To the Traitor in My Bed - Chapter 4

Chapter 4: The Delicate Violet

When Deirdre heard from the court secretary, “It’s difficult to meet His Majesty today,” she felt relieved.

Christian was in a position where he could summon people for a report but then not show up, wasting their time, and he wielded even that petty power without hesitation. However, this behavior caused severe bottlenecks in the coming and going of the nobles. To address this, Christian established a dedicated department to manage these issues, deciding whether to grant audiences based on his whims.

Today was a lucky day for Deirdre.

“It seems you can have an audience with Her Majesty the Queen. What would you like to do?” the court secretary asked.

Deirdre hesitated briefly before agreeing to meet the queen.

After an unusually thorough body search, which took twice as long because of the layers of clothes she wore, she was finally guided to the reception room of the queen.

The reception room was a cozy space adorned with emerald tiles, white marble, and gold decorations in an elegant harmony.

Deirdre flinched at the sight of the cream-colored roses filling the vases. Since no attendants or ladies-in-waiting would have decorated the room with such flowers, it was undoubtedly the queen’s doing.

Shortly afterward, Queen Caroline appeared without a sound.

The queen was a delicate figure, her jet-black hair and violet eyes reminiscent of a lone violet. Though Deirdre was also slender, Caroline was even more fragile. On a cold, blustery day like today, one might worry for her well-being if she ventured outside.

Caroline was originally the only daughter of a humble baron. She had come to Swinton to visit her cousin when she caught Christian’s eye. Her father, the baron, was abruptly elevated to marquis status, and she herself was crowned queen the following year. That had been six years ago.

At that time, the Marquis of Haversham family was in mourning, so Deirdre’s father and Dorian only attended the royal wedding for a single day. Deirdre had been just sixteen years old. The first thought that had come to her mind upon hearing the joyous news of the royal marriage was, “If Damond had married, it might have hurt less.”

If Damond had married and had children, if he, who had been the beloved son, respected older brother, and cherished sibling of the Havishams, had left behind any evidence of his time with them…

However, Caroline’s fate had not led to happiness. Despite receiving Christian’s favor, he was still the kind of king who had killed his kin for the throne. How well could such a man treat his wife?

Anyone who visited the palace had long noticed that the already delicate queen grew more frail each passing year.

The king and queen had no children yet. After more than five years without offspring, it was a sign that something was amiss with either party. Even so, Christian neither cast aside Caroline nor took a mistress. Only the doctors and ladies-in-waiting who tended to the queen were occasionally replaced, but Deirdre pretended not to hear the noblewomen’s whispers about whether there was some hidden reason behind these changes.

“Welcome, Lady Rochefolley,” Caroline said, smiling. Her voice was clear and delicate, like the tinkling of silver bells.

“Greetings, Your Majesty,” Deirdre replied.

While tea was being prepared, Caroline inquired about Deirdre’s journey, the weather, Lord Rochefolley’s business, and the banquet that Christian and she had briefly attended yesterday.

Once the attendants and maids withdrew—though the guards still remained at the door—Caroline brought up the main topic.

“Are you planning to return to Rochefolley?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. I need to manage the estate during the winter.”

“I heard the earl mention something about the annex construction,” the queen said.

Frederick had received a letter from the overseer regarding the extension of the annex just two days ago.

Caroline continued, “The day before yesterday, when the earl came to report something to His Majesty, he also had a conversation with me.”

Even Leonhart was on Frederick’s list of debtors. The Fairchild family was wealthy in both gold and cash, and they continued to grow their wealth through bonds, stocks, and other ventures, expanding into the financial business.

The tasks entrusted to the earl included supervising royal projects on behalf of the crown and exclusively supplying resources for royal construction. Naturally, there were countless matters he had to discuss with the king. Despite this dependence on the earl for financial and business affairs, the ever-suspicious Christian occasionally dispatched royal attendants or military police to monitor Frederick.

For this reason, Deirdre was increasingly reluctant to involve herself in her husband’s business, yet, for the same reason, she wanted to believe that he was not engaged in any illegal acts, like treason.

She still couldn’t tell if the man she had spent two years married to was more like Leonhart’s loyal ally or a wolf hiding its fangs.

“Does that mean I won’t see you again until spring?” Caroline asked, sounding a bit forlorn.

It was only November, so there was still a long time until spring. Regardless, Deirdre had no intention of spending the entire winter burdened by doubts and anxiety. She planned to take whatever action was needed as soon as she found evidence to either clear or condemn her husband.

“If Rochefolley becomes too dull, I plan to return to Swinton.”

“If you leave, Swinton will be dull.”

Unlike Earl Fairchild, who was only superficially proper and dull in conversation, the countess was always well-liked wherever she went due to her excellent dancing skills, refined taste, eloquence, and the vibrancy of youth that enhanced her appreciation of everything from classic art to the latest trends.

