***
Despite Marianne’s complaints, Judith was too preoccupied with matters to pay attention to them.
Judith distinctly remembered the first time she had met Franz.
Back then, the thought of going to a foreign country alone, without Marianne, had left her overwhelmed and she cried endlessly.
She hadn’t even thought it odd that the prince himself had come to personally fetch her.
Looking back now, it seemed truly ludicrous.
What kind of nation would send their prince to collect a poor princess from a destitute land, someone who was not even being formally welcomed as a princess?
It was a clear indication of the treatment Franz received in Lotheir, and from Queen Gilsis, but at the time, Judith lacked the presence of mind to realize it.
Fear eroded insight.
When consumed by fear, one becomes incapable of thinking.
Without the ability to think clearly, one would fail to avoid a trap, even if it were right before them, and ultimately meet their end.
This was the greatest lesson she had learned from her past life.
No matter what came her way, she must not be afraid.
Even when facing an unbeatable enemy, if she stopped thinking, the battle would end before it even began.
“Your Highness, it might get cold in the carriage, so take this.
I’ll be riding in a separate carriage behind, so it will be difficult for me to provide you with things as needed.”
Judith took the bundle of cloth Marianne offered and nodded.
The carriage for the servants was sure to be cramped and uncomfortable.
Marianne clearly didn’t want to leave her side, but Judith would be traveling in the same carriage as Franz.
Thinking about the conversations she needed to have with him, it was better if Marianne wasn’t around.
“Yes, if it gets too uncomfortable, be sure to tell me, okay?
I’ll make sure to get you a more comfortable carriage.”
“Oh, Your Highness.
Do you really think I’m the kind of person to complain about such things?
You know how tough I am.
Don’t worry about me.
I’m more worried about you.
You get motion sickness so easily…”
“I won’t get motion sickness anymore.
It’s alright.”
“Your Highness, one’s constitution doesn’t change easily.”
As Marianne continued to worry, stroking Judith’s shoulder, four carriages approached, making a rumbling sound.
Unlike the carriages commonly seen in the Tien Kingdom, these had larger spokes and a roof with a sharp, pointed finish.
“Those must be Lotheir carriages!
They’re different from Tien carriages.”
“Lotheir doesn’t bother with pointless decorations like Tien does.”
“Your Highness, do you know a lot about the Lotheir Kingdom?”
Surprised by Marianne’s question, she awkwardly laughed, realizing her slip-up.
“Tien is all about grandeur.
Maybe that’s why I thought that.
I mean, what do I really know about Lotheir?”
“You’ve been acting like a different person lately.
You’ve been saying things that sound like you’ve suddenly aged a lot…”
Just as Marianne was about to continue, the door of the carriage that had stopped in front of them opened.
Judith blinked slowly as a middle-aged man stepped down, adjusting his stiff, high collar, a habit he seemed to have.
‘This man is definitely Duke Berzi’s secretary.’
The House of Berzi was the only family that supported Prince Franz in Lotheir.
Duke Berzi, Franz’s maternal uncle and brother of the late queen, was the only person in Lotheir at the time who could stand against Queen Gilsis.
‘After Franz began showing signs of madness, the family were unjustly wiped out.
Accused of driving him mad…’
Judith had met Duke Berzi a couple of times, but never clearly enough to remember his face properly.
He must have felt immense sympathy for her back then, seeing her so frightened and trembling.
Of course, not for her sake, but for Franz’s.
He must have been furious that Franz, with nothing left, was forced to marry someone as absurd as she was.
If she wanted revenge on Queen Gilsis, she had to prevent the Berzi family from being destroyed.
And to do that, Franz had to remain sane.
This was the most troubling dilemma Judith faced.
How could she possibly prevent someone from going insane?
“Your Highness, please enter the carriage.”
The duke’s secretary cautiously spoke as Judith stood motionless.
She gave Marianne, who looked deeply concerned, a reassuring pat on the back before slowly boarding the carriage.
Her gaze briefly met the man sitting across from her, her eyes clouding with complex emotions.
The man who was once her husband.
No love had ever passed between them, nor anything else, yet he was the only tie she felt she had to hold onto.
Franz Jedekair.
“Your Highness Franz.”
As Judith sat down, the secretary poked his head into the open carriage door.
Franz’s gaze remained fixed on the window, not reacting her arrival and anyone who called out to him.
“I will follow in the carriage behind.
If anything happens, I will respond immediately, so please don’t worry, both of you.”
The duke’s secretary was also an accomplished soldier.
