A sharp headache immediately pierced through her mind. She pressed her temples and curled up tightly. It felt as though her head would shatter.
Anette habitually tried to look for headache medicine, only to belatedly realize she had run out. Swallowing a sigh, she rose from her seat.
A bluish dawn light drifted through the air. She buried herself deep in bed and waited for the sun to rise.
Anette tended to wake early because of her headaches, but she always killed time quietly like this. Until the people of the world awoke and moved about busily.
She quite liked this time. She liked that no one—not even herself—seemed to be alive.
Quiet and peaceful.
So much so that she wished the sun would never rise again.
Anette turned her head to look at the space beside the bed. It was where Heiner had sat yesterday.
She always woke alone. In Padania, couples shared a bedroom regardless of whether they were noble or commoner, but that was a story that didn't apply to them.
In the past, Anette had occasionally sought out Heiner's bedroom. She had wanted to maintain their marital relationship, if only like that.
Also, Anette had long wished for a child. The doctors said she had a constitution that made pregnancy difficult, but she still hadn't given up.
She had thought that if she had a child, this relationship could improve. And Heiner hadn't refused her when she came to the bedroom.
Why. Why hadn't he refused.
Had it been to make her continue living with futile hope.
But Heiner wasn't affectionate even in bed. They hadn't even fully undressed, and they had lain together in the darkness with the lights out. Anette had never once seen his naked body.
When their bleak relationship ended—he always left the bedroom before light could even enter. Even though it was his bedroom.
As if greeting the morning together were some kind of sin.
Anette closed her eyes and tilted her head back. She felt the urge to cut off her throbbing head and separate it from her body.
As soon as day broke, Anette called for a doctor. Arnold examined her perfunctorily and fumbled in his bag to produce some medicine. It was the same medicine as before.
Anette slightly furrowed her brow.
“This medicine doesn't work.”
“Madam, this is also a perfectly good medicine. It seems you want some sort of perfect cure. And migraines are a common illness. There is no need to be overly sensitive.”
“Do people commonly live with headaches like this?”
“Yes.”
Anette pressed her lips shut. It was hard to believe, but if the doctor said so, there was nothing more to say. It would hardly help to argue.
“...Very well. And, not just the headache... these days my whole body feels unwell. I'm so nauseous, too. I was wondering if it might be gastritis.”
“It's likely stress-related. Or lack of exercise. Avoid irritating foods, and don't just lie around—walk a little.”
Arnold's tone always sounded as if mocking Anette's laziness, cooped up in her room. As expected, sarcasm disguised as advice followed.
“You were raised so delicately, Madam, that you are sensitive to even small discomforts. I cannot serve as your personal physician.”
“...Is that so.”
Anette answered in a shrinking voice. She could almost feel the scorn of the servants standing a few steps away.
“I see. Thank you for seeing me, Doctor Arnold.”
Anette tried to smile kindly. But the corners of her mouth kept trembling, leaving her with a rather awkward expression.
***
“Which would you prefer, Madam?”
A servant showed her several dresses. They were all drab clothes in navy or gray. Anette chose the comparatively bright navy dress. It was a party, after all, so it didn't seem right to be too dark.
After the fall of the monarchy, Anette had lived modestly. Heiner hadn't told her to, but she had chosen to herself. If she wore even slightly showy clothes, she would obviously become immediate gossip.
A desolate atmosphere hung in the air the entire time she dressed for the party. Happily chatting while hearing all sorts of praise and gossip was a distant memory.
Servants generally moved according to the household's power structure. There were those who occasionally acted out of human kindness, but that was a story that didn't apply to Anette.
They were all ordinary citizens with no connection to the powerful of the royal era. Rather, many had lost their possessions to the royal family and military, or had been involved with the revolutionary army.
It meant there was absolutely no reason to show kindness or sympathy to Anette.
“Shall I put your hair up?”
“...Please do.”
“How would you like it decorated?”
“My bangs cover my eyes, so I would appreciate just a single pin.”
However, their malice toward Anette was not expressed beyond a certain point. It stopped at backtalk, scorn, or negligence.
They weren't fundamentally evil people.
That tormented Anette even more.
“It is done. His Excellency is waiting outside.”
