Chapter 8
“…Is This Real Bullying This Time?”
“Is it really… you…?”
Though she tried to remain composed, the tremor in her voice was unmistakable, and in the end, the sentence trailed off unfinished.
A moment later, the order to raise her head was given, and Anette slowly lifted her gaze.
The Empress Dowager, seated on the sofa, looked impossibly young—so much so that it was hard to believe she had a grown son and even a grandson.
She was likely five or six years older than the King of Hayworth, yet she appeared even younger than he did.
Are the Alkan imperial family all naturally youthful like this?
No—neither the Empress nor the Empress Dowager were of direct imperial blood. Perhaps the imperial family’s standard for choosing a spouse was simply having a youthful face.
For a fleeting moment, Anette wondered if she might qualify under that criterion herself, then shook her head internally.
It’s not that I look young. I’m just… actually a child.
She was so nervous that all sorts of ridiculous thoughts were popping into her head.
Meanwhile, the Empress Dowager sat perfectly upright, her pale sky-blue hair swept back without a single strand out of place, examining Anette with cold, razor-sharp eyes.
The pressure of being scrutinized from head to toe was overwhelming. As Anette swallowed nervously, she noticed the Empress Dowager’s eyebrow arch sharply. She hurriedly lowered her gaze, only to feel that piercing stare burn against her cheek.
“Hah… I truly have no words.”
At last, a voice filled with disbelief rang out once more.
With her head bowed, Anette felt an inexplicable chill spread through her chest.
Truthfully, she already knew.
She wasn’t Bridget, who had been raised delicately within palace walls. She was someone who had rolled in the dirt with knights during monster subjugations—someone even called a seed of monsters. There was no way the Empress Dowager would welcome her as a suitable match for her precious son.
And on top of that, something entirely incomprehensible had occurred, making the situation even more unacceptable.
When she first arrived in the Empire, she had expected this reaction. But the Emperor and Empress had treated her so warmly that her guard had lowered, and she must have started hoping for more.
What if they really suggest changing the bride…?
As she swallowed a heavy breath, burdened by that thought—
“Does Kardin know about this?”
“I contacted him immediately, but I was told the Grand Duke had gone out on a monster subjugation. So whether the message has reached him yet…”
“Hm.”
At Charlotte’s words, the Empress Dowager let out a deep sigh and nodded.
Watching that, Anette suddenly realized something.
Her future fiancé, Grand Duke Harzent, was deeply loved.
He must be the Alkan imperial family’s ‘aching finger.’
That was likely why the Emperor had personally crafted the purification stone—and why, fearing they might fail to secure him a proper match, they had even accepted losses to arrange a political marriage like this.
That’s why they’ve been so kind to me.
Because she was to become the Grand Duke’s wife.
For some reason, Anette found herself feeling a little envious of a man whose face she had never even seen.
She herself had lived clinging desperately to Franz—her parents long gone, her only family.
If not for her, Franz would never have lost his mother, nor his father’s favor.
Perhaps he would have already become crown prince by now, instead of still competing with a much younger brother at the age of twenty-seven.
“…Since you’ll soon be family, I suppose I can speak casually.”
The Empress Dowager spoke suddenly.
Startled, Anette replied, “Y-Yes, of course,” before blinking in confusion.
Regardless of whether Anette was a princess or a future grand duchess, the Empress Dowager had no need to use honorifics—so that wasn’t surprising. What felt strange was how naturally she referred to Anette as someone who would “soon be family.”
At the Empress Dowager’s gesture, maids swiftly set the table with an array of sweet desserts, followed by an antique teapot and teacups.
At the sight of the delicately arranged table, Anette’s eyes lit up.
Truth be told, she had once wished to enjoy a leisurely tea time like Bridget—or at least like an ordinary noble lady—rather than tearing into dried jerky inside a tent set up by her subordinates.
Of course, after seeing noble ladies flee the moment they spotted her, she had long since abandoned that fantasy.
“Oh my, some of these don’t seem to be made in the imperial palace, do they?”
Charlotte asked in surprise as she surveyed the table.
The Empress Dowager cleared her throat lightly before answering.
“The Empress doesn’t care for sweets, but I instructed them to prepare a variety, since we don’t know a newcomer’s tastes.”
“I see. They’re from a famous dessert shop in the capital—I recognized them.”
Charlotte laughed, saying that noblewomen sometimes gifted her such things without knowing her preferences.
Anette stared in fascination at almond-studded cookies, colorful macarons, and strawberry tarts brimming with custard cream, the fresh berries gleaming like jewels—then froze when she processed their conversation.
