CATIP 04

CHAPTER :04

At that request, the King was speechless for a long moment.

In stark contrast to the banquet hall, which was buzzing with excitement over the public proposal, the silence that fell over the King was exceptionally heavy.

– …Are you serious?

Only when the commotion in the hall had finally quieted down did the King speak, his voice laced with reluctance.

With a sharp motion, his hand pointed toward me, sitting at the very end of the table.

Only then did the others realize I was even there, and they shifted in surprise.

– You want *that*?

It was as if he didn’t even view me as his daughter, let alone a fellow human being.

Yet the man nodding in response remained perfectly calm.

– Yes.

– Why?

A gaze similar to mine—and therefore looking all the colder—swept over me.

– Of course, if she takes after her mother, I’m sure she’s good at *something*.

At that vulgar remark, someone snickered.

If the King hadn’t shot a fierce glare in that direction, the mockery would have surely spread.

It was a truly hypocritical attitude.

Having silenced the murmurs with his gaze, the King looked back at the man.

In the silence between them, it felt as if a silent conversation, known only to the two of them, was taking place.

– Everything is but a momentary pleasure.

In this cryptic conversation, the King seemed to have been the one defeated.

Before long, he grimaced and spoke.

– Once it passes, it is utterly meaningless. Nothing remains at the end of a fleeting moment of happiness but scars. I speak from experience, so take this as advice.

His disapproval was clear.

– If you wish, I will gladly give you my sister instead.

He was offering a real princess to the Grand Duke he cherished so deeply—someone he could never deign to offer to the likes of me.

It was an extraordinary proposal.

– My youngest sister is only about five years older than you, and since she happens to be unattached at the moment, you would make a fine match.

It was a subtle attempt to nudge him toward the late king’s youngest daughter, who had returned to the kingdom after being widowed.

But the man was resolute.

– I want Her Highness, the Western Princess.

– …Why her?

The King looked genuinely bewildered.

– Do you have a particular reason?

– I am simply curious.

His eyes drifted toward me for a fleeting second.

A cryptic emotion seemed to pass through that brief contact. At least, that was how I felt.

– I wonder what the world looks like when viewed through the language of God, which we cannot comprehend.

– So?

The King let out a scoffing laugh, as if dumbfounded.

– Do you think you will find that out by being with *that*?

– It may not be clear, but surely I can find my way to an answer somehow.

He offered a polite smile.

– So, I intend to take my time and find out.

Perhaps detecting an unyielding stubbornness in him, the King merely stared at him in silence for a moment.

– …Are you really going to take *that thing* as your first wife for such a trivial reason?

When he finally spoke, his words were a plea to reconsider.

He continued, trying to persuade him.

– I assure you, my sister’s bloodline is flawless, unlike *hers*.

The King’s contempt and insults toward me were so routine that they could no longer hurt me.

Yet, to be treated so coldly in front of a total stranger from a foreign land…

While he showed that stranger an infinitely deep, warm affection.

– Blood does not lie. It cannot be ignored.

That stark contrast stirred a strange, unsettling ripple in my heart.

– She carries your blood, Your Majesty.

– You know better than anyone that even my bloodline is far from perfect.

At that pointed remark, the Queen cleared her throat uncomfortably.

She glared at the King with a contorted expression, but as was always the case, he paid her no heed.

– If she were not a ‘Seer’, we cannot overlook the possibility that she would have ended up a demimondaine by now, selling flowers to anyone on the street.

– That is too harsh, Your Majesty. She is presently the Western Princess of this kingdom.

– She will only tarnish your reputation.

Once again, the King tried to dissuade him.

It was truly absurd.

Though it was my veins that carried his blood, even if only half of it, he was worried about the Grand Duke’s reputation, not mine.

I found myself harboring a futile thought.

In a normal family, wouldn’t the reaction have been the exact opposite?

Yet despite the relentless opposition, the Grand Duke’s stance remained unchanged.

– If a reputation can be destroyed by a single scandal, then it was a worthless thing that never truly existed to begin with.

At his unshakeable answer, a faint chuckle escaped my lips, and the corners of my mouth curled upward.