The servant, who had spoken stiffly, bowed and withdrew. Anette habitually packed a handkerchief and headache medicine into her handbag and left the residence. Her steps felt as though they were sticking to the floor.
A car was stopped at the main gate. Heiner was visible through the rear window. The driver opened the door, and Anette carefully seated herself beside him.
While Anette arranged the hem of her dress, Heiner rested his chin on one hand and gazed indifferently out the window. His profile looked sleek and strong, like a well-groomed hunting hound.
She had thought him a truly difficult man to understand.
Anette hated parties. But a partner had to accompany her to parties, and Heiner always took her. Saying it was the minimum duty expected of the wife of a Commander-in-Chief.
“Heiner, do I really have to go? You could find another partner...”
“I have a wife. Why should I do that?”
At gatherings where no one welcomed her, why did he insist on accompanying her? She had thought him a truly difficult man to understand.
Now that she looked back, the answer was all too simple.
He had wanted to open a stage of misfortune for Anette, who hardly ever went outside the residence. Because there were few places in her range of activity where malice was as clear and blatant as at a party.
The car pulled away smoothly. There was no conversation between them. Anette turned her head to the side opposite him.
A cloudless autumn sky stretched outside the window. Street trees continued to brush past. Though no one was looking at Anette, she carefully composed her expression.
***
“Your Excellency! It has truly been a long time.”
“Thank you for the invitation, Mr. Schmidt.”
Heiner and Arno shook hands with smiles. Arno Schmidt was a commercial capitalist who had given great support to the revolution. He was also among the wealthiest in Ronchester.
“Of course I had to invite you. You are a major investor in our hotel.”
“I heard you plan to establish a branch in Menhafen as well.”
“We intend to watch the trends first and decide on the timing. You know, there's talk these days. That the pro-Franche factions in Franche and Latland have joined hands... Because of the defense treaty, we can't act rashly, can we?”
“Currently, we are making it our top priority to bring Weitris into the small alliance. The odds seem to depend on our success, but we shall do our best.”
Arno smiled with relief. "Is that so?"
Hotel business, gold mines, foreign civil wars, republicans and royalists, capital gossip... Diverse topics were exchanged. People gradually gathered around Heiner, forming a crowd.
Anette didn't open her mouth the entire time. Because no one came to greet her or speak to her.
In the past, some had greeted her while observing Heiner's mood, but now even that was gone. In any case, Heiner didn't care at all about how she was treated.
“By the way, Your Excellency. I heard Councilman Gunther's side sent a marriage proposal!”
“I am sorry to say I refused that matter.”
“Ah, I... see. The Councilman must have been quite disappointed.”
“Why did you refuse? There was so much talk about how well suited you were!”
Strength entered Anette's clasped hands. They were acting as though she were not present.
It wasn't a new occurrence, but discussing her husband's marriage proposal in front of the wife was clearly an act of disregard toward her.
“The refusal is only natural.”
Heiner responded with a polite smile devoid of warmth.
“I truly don't understand why a marriage proposal was sent to me in the first place. I already have a wife.”
At those words, people's gazes briefly gathered on Anette before scattering again. Heiner added.
“...Miss Anelli Engels is an excellent woman. She will marry a better man than I.”
“Oh my, where in Ronchester is there a better prospective groom than Your Excellency?”
Murmurs of agreement and laughter followed. Unable to endure this sense of alienation and awkwardness, Anette picked up a cocktail glass.
Perhaps it was a rather strong cocktail; the moment she swallowed a mouthful, heat scraped down the inside of her throat. It wasn't bad. It was better to focus her mind on this sensation.
“They say a gold mine was discovered in Ranshutain...”
“What about the mining rights...”
All conversation felt like nothing more than distant noise. Anette blankly sipped her cocktail. She desperately wanted to return home.
When she had nearly emptied her third glass, someone snatched the glass from her hand. Startled, Anette looked up. It was Heiner.
He continued the conversation nonchalantly, as if he had done nothing. She wanted to ask what he was doing, but it seemed difficult to interrupt.
The moment she reached for another cocktail glass, a large hand lightly grasped her shoulder, stopping her. When she turned to look at him again, Heiner was faintly frowning.