Without him, Judith probably wouldn’t have even reached Lotheir alive.
She remembered an incident during their journey when bandits attacked the carriage.
With so few soldiers escorting them, everyone could have lost their lives.
The secretary had single-handedly dealt with the bandits.
Thinking back to that time, when she had been too terrified to even faint, Judith gave a wistful smile.
‘Thinking about it, this man didn’t even try to save me back then.’
Judith’s eyes flickered towards Franz briefly before she sank back into a deep, complex state of reflection.
When the bandits attacked the carriage, Franz didn’t just fail to save Judith, he didn’t even try to protect himself.
He had no desire to live.
That had been clear even then.
At the time, she hadn’t understood it.
She was just shocked and heartbroken that her husband hadn’t drawn his sword for her, even in such a dangerous situation.
‘I’m not worthy of anyone’s love,’ she thought bitterly.
‘If even my husband doesn’t save me, then there’s no one I can trust.’
From that point on, Judith became afraid of Franz.
Whenever he was near, she felt dizzy and found it difficult to breathe.
Of course, physical intimacy was out of the question, Franz didn’t even attempt to touch her.
‘I was so lonely.’
As Judith lowered her head, a torrent of melancholy thoughts from the past rained down on her.
When she had been imprisoned in the tower by the queen, Judith begged the guards, desperate enough to consider hanging herself.
She pleaded for them to bring Franz to her.
She wanted to see his face and speak to him, even if it was just for a moment.
Despite years of silence between them and Franz’s increasing madness, he was someone Judith desperately needed at that moment.
She didn’t want to fade away unnoticed in that place, falsely accused and forgotten.
She wanted Franz to believe her.
She needed him to say something—anything—for her sake.
“Your Highness, Your Highness…
it wasn’t me.
I really didn’t do it.
I… I didn’t… Your Highness, please believe me.
Please… I, I…”
“…”
“Your Highness, Franz, Your Highness… please… sob, please… say something…”
Recalling the chilling touch of the stone floor when she burst into tears and prostrated herself, Judith shuddered.
The damp smell and temperature of that moment were still vivid in her memory.
At that time, Franz ultimately didn’t say a single word in her defense.
He simply looked down at her indifferently, or perhaps with the blank stare of someone already mad, and left without a word.
That was the last time they met.
But why had he tried to kill Krolld?
Had it been for her, or had he simply lost his mind?
“Your Highness Franz.”
After a long silence Judith finally called out to him.
It felt like it had been a hundred years since she last called his name— so distant that it made her want to laugh and cry at the same time.
She didn’t love him, nor was she loved by him, but she had pitied him back then.
Even though he had never said a kind word, or assured her that he believed her, he had come to the tower when she called.
At that point, the illness had already begun to consume him, and he was prone to fits of madness.
She couldn’t love him now, but she could make him king.
Once she drove Queen Gilsis and her son Krolld to a fate worse than death, the throne would naturally be Franz’s.
“…”
After a long pause, he slowly turned his head.
Judith stared silently at his face, as he looked straight at her.
Was he always this handsome?
It was absurd and even humorous that the face of her husband was the most ambiguous thing about him.
He looked a bit younger than she remembered.
He was two years older than her, so Franz was nineteen now.
He hadn’t even had his coming-of-age ceremony yet.
And he didn’t yet show any signs of the illness, his eyes still sparkling with intelligence.
There was no youthful energy, ambition, or even the excitement or curiosity one might feel when meeting their first partner.
But his indifference brought back her memories of Franz one by one—his hair, like a newly kindled flame, his delicate, melancholic eyebrows, and his quiet, intense gaze.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Your Highness.
My name is Judith Loervinev.”
“…” Franz didn’t respond.
He just stared out the window, as if he were in his own world, unable to hear anything.
Judith hesitated for a moment before trying to be a little bolder.
“I was curious about what kind of person you were, and now that I’ve met you…”
“…I heard.”
“Yes?”
Franz’s lips, which had been tightly closed, finally parted, and he muttered something to himself.
Surprised by his sudden words, Judith asked again.
He straightened up, pulling himself away from the window.
“I heard that you were a very quiet princess, but it seems that’s not the case.”
“Did you hear about me?”
“I did.
Several times, enough to never forget.”
Franz spoke casually but then suddenly lowered his head and began to laugh, a sound escaping like air from a deflating balloon.
Judith could tell who had told him about her, just from his expression.
It must have been Queen Gilsis.
Without a doubt.