For a moment, his words had sounded strangely profound.

Yet, as if he had actually heard my quiet laugh—which should have been impossible—he turned his head and held my gaze for a long moment.

Because of that brief, insignificant encounter, I spent the years of our life together wondering.
In that fleeting moment, what were you thinking as you looked at me?
Did you share my thoughts, or were yours entirely different?
Or was I simply reading too much into something so minor?

– …I cannot stop you. There is no stopping you.

Muttering a weary sigh, the King rose from his seat.

He walked slowly to the end of the table and rested his hand on my shoulder.

For some reason, the gaze he cast upon me seemed deeper and far more conflicted than usual.

– If that is indeed your wish, very well. I bestow the Western Princess upon you.

And just like that, our betrothal was decided.

Without a single thought spared for my own wishes, though I was the bride-to-be.

* * *

– Do you have no intention of refusing?

On that stifling summer night, the King had summoned me in secret and asked.

As someone who had never been allowed a voice, there was only one answer I could possibly give.

– I do not have the right to refuse.

– …

The King let out a heavy, weary sigh, pressing his temples as if a headache were coming on.

Then, his cold gaze slowly swept over every feature of my face.

– Tell me, do you know?

– Pardon?

– Whenever I look at you… I am reminded of a past I desperately wish to erase. A past I want to bury and forget.

It was likely the first and last time the King had ever shown me his true, unvarnished feelings.

– You may have wondered why I treat you the way I do. But I harbor no personal ill will toward you.

– …

– It is simply that you are my mistake, my darkness, an inescapable relic of my past, and the greatest wound and scar of my life.

The image of my mother, who had always spoken so fondly of the King, flashed through my mind.
Though the two had shared the exact same moments and lived through the exact same time, what they kept of it was entirely different.
To my mother, her time with the King was a cherished memory, a hope to carry her through life.
To the King, it was nothing but a horrifying mistake.

– I wish that period of my life, when I was possessed as if by a demon, had never even occurred. But you make that impossible. You are the living proof, branded onto me.

He spoke with such calm detachment that I could barely bring myself to breathe.
I simply stood there, letting his endless torrent of words wash over me.

– No matter how I try to erase it, it cannot be erased. No matter how I try to undo it, it cannot be undone. I tried so desperately to cast my past aside, yet in the end, it returned to me. All under the guise of a ‘Seer’.

Just as he had said, perhaps the King truly harbored no personal malice toward me.

– But you…

He simply could not bear his own ‘mistake’—the fact that he had fallen in love with a vulgar demimondaine.

– You know your place far too well, which leaves me no room to even pity you. If you had wept and begged, I might have at least felt a shred of compassion.

Tsk. The King clicked his tongue.
The eyes he had passed down to me—eyes I desperately wished did not resemble his—focused on me.

– Keep this in mind.

– What is that?

– Quietly enduring is not always the answer.

For all my life, the only lesson I had learned from my mother and the King was to remain silent.
If I stayed quiet, remained still, and shut myself off from reality, eventually, every agonizing moment would pass.

– You must learn. People will comfort a crying child and even pop a sweet into their mouth, but they will never give anything to a child who demands nothing.

It was advice that felt entirely out of character.
I merely stared back at him, unable to grasp his meaning.

Shifting his gaze away, the King murmured in a quiet voice.

– I mean that if you had wept and begged, or at least shown some sign of reluctance, I would have reconsidered this matter.

He was saying he had repeatedly refused the match for my sake. I wanted to ask him if that was truly the case, but my lips—heavy with years of accumulated disappointment in him—refused to move.

The King nodded to himself and continued.

– …Yes, surprisingly, you are right. Even I cannot break the Grand Duke’s stubbornness. What right would the likes of you have had to do so?

To the very end, the King made no effort to hide his deep affection for the Grand Duke.

– It is simply a pity that he is far too precious a man to be gifted to someone like you.

But that was the end of it. From that day forward, the King showed no further signs of opposition.
Everything proceeded smoothly, exactly as you wished.
Yet throughout that series of cold, formal proceedings, the only thing I felt from you was an icy chill.
Even our wedding night, conducted before a crowd of onlookers, was no exception.