To The Traitor in My Bed - Chapter 8

“Should I send some snow deer from Rochepolie, Your Majesty?”

Snow deer were beautiful creatures found in the northern part of Antwerp, with silver antlers and white fur. Their numbers were low, but they were resilient to the cold and sturdy, and several mansions in the north had them as ornamental animals in their gardens.

Caroline shook her head and added with a hint of sadness,

“I’m curious about what snow deer look like, but I feel sorry for them.”

In fact, snow deer were territorial animals, and in winter, food was scarce, so they preferred to be raised in human gardens. It wasn’t uncommon for snow deer to walk into the gardens on their own, driven by jealousy of a fellow deer.

Especially at Count Rochepolie’s residence, where it was nicknamed ‘The Snow Deer Garden’ because of the large number of them.

Whether it was because the Count’s mansion was the wealthiest in the area, or because rumors spread that even the Count was intimidated by the snow deer, the animals would rush into the mansion every time the gates were opened, and after the servants let them in, they would simply leave again.

“They’re not as pitiable as they seem,” Deirdre was about to reply, but she changed her mind after seeing the Queen’s expression.

“Then, I’ll have a painter make a portrait of the snow deer and send it to the palace.”

Only then did the Queen smile, a delicate smile like a violet.

“Yes, that would be lovely.”

* * *

After Countess Fairchild left, the Queen sat alone in the audience room for a while.

Deirdre Fairchild was truly an enchanting person, and Caroline had spent a delightful time with her for the first time in a long while.

Count Fairchild was also a very good man.

The man Caroline had met the day before had asked, with a hint of faint regret in his pale silver eyes.

Between them was a gift box that Count Fairchild had brought for the Queen. It contained tuberose perfume, which was imported from Farslan.

Inside the crystal perfume bottle’s cap, there was a small secret compartment, invisible at first glance. The Count had brought something Caroline had secretly requested, hidden in that compartment.

If discovered, it would be a matter worthy of hanging in Swinton Square.

Caroline knew this well, yet Count Fairchild had granted her request. She had no one else to rely on but the loyalty and compassion of such people.

The Count likely said nothing to his wife. Even though Deirdre was called the queen of Swinton’s society, she was still only twenty-two years old. Just looking at her clear blue eyes, one could tell she possessed an innocent, kind-hearted soul.

If she knew that her husband was helping Caroline carry out a plan to end the Leonhart line, those eyes would surely not appear so pure.

Count Fairchild said firmly. This wasn’t about Caroline or Deirdre.

His silence meant that he did not agree with the Queen’s opinion.

This made Caroline feel guilty once again. It seemed to her that both the Count’s suffering and the misfortune that had befallen the Fairchild family were somehow her fault.

“His Majesty will be here shortly.”

The words of the royal guard pulled Caroline from her thoughts.

At that moment, a tall man appeared in the doorway. With his jet-black hair and Leonhart’s golden eyes, it was Christian, the King of Antwerp.

Caroline stood, bowing her head. Her effort to avoid meeting his gaze, as usual, dissolved in an instant.

The King seized her chin with his rough hand, lifting her face to meet his gaze. He stared into her eyes for a long time before releasing her.

“Havisham’s daughter is here, isn’t she?”

Havisham’s daughter.

Caroline hated how Christian referred to Deirdre that way. It was as if he hadn’t forgotten the past, and he was deliberately reminding the Queen of it.

For the sake of this one man’s mood, a noble family like Havisham had lost its heir and head within two years. The new head, Dorian Havisham and Deirdre, likely still didn’t understand why the family had been unjustly slandered and how their honor had been restored so quickly.

“Now she’s Countess Fairchild.”

“Same thing.”

Christian’s gaze, as playful as a child’s, wandered past the scattered tea sets and stopped at the vase filled with cream-colored roses.

Caroline stared at the reflection of the King in the rounded surface of the teapot. When that reflection suddenly came closer, she had no time to react. Even if she had, there would have been nowhere to go.

Christian held the bunch of flowers with his large hands. Without warning, he swung the flowers, slapping the side of Caroline’s head. The thick stems were lined with thorns as big as her fingernails. The thorns snagged her hair, causing it to become tangled, and as she raised her hand to protect her face, the back of her hand was scratched mercilessly.

Regardless, Christian continued to strike her with the flowers until they were torn apart, the petals crushed and scattered across the room. The force of his actions sent the teacups and teapot crashing to the floor, shattering into pieces.

Caroline fell to the ground, reaching for the glass shards.

“That won’t do, Caroline.”

Before her hand could touch the shards, his thick hand scooped them up. The fragments of the teacup shattered further in Christian’s palm. As he opened his hand, blood trickled from the wound. He shook off the small pieces and then gently stroked his own face. Caroline shuddered at the sight.

The royal guard, who had made eye contact with her, quickly averted his gaze.