***
Franz stood before the mirror, tilting his head slightly.
A long, pristine white cloth stretched from his temple to his jawline, barely grazing his chin.
He moved his injured lip slightly, feeling a dull ache radiating across his cheek.
It seemed he wouldn’t be able to eat comfortably for some time.
‘At least I don’t have to talk much.’
If his life hadn’t been so abnormal, this would have caused significant trouble.
However, as someone who rarely received visitors and often spent his days locked in Astel Palace, hardly speaking to anyone, Franz found himself considering this isolation a strange sort of blessing.
He let out a bitter chuckle at the thought.
Duke Berzi, who rushed to him upon hearing the news, nearly fainted at the sight of his blood-soaked face.
By then, the healers had already treated his wounds, leaving only a few traces of dried blood, but the duke’s anger was palpable.
The fact that Franz had been so badly injured while trying to protect Judith only fueled his rage.
The queen’s brutal beating of the young princess, who was still so young, was one thing, but the fact that Franz, who usually kept his distance from the queen, had actually dashed into the palace to save her, was almost unbelievable.
The enraged duke vowed to expose the queen’s atrocities at the next council meeting and ensure her punishment, but Franz stopped him.
The duke, his face flushed with incomprehension, erupted in fury at his response.
“You are a prince of this nation!
No matter how powerful the queen may be, how dare she commit such barbarity!
I won’t allow her to get away with it this time!”
“It will only make the princess suffer more, Uncle.”
The duke was rendered speechless by Franz’s plea.
It wasn’t fear of the queen that silenced him, but rather his nephew’s concern for the princess.
Ultimately swayed by Franz’s earnest persuasion, the duke relented, agreeing to not openly criticize the queen’s actions at the council meeting, but also vowing not to simply ignore them.
Franz, seeing no way to dissuade him further, kept his silence.
Even if the news spread, the queen’s stronghold over the majority of nobles made it unlikely to incite a major upheaval.
Still, the news of the princess’s brutal beating would undoubtedly stir some behind-the-scenes discussions, and for those nobles who remained neutral, it would deal a serious blow to the queen’s reputation.
Franz ran his fingers over the cloth on his cheek before turning and stepping into the bedroom.
Astel Palace being modest in size, had no surplus of rooms.
And with so few visitors, the only room that could be considered a bedroom was the one where Judith now lay.
The bedroom, bathed in the blue dusk that had settled after sunset, felt strangely unfamiliar.
Was it because someone else was lying in his bed?
Or was it the acrid smell that filled the room?
His gaze flickered to Marianne, curled up on the couch in the distance.
He pulled a chair from beside the bedside table and placed it near Judith.
Her forehead glistened with cold sweat.
Was it the dim light making her face look so pale, or was it the medicine and the pain?
Her face, serene in sleep, seemed worn and fragile.
On impulse, Franz reached out and gently brushed a few stray strands of hair from her face.
The moment he did, her even breathing turned into a shaky gasp, and her eyelids fluttered open.
Against the backdrop of the room’s shadowy stillness, his silhouette loomed faintly, startling her.
Memories of the horrifying act committed by Krolld resurfaced in an instant, flashing through her mind like a bolt of lightning.
She flinched instinctively, barely able to open her eyes, shrinking back as if to run away.
Franz, noting her panic, gently but firmly gripped her shoulder.
“Don’t be scared,” he murmured, his voice low and steady.
Judith slowly regained her composure at the sound of his soothing, low voice.
It was only then that she realized she was still lying in Franz’s bed.
Her gaze wavered uncertainly.
“Your Highness, where is Marianne…?”
“She fell asleep while tending to you.”
“…I’ll take her back.”
“Let her stay here tonight.
You’re in no condition to be moving around.”
Could he not have said it more gently?
Franz felt a pang of self-reproach at how blunt his words sounded, despite his desire to comfort Judith.
He wanted to comfort her, to soothe her wounds, but his awkwardness betrayed him.
She remained silent, her gaze fixed on his face, half-obscured by shadow.
A strange conflict stirred within her—the desire to see his face up close battling with the inexplicable urge to avoid him.
This inner struggle prompted a sudden wave of embarrassment to wash over her.
“Your wound…” Franz began cautiously, his voice trailing off.
She shifted slightly, her brow furrowing at the damp, sticky feeling against her back, but nodded.
“I’m fine, Your Highness.
It’s you who’s injured, I heard.
I…”
“I’m fine.
You need to change your dressings.”
“But…
Marianne’s sleeping…”
“I can do it.”
Judith blinked, speechless.
Franz, who seemed to be embarrassed at having initiated the conversation, ran his fingertips around his jaw, then slowly rose to his feet.
“I’ll get the things the palace attendants left behind.”
The measured sound of his leather boots on the floor gradually faded away.
