Chapter 40

An Unlovable Woman
The meeting was in chaos and dragged on for quite some time.
The sun had completely disappeared beyond the horizon, and the world outside the windows was pitch dark.

I was walking down the corridor with Lord Runken, discussing how we would handle things going forward—mainly the situation in Nympée.

Even though it was summer, the night corridor felt chilly.
Without thinking, I rubbed my arms, and goosebumps appeared on my skin.

(… Just now. Is it that whole business with the doll still haunting me?)

To be enthralled by a doll and have one's soul sucked out... I never would’ve imagined it.
If Lord Runken’s words were to be believed, Veronica’s soul was inside that doll—and she would never be able to leave it again.
The thought was terrifying, and I shuddered instinctively.

Just then, I heard a soft rustling sound.
A moment later, something soft settled on my shoulders.
When I turned around, Lord Runken was draping his jacket over me.

"I thought you might be cold… Was I mistaken?"

"… No. Thank you very much."

I expressed my gratitude and gratefully accepted his kindness.
Holding the front of the jacket to keep it from slipping, I looked up at him and asked:

"You're going to ascend the throne, aren’t you?"

"… Yes. I'm sorry for not informing you sooner."

"It’s quite all right. After all, I am the former queen—wife of the previous king. To you, Lord Runken, I’m a political rival."

… Did that come off a bit sarcastic?

No—but still, even if it was by chance, we had acted together in Nympée. I wish you had told me.
As I was thinking that, he suddenly spoke, almost flustered.

"No, that’s not it at all."

Lord Runken stopped walking.
Naturally, I stopped too.
When I looked up, he had his brows furrowed, his expression marked by visible confusion and urgency.

Then, after a moment of silence, he ruffled his bangs with a sigh.

"… I’m not good with things like this, so I’ll be blunt. Lady Clementina."

"Y-Yes?"

Something about his unfamiliar demeanor made me nervous too.
Caught up in the atmosphere, I responded hesitantly.

The air between us grew taut.
He looked straight at me and, clearly and resolutely, declared:

"Please become my wife."

"… Excuse me?"

For a moment, I had no idea what he was talking about.
I had assumed it was something related to work.

But what he just said was—

(My wife… my… wife…)

Wife.

His words echoed in my mind over and over until they finally took shape—and I understood what they meant.

"……?!?!"

And at that moment—
For some reason, I blurted out something I absolutely should not have.

"Shouldn’t we be engaged first?"

(Oh nooooo?!)

I screamed internally after the words left my mouth.

Yes, technically that was correct…!!
But that was absolutely not the question to be asking right now.

There were other things I should’ve asked first, right…?! Like, “Why marriage?” or “Is this a political arrangement?” or something!

But instead, what came out was a question about order.
In response, Lord Runken blinked a few times, then gave a troubled smile.

"… That’s true. Your separation from the former King Brian Leviathan has been formally approved by Parliament.
So please—become my wife… No, my lifelong partner… Become my accomplice."

I was speechless at his words.

Earlier, it had been officially decided that I and the former king—Brian—were divorced.
And now, he was suggesting that I shift marriage partners—specifically, to Lord Runken.

(In noble society, that sort of thing isn’t unheard of.)

A husband dies in war, and the widow marries his younger brother—that sort of thing.
Even if it’s a cousin, it’s still considered within the bounds of normalcy.

(You are the ideal queen we envisioned. So please, won’t you continue to wear the crown of queen?)

That was what the Prime Minister had said.
After the king abandoned his duties, I had to serve in his place, and I had greatly troubled the Prime Minister because of it.
I owed him a lot.
So I thought I should say yes to those words. That I should nod in agreement.

And I did think that.

But—

Why?

Why did I find myself momentarily speechless in response to the Prime Minister’s offer?

If I am needed, I want to respond to that need.

It made me feel as though the queenly image I’d worked so hard to embody over the past three years had finally been validated—like I was being told that it wasn’t all meaningless.
I was so happy I could’ve cried.

But at the same time—something tugged at me.
It felt like I’d swallowed a stone.

Was it really okay to just nod and go along with this?

And if I did, wouldn’t I be playing the role of a “convenient woman (Queen)” once again?

That’s what made me hesitate.

The silence lasted only a moment.
Just a tiny pause—not long enough to seem unnatural, I hoped.
But before I could answer, Lord Runken cut in.

"I trust you."

"…!"

"And I say this with that trust in mind: I want you to become my wife."

"You want me to continue fulfilling the duties of a queen?"

My response was far from charming—downright bitter, even.

When the king had once spat at me that I was “unlovable,” I had retorted that if I had been more lovable, I wouldn’t have ended up in this mess in the first place.

But… this unlovableness—
Maybe it’s fatal for a woman.

At this point, I don’t long for love from anyone anymore.
The idea of loving and being loved has always felt like something out of a storybook—something completely foreign to me.

As I lowered my eyelashes, I sensed him pausing to think for a moment.

Then Lord Runken quietly said:

“Three years ago—”

What do you think about this chapter?