Some of these qualities were natural, while others were acquired through effort. If there was one thing she regretted, despite all she enjoyed, it was that her late father, the previous Marquis of Haversham, hadn’t lived to see her as the Countess of Fairchild. As her mother had passed away early, her father had been her only parent.

“Would you like me to send you a few snow deer from Rochefolley, Your Majesty?”

Snow deer were beautiful creatures native to northern Antwerp, with silver antlers and white fur. Though their numbers were few, they were hardy animals well-suited to the cold, and several estates in the north kept them as ornamental animals in their gardens.

Caroline shook her head and then added sadly, “I am curious about what snow deer look like, but I wouldn’t want to trouble them.”

In reality, snow deer were territorial animals, and during winter, when food was scarce, they often preferred being kept in human gardens. It wasn’t uncommon for a jealous snow deer to voluntarily walk through an estate’s front gate. Especially at Rochefolley, known as the “Garden of Snow Deer,” there were plenty of these creatures. Whether because the estate was the wealthiest in the area or because it was rumored that even the earl intimidated the deer, they often rushed through the gates whenever they opened and left just as quickly when they closed.

Deirdre almost replied, ‘They’re not as unfortunate as you think,’ but she changed her mind when she saw the expression on the queen’s face.

“In that case, I’ll have an artist paint a picture of snow deer and send it to the palace.”

At last, the queen smiled. It was a gentle smile, as delicate as a violet.

“Yes, that would be lovely.”

***

After Countess Fairchild had left, the queen remained seated in the reception room for a while.

Deirdre Fairchild was such an enchanting person that Caroline had genuinely enjoyed her time with her.

The Earl of Fairchild was also a good person.

“Must we go this far, Your Majesty?”

The man Caroline had met two days prior had asked, his pale gray eyes tinged with a hint of regret.

Between them lay a box of gifts presented by the earl to the queen. It contained tuberose perfume imported from Parslan by the Fairchild family.

The stopper of the crystal perfume bottle had a tiny secret compartment invisible from the outside. Inside that space, the earl had hidden something Caroline had requested in secret.

If discovered, it was something that would cost her life in the Swinton square.

Knowing that, Earl Fairchild had still granted her request—the queen’s plea, relying solely on the loyalty and sympathy of men like him.

The earl likely hadn’t said a word to his wife. Even though Deirdre was regarded as the queen of Swinton society, she was only twenty-two. Anyone who looked into her clear blue eyes would know she possessed an innocent, unblemished nature.

If she found out that her husband was aiding Caroline in extinguishing Leonhart’s bloodline, she could not possibly maintain those clear eyes.

“I won’t apologize to you, but I am sorry to Deirdre.”

“You need not feel sorry for her, Your Majesty,” Earl Fairchild said firmly. His words weren’t about Caroline or Deirdre.

“You shouldn’t feel sorry toward your wife either.”

His silence indicated that he disagreed with the queen’s opinion.

And so Caroline felt sorry again. It seemed to her that the earl’s troubles and the misfortunes experienced by Deirdre’s family were all her fault.

“His Majesty will arrive shortly,” a guard said, breaking her reverie.

Soon, a tall man appeared in the doorway. It was Christian, the King of Antwerp, with jet-black hair and Leonhart’s golden eyes.

Caroline rose, her head bowed. As always, her effort not to meet his eyes soon came to nothing. The king grabbed her chin with his rough hand and lifted it, staring into her eyes for a long time before finally letting her go.

“I heard the daughter of Haversham came by?”

The daughter of Haversham.

Caroline hated how Christian called Deirdre that. It meant he hadn’t forgotten the past and was deliberately reminding the queen of it. For the sake of his own whims, Christian had caused the great Haversham family to lose both its heir and its head of house within two years. The new head, Dorian Haversham, and Deirdre still had no idea why their family had been wrongfully accused and then quickly restored to honor.

“She is now Countess Fairchild.”

“Same difference.”

Christian’s gaze moved past the tea set laid out like a child’s tea party and rested on the vase filled with cream-colored roses.

Caroline watched the king through the shadow reflected on the surface of the round teapot. When that shadow suddenly approached her, she had no time to avoid it—even if she could have, there was nowhere to go.

Christian held a bunch of flowers he had pulled out of the vase. Without warning, he struck Caroline’s head with the blooms. The thick stems were covered in thorns, each the size of her fingernail. Her hair tangled in the thorns, leaving her disheveled, and the back of her hand, raised to shield her face, was brutally scratched.

Christian continued to beat her with the flowers until the lush blooms were completely crushed, their hundreds of petals torn apart and scattered, leaving nothing of their original form. The force of his blows sent the teacups and the teapot crashing to the floor, shattering them into pieces. Caroline threw herself to the floor, trying to pick up the broken glass.

“That’s not how you do it, Caroline.”

Before her hand could touch the shards, the man’s thick hand grabbed them first. The shattered teacup crumbled in Christian’s hand. As he opened his palm, blood flowed from the cuts. He flicked the small pieces away and touched Caroline’s face, making her shudder.

A guard who made eye contact with her quickly looked away.