Judith lay still, gazing at the ceiling, unable to discern its color in the darkness.
Come to think of it, this was the first time in her two lifetimes that she had looked at the ceiling of Astel Palace for so long.
The serene feeling she always had whenever she visited this place was probably due to the color of the ceiling, she mused.
Franz returned with a small silver bowl and a candlestick just as Judith had counted about ten of the carvings on the pillars that supported the ceiling.
The bowl was filled with a pungent-smelling medicine.
He carefully placed the candlestick on the bedside table and then lifted the thin sheet covering her.
The herbal poultice on her back had stained the sleeves of her chemise with a mottled, dark color, visible in the flickering light.
Franz reached out, stabilizing her shoulders to help her sit up.
But for a moment, a look of confusion crossed his face.
If he lifted her up like that, it would put a lot of strain on her injured back.
“Can you hold out your arm?” Franz asked, gently holding her thin shoulder.
At that moment, the small candle flickered, threatening to die out, but then flared back to life with a whoosh.
For a moment, his face was so close that Judith bit her lip and lowered her gaze.
Then, slowly, she raised her arm and put it around his shoulder.
As he helped her up, a soft whistle escaped his lips.
The herbal poultice stuck to her back, leaving a gooey trail.
Judith glanced at the bed and then turned her head apologetically.
“I’m sorry for making a mess of your bed, Your Highness.”
“It’s just the poultice seeping out.
It can’t be helped.
We can change the bed, so don’t worry.”
Franz replied nonchalantly, using a clean cloth to gently peel away the dried poultice from her back.
He was horrified by the sight of her skin, swollen and red, like a snake had crawled over it.
It was a good thing Judith couldn’t see it.
“This might sting a little…”
Judith, hunched over and bit her lip, enduring the pain as the cold medicine touched her wounds, sending goosebumps all over her body.
However, she felt Franz’s light, gentle touch more acutely than the sensation of the crushed herbs covering her skin.
It was as if the heat from the candle flame had spread to her cheeks, leaving them burning.
She didn’t understand this feeling.
Judith closed her eyes, somewhat bewildered.
She had never felt this way before, not even when she didn’t know about anger, resentment, or the desire for revenge.
Had she wanted to understand it?
Even that seemed uncertain now.
It felt like a faint breeze was blowing through her heart.
A single, young leaf, caught by that breeze fell onto the still surface of a deep, quiet pool, creating a ripple of stillness.
“Your hair.”
Lost in her thoughts, Judith snapped out of it at Franz’s voice.
“Your Highness, what did you say?”
“…It might be more comfortable to sleep with your hair tied up again.”
“Oh…”
Because of the poultice on her back, Judith’s long hair had fallen forward over her shoulders.
During the initial treatment, they hadn’t thought to deal with her hair, so it was tangled with clumps of dried herbs.
Judith smiled, trying to sound nonchalant as she pulled away the medicine stuck to her hair.
“It’s already a mess anyway.
I could just…”
Franz didn’t let her finish, pulling out a ribbon that had been holding the collar of his shirt together.
There was no lace or anything to tie her hair with in Astel Palace, where only he resided, so he was trying to make do with a makeshift solution.
His long, white fingers gently wrapped around her hair.
She remained silent, patiently enduring his clumsy movements.
She realized that the heat on her cheeks, which had just subsided, was rising again, subtly, when she felt his lips near her forehead, almost touching it.
Amid the sharp scent of medicine, she could also smell his fresh, clean scent.
Without realizing it, Judith stole a glance at his face.
He seemed so focused on the unfamiliar task that his lips were slightly parted, almost childlike.
It was so endearing and amusing that Judith couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle.
“Why are you laughing?”
“…Just because you’re tying my hair so diligently, Your Highness.”
“It’s not going as well as I thought…
But this should be good enough for tonight.”
As he moved away, so did the scent that had surrounded her.
Though she felt a pang of regret, she didn’t show it, instead, she touched the braid that Franz had made.
It was a clumsy job, but she minded it.
“Go to sleep.”
Franz, who had been as careful helping her lie down as he had been when he helped her up, pulled the sheet over her.
“Would you stay with me?”
“What?”
“Just until I fall asleep.
If you’re tired, it’s okay…”
She had never been so demanding, not to Franz or anyone else.
She hadn’t even known that she was capable of asking such a thing, but she didn’t regret it.
Franz, looking down at her small hand, which had cautiously reached out beyond the sheet, nodded silently.
Judith, reassured by the warmth that enveloped her fingertips, smiled and closed her eyes.
Franz, in the same position he had been in, sitting on the chair, also drifted off to sleep.
Like two small birds seeking shelter from the rain, huddled together under a branch, their clasped fingertips never let go of throughout the night.