Charlotte - Chapter 4

The Kingdom of Ignator was the northernmost nation on the continent, where snow never melted, no matter the season. Because of this, foreign lands often referred to Ignator as the Kingdom of Snow.

But in that harsh, frozen land, there was one place where spring flowers could still be found—the territory of the Kartenon Duchy, known as Rosa.

Especially within Rosa Castle, where the duke resided, one could experience the most vivid and picturesque spring in all of Ignator.

Green sprouts pushing through thawed earth, a shimmering lake rippling like stardust, and a gentle wind brushing against one’s cheeks—short-lived but undeniable, Rosa’s spring had always been its pride.

But this year, Rosa faced an unprecedented crisis—spring itself seemed on the verge of freezing over.

All because of a letter from King Diandel de Ignator in response to a message from Baron Eric Moore.

The letter was lengthy, spanning several pages, but the king’s message could be summarized in a single sentence:

“Accept Princess Charlotte de Ignator as the Duchess of Kartenon.”

It was an absurd demand.

Now, the king’s missive lay open at the center of the Round Table, surrounded by the vassals of the Kartenon Duchy.

The air was heavy.

No one spoke, but the same thought filled each of their minds:

“Charlotte de Ignator? Impossible.”

Not all princesses were the same, even if royal blood ran through their veins. And Charlotte de Ignator was the least desirable of them all.

A cruel princess rumored to have tormented her younger sister to the brink of death.
A vain princess said to have drained the royal treasury on jewels.
A depraved princess known for her insatiable appetite for men.

She had been such an embarrassment to the royal family that she was banished to the secluded Royal Annex.

No noble family—no matter how desperate—would want such a woman as their matriarch.

And according to whispers, even in exile, Charlotte had not changed.

She still tormented her servants cruelly, indulged in lavish luxuries extravagantly, and entertained a new man nearly every night shamelessly.

A woman who had no sense of remorse or dignity.

And yet, the King was ordering Kartenon to take her in as their Duchess?

Had he lost his mind?

“…Kartenon has been loyal to Ignator since the kingdom’s founding.”

It was Ferndel Drang, steward of Rosa Castle, who finally broke the suffocating silence.

“We have devoted generations of unwavering service to the royal family.”

His gaze, fixed on the letter, wavered with unease, yet his voice remained resolute.

“This is a betrayal of our loyalty.”

“Exactly!”

Several vassals nodded in agreement.

“A betrayal, indeed.”

One of them was Mona Illunie, the woman who had raised Leo Kartenon, the current duke, like a son.

As Ferndel had stated, Kartenon had stood by Ignator since its inception.

Never once had they defied a royal summons.

Even now, Duke Leo Kartenon had led his army to the war front against Cloman Kingdom, answering the king’s call without hesitation.

And yet—

It was Kartenon that had secured victory in the seemingly endless war.

It was Leo Kartenon who had turned the tides.

And this was his reward?

Mona’s fingers trembled with anger as she thought of Leo.

“The king has stabbed our lord in the back while he fights blind on the battlefield.”

At Mona’s rather blunt remark, several vassals cleared their throats awkwardly.

But none could deny she was right.

“Just return victorious. The noblest lady in Ignator will become your wife.”

Their lord had remained silent, but rumors were rampant that the King had made that very promise to Duke Kartenon before sending him to war.

Even Princess Mia, the younger royal sister, had reportedly been whispering to her close companions about her upcoming wedding.

Yet, the moment news of the Duke’s condition reached the king, the only response they received was this—a ridiculous letter.

There was no better term for it: a betrayal.

And yet, the King had the audacity to frame it as if Charlotte were sacrificing herself for the Duke’s misfortune.

[…Though she was unfortunately betrothed and then cast aside, is she not still Charlotte de Ignator, once promised to the Duke? Upon hearing of his condition, she wept through the night. Though I am king, when I set aside my crown, I am but a father. How could I ignore the sorrow of my child? I know that marriage to a wounded man will not be an easy path, but I have chosen to respect my daughter’s wishes. And so…]

This marriage could not be allowed to happen.

