ruining the wedding. Duke Carlos’s rude behavior wasn’t her fault, but neither the Crown Prince nor Asla would see it that way.

‘It’s a harsh season now, so tell her to come when the warm spring arrives.’

That’s what Carlos had said, apparently. Unlike the words he whispered to her, these words, at first glance, seemed full of consideration. She couldn’t tell whether they were true or false. Whether they were superficial words, or whether they meant, “I married you, but I don’t want to see you, so come later.”

Margarita’s thoughts continued until she reached the Crown Prince’s office. She stopped thinking and followed the attendant inside.

“Your Highness.”

As Margarita bowed, the man who had been looking out the window turned around with a wide smile.

Heinrich Emmanuel Felipe.

The Crown Prince, who governed in place of the ailing King, and her older brother.

She always felt it, but he seemed like someone born to be king. His tall stature, sleek physique, shining blond hair, and handsome features on a clean face drew attention wherever he went. As befitting someone raised with the proper education of a monarch, dignity permeated his words, gestures, and aura.

“Marta. My dear sister.”

Except when he addressed her.

“Are you feeling alright?”

Heinrich approached her without hesitation, expressing his affection. He held her shoulders with both hands and examined her complexion with a worried look.

The affectionate older brother who excessively cherished and loved his youngest sister. He had married long ago, but after the Crown Princess died giving birth to their son, he had remained unmarried.

Those around him, including the King, had urged him to remarry, but he always refused, saying, “I have my sister Margarita, so I’m not lonely.” Afterward, he began to seek her out constantly.

“I’m fine. I apologize, Your Highness.”

“For what?”

“For letting the Duke leave like that.”

The fever had been unavoidable, but it shouldn’t have happened to her. How much effort the Crown Prince and Asla had put into making her the perfect Duchess…

“You have nothing to apologize for. I was relieved, actually.”

“What?”

“It was hard enough just watching your wedding ceremony with that bastard….”

Heinrich gently slipped a finger into her hair.

“The thought of you and him being together constantly drove me mad.”

His fingertips stroked Margarita’s abundant blond hair. She felt a shiver run down her spine, but she hid it and changed the subject.

“Your Highness. Did something happen?”

She knew about Heinrich’s obsession with her and his resentment towards the Duke, but this blatant display of emotion was a first. He, who had always been restrained and withdrawn within appropriate boundaries, was losing control.

“Happen? Well, what did you think after seeing your husband’s face in person?”

His voice was refined, but somehow unsettling. Margarita instinctively realized she shouldn’t express her true feelings.

“I couldn’t see him properly. I was wearing a veil.”

“You saw him properly when the veil was lifted. When he kissed you.”

“I was dizzy then, so I couldn’t see him clearly.”

“Lies.”

His quick, sharp reply pierced through her hidden thoughts. His gentle gaze had shifted, now gleaming strangely.

“Seeing Carlos in person, he was even more than I had heard. I never imagined that sickly child would become such a strong man.”

“Your Highness.”

“Marta.”

Heinrich’s hand slowly trailed down from her earlobe and nape. His hand, which had been moving along her collarbone, changed direction and moved downwards.

The moment his fingertips pressed against the top of her breasts, a startled Margarita grabbed his wrist. A wave of intense revulsion and fear washed over her. She was extremely bewildered, as Heinrich had never acted this way before.

“You’ll see him clearly in Paitan, without a veil. And he…”

Heinrich paused, his other hand wrapping around her waist.

“…will see you. Your daytime appearance, dressed so beautifully.”

“…….”

“And your nighttime appearance, wearing nothing at all.”

His eyes, filled with desire, scanned down her neck and stopped at her chest. His gaze, shifting from one breast to the other, clearly imagined what lay hidden beneath.

“And he will bury himself deep inside you. And then…”

Heinrich stopped speaking. His gaze slowly moved down between her breasts and stopped below her waist. Precisely at the spot below her navel, where a woman’s intimate parts are hidden. His head tilted, and his gaze, now lowered, lingered intensely on that area.

“I envy him.”

“Your Highness. Something is wrong with you.”

Margarita forced down her anxiety and asked. She knew Heinrich disliked Duke Carlos, but his current behavior was markedly different from usual.

It wasn’t just jealousy proportionate to his affection for her, but something beyond animosity. It wasn’t behavior befitting someone angry that the Duke was late to the wedding, or that he had presumptuously walked down the aisle with her.

“Maybe, maybe not.”

Uttering these cryptic words, Heinrich smiled, revealing his even teeth. He looked like a perfectly normal ruler, as if the madness she had witnessed a moment ago had been an illusion.

“Your Highness.”

Just as Margarita called out to Heinrich again,

Knock knock. A knock echoed through the room.