She had assumed the Empress Dowager disliked her. But seeing her prepare desserts separately made it seem like that might not entirely be the case.
It was a thought with no real basis, but Anette felt herself relax just a little.
Suddenly, she felt hungry.
She had barely eaten lunch, her stomach upset after hearing the Empress Dowager wanted afternoon tea.
And lacking both eloquence and experience in gatherings like this, she had no confidence in carrying a conversation gracefully.
If I open my mouth, I’ll just ruin the mood. I should just… eat.
She clearly remembered Sara once saying that adults liked children who ate well.
Whether that applied to her or not, it had to be better than leaving carefully prepared food untouched.
Convincing herself of that, Anette gazed at the desserts with brighter eyes.
Just then, a maid began pouring tea into the cups. A burst of fruity and floral fragrance filled the air.
Still intoxicated by the aroma, Anette froze when she heard a faint clink and looked down at the cup placed before her.
She slowly blinked and glanced at the Empress Dowager’s and Empress’s cups.
Unlike their clear, ruby-tinted tea, her cup held a murky brown liquid topped with bubbling white foam.
…Is this really bullying this time?
As a child, spiteful maids had sometimes mixed pebbles or dirt into her meals.
If it’s not dirt, how could it be this color…?
Her mood sank instantly. Unable to tell whether this was a maid’s prank or the Empress Dowager’s order, Anette felt at a loss.
I want to let it pass quietly… but can I really drink this?
That was when—
“Your Majesty, even if Lady Hayworth’s body has grown younger, surely her taste buds haven’t reverted to childhood? Hot chocolate only for her—really?”
At Charlotte’s words, Anette’s head snapped up.
Her heart, which had plummeted moments earlier, began pounding again.
“Th-This is hot chocolate?”
“Is it your first time seeing it?”
“Yes!”
Relieved that she wasn’t the only one being singled out, Anette answered enthusiastically—then hesitated and added awkwardly,
“Chocolate isn’t very common in Hayworth…”
It wasn’t a lie. In the Kingdom of Hayworth, chocolate was difficult to obtain and considered a luxury. Even Bridget and Raon only enjoyed it occasionally, imported from the Empire.
Still, she felt embarrassed admitting that she had never seen it before.
Almost no one was unaware of her standing in Hayworth, and she usually didn’t care about others’ opinions—but here, for some reason, she didn’t want to show that side of herself.
“Then you don’t yet know whether it suits your taste.”
The Empress Dowager spoke calmly and looked at Anette as if urging her to try it.
Her expression remained stiff, almost cold.
Yet Anette couldn’t shake the feeling that the Empress Dowager might not dislike her after all.
Considering how much care she put into this… maybe…
“Ahem.”
Flustered by her own thoughts, Anette hurriedly reached for the cup.
The sweet aroma she hadn’t noticed when she thought it was dirt wafted up. She swallowed.
“…!”
The moment the liquid passed her throat, Anette’s eyes widened.
An overwhelmingly sweet flavor filled her mouth, leaving her utterly dazed.
Overcome with bliss, Anette clutched the cup with both hands and gulped down every last drop in seconds.
Only after setting the long-empty cup back on the table and smacking her lips did she notice the Empress Dowager staring at her intently.
“I-It was really delicious! Thank you!”
She blurted out her praise and even bowed deeply—then belatedly lifted her head.
The Empress Dowager suddenly fanned herself with her hand and asked out of nowhere,
“Are your clothes uncomfortable?”
“…Pardon?”
“No—never mind.”
Anette tilted her head in confusion, but the Empress Dowager said no more.
Meanwhile, Charlotte picked up a cookie and offered it to her.
“Since you had hot chocolate, something light like a cookie would be better than cake or macarons.”
“I see!”
Anette, who had been about to dive straight for the strawberry tart, accepted the cookie in awe.
The crunch of almonds and rich buttery flavor spread pleasantly across her tongue.
Then, without a word, the Empress Dowager slid a plate holding a strawberry tart toward Anette.
Still dazed, Anette bowed again in thanks and picked up her fork.
Before she knew it, time had flown by, and she began to feel comfortably full from eating everything they offered.
“…!”
Only then did Anette notice the ravaged table—and her noticeably protruding upper belly.
She hurriedly tried to hide it, but her small hands did nothing to conceal her round, tadpole-like stomach.
N-No…!
At the moment Anette—who had vowed to present herself properly as both a princess and a future daughter-in-law—felt despair flood her eyes.