If Charlotte de Ignator became Duchess of Kartenon, the house wouldn’t just be burdened with a disgrace—they would be reduced to a prop in the royal family’s charade.

“The blind Duke, embraced by the devoted love of Princess Charlotte.”

No doubt, the narrative had already been prepared.

“I will not accept her as the Duchess of Kartenon.”

Mona spoke, voicing what everyone in the room felt. Then, like shutting a door, she pressed her lips tightly together.

“Then,”

A voice broke through the silence almost instantly.

“You should take those words to the King himself, in his own palace.”

The speaker was Marius Montez, Vice Commander of the Lumina Knights, Kartenon’s elite force.

“And if you require a sword for the task, you may borrow mine.”

The icy sarcasm in his voice made even Mona, the direct target of his words, frown in distaste.

But as unpleasant as his tone was, his statement was painfully accurate.

It was one thing to personally reject Charlotte de Ignator.

It was an entirely different matter to openly defy the King’s decree.

Their lord—the Duke—could no longer wield a sword. The Kartenon Duchy was in no condition to endure the storm that would follow should they rebel.

Without even a proper heir to secure the future, if the King began to doubt their loyalty, it would be the beginning of their slow downfall.

“Sir Montez, you seem quite prepared to serve our future Duchess.”

Mona’s voice dripped with accusation, her sharp gaze directed at him.

“Of course,” Marius replied coolly.

“If it benefits the Kartenon Duchy, then I shall serve her with utmost sincerity.”

Their gazes clashed—Mona’s was filled with barely restrained contempt, while Marius’s was edged with mockery, as if she were nothing more than an ignorant idealist.

“Enough.”

Just as the atmosphere grew dangerously tense, a new voice cut through the tension.

It was Baron Eric Moore, Duke Kartenon’s chief secretary, who had just entered the chamber.

All eyes immediately turned to him.

As the Duke’s trusted aide, he would not have come without an answer.

No matter how much they debated among themselves, it would amount to nothing—in the end, the final decision belonged to their lord.

A heavy silence settled over the room as they awaited his words.

At last, Eric Moore stepped into the center of the chamber, surveyed the gathered vassals, and spoke.

“Our lord has ordered that preparations for his wedding to Princess Charlotte de Ignator begin immediately.”

***

On the fourth day since Charlotte had boarded the carriage bound for Rosa, the coachman, who had been silent the entire journey, finally spoke. He explained that they still had at least ten more days of travel before reaching their destination.

He then suggested making a brief detour to stop by a village and see a physician, even if it meant taking a longer route. It seemed that Charlotte’s pale and sickly complexion, caused by motion sickness, was difficult for him to ignore.

The bumpy mountain road was so rough that one might believe it led to hell rather than Rosa. The jolting of the carriage was far worse than the nausea she had experienced traveling from the detached palace to the royal palace. Every time the carriage swayed, lifting her from her seat before slamming her back down, her stomach lurched unpleasantly. It felt as though she were being tossed about by a relentless, directionless tide.

Even so, Charlotte curtly declined the coachman’s offer. The journey was long enough as it was; she had no desire to delay it any further.

Yet, after countless days and nights, when the horses that had once trudged tirelessly now moved in near silence, and the world was enveloped in an eerie stillness, Charlotte failed to notice.

At the very moment the coachman announced, “There, up ahead—that is Rosa Castle,” Charlotte was entirely preoccupied with her own reflection in a small hand mirror, meticulously inspecting her appearance.

After tucking the mirror away, she turned her attention to her dress. The garments she had brought with her were the same ones she had worn in the royal palace before being banished to the detached palace. They had grown worn over time and had remained crumpled in a trunk for so long that, despite just having changed, deep creases were still visible.

She would soon see Leo Kartenon for the first time in years…

Frowning slightly, Charlotte grasped her skirt and tugged at the fabric, trying in vain to smooth out the wrinkles. She knew it was a futile effort, but she did it anyway.

Just then, a knock came from outside the carriage.

“We have arrived at Rosa Castle,” the coachman reported.

At those words, Charlotte snapped to attention.