Purple Heart (10)

It was rude to say so, but Juan and Roderick had once talked about having a younger sister like Alicia.

When asked, “What if the Lady were your little sister?”

Roderick had answered without hesitation, “She’d be reassuring.”

That “reassuring” younger sister now had no strength at all.

She looked stunned, as if her soul had been knocked loose.

She seemed to know nothing except “go home.”

“The Marquess’s courier is following. He closed in on us for a bit this morning, but he’s delayed handling matters along the way. The room is for him. Daisy is bringing the Luderne household and luggage. They’ll travel at a normal pace, so we’ll be two or three days ahead.”

Alicia nodded at Juan’s report.

This time, the nod held thought.

“My lady, forgive me. Has the northern succession been settled?”

Seeing Alicia unwilling to speak, Juan asked carefully.

“If… no further misfortune occurs.”

Alicia whispered, uncertain.

“I sent Sven to His Highness, but he will not be able to come at once. For your safety—just in case—there’s a high chance he will be kept in Baden.”

Fearing trouble over Rain’s succession, the Emperor would keep Reichardt tied to Baden.

“He is thorough.”

Alicia decided that might be for the best.

With the inexplicable having happened, she did not know how she would act if she saw Reichardt now.

Yet the thought of not seeing him for a while filled her with bleakness.

At Alicia’s disordered face and twisted grumbling, Juan felt both pity and relief.

“Is that enough food for you?”

“Is it enough for you, Sir?”

To the one worrying over her, Alicia returned worry of her own.

“I have prepared fresh mounts and a spare. Those we leave here will be taken by the party behind.”

“Shall we go?”

Alicia glanced sideways as she asked in answer to Juan’s words.

“Let us.”

They stepped back into the night thick with darkness.

Hoofbeats thundered.

Dust blew up again.

Alicia cut a journey of about four days down to a day and a half.

Before noon she reached Rain and, still mounted, rode into the marquisate.

The gate guards recognized her dust-blackened face and opened up, then escorted her to the manor, saving time.

The central wing of the main house, where the lord resided, was quiet.

It seemed everyone besides the immediate family waited, each in a different receiving room.

“Alicia!”

Felix greeted her with surprise—it had been nearly five days since they sent word.

“Felix.”

“You came quickly. Come—Father is waiting. Marsha, bring a wet towel for Alicia. We’ll go right in after she sheds her cloak.”

Felix called to Marsha, who had been on her way to the lord’s chamber.

Exchanging greetings with Felix, Alicia naturally took his hand.

Though they had spent over half a year apart, and had been distant before that, their manner now was comfortably close.

With Felix’s help, she shrugged off her cloak—then faltered at the sight of her dress, which had lost its cream and turned ocher.

“It’s fine—there’s no time. Put this on.”

Felix stripped off his own jacket and offered a wet towel.

Alicia hurriedly wiped her face with the towel Marsha brought, slipped into Felix’s jacket, and headed for the lord’s room.

“Quickly.”

He opened the door, urged her gently, then withdrew.

Beyond the closing door she heard him call for Mother, Harry, and the elders’ council.

Every window in the lord’s chamber was curtained to keep out sunlight.

Perhaps because a patient lay within, the air was warm and heavy with moisture.

The many candles lit in place of sun made the splendid room feel even more solemn and opulent.

“Who is it?”

From the deep inner space of the large room came a weary voice.

“Father.”

Alicia hurried to the bed screened by hangings and whispered.

Though winter was long past, the lord’s room was arranged as if in midwinter.

Through the tied-back slit in the curtain she saw the Marquess lying in bed.

“Alicia… I feared I would go without seeing you—but you came…”

The exhausted voice was cracked, hard to make out.

It was a whisper, small and lifeless, unlike the father she knew.

“Please don’t speak, Father.”

She stepped closer and took the hand reaching for her.

The sight before her was unimaginable.

The left side of the Marquess of Rain’s body had already rotted and sloughed away.

Splints braced his left arm and leg, but it did not look like a treatment made in hope of healing.

At the ankle where the binding held the splint, pus-yellow inflammation and blood had pooled.

From the chest and waist beneath the quilt rose a stench.

The right side was less ruined than the left, but far from sound.

On the back of the right hand she carefully held, wounds like punctures from a sharp tool pitted the skin.

He strained to lift his head and look at her.

Blood filmed his left eye; his right would not open fully.

He shook his head slightly and forced out words.

“Alicia, part from the Grand Duke…”

In stark contrast to his condition, the Marquess spoke with clarity.

Alicia froze at the sudden words.

“If you still have need of him, delay the breaking of the betrothal if you must—but do not marry the Grand Duke of Tessen.”

Seeing Alicia’s stricken face, he continued in a voice that threatened to break.

“The Grand Duke of Tessen kept what a betrothed owes you, and he cherishes you… but because he is the Grand Duke of Tessen, you must not wed him.”

Alicia knew the end was coming.

He was mustering the last of his strength to give his testament.

In the past and now alike, there had not been a single moment of warmth between father and daughter.

Yet from the instant she neared the bed, tears poured from her eyes.

At the mere sight of her grievously injured father, her face was instantly soaked.

“…What do you mean?”

She forced the words through unmeasured grief.

“The Emperor has always appointed a new Grand Duke of Tessen.”

“…”

“The present Emperor kept the brother set by the late Emperor as Grand Duke. The late Emperor and the one before him did the same. Though the Grand Dukes were younger than the Emperor, they always died first. Always. The Grand Dukes have been short-lived through the ages. It will be so this time as well. The Grand Duke of Tessen will die before the Emperor. You will be left without an heir—and you may vanish like the consorts before you. So, Alicia… this is your father’s last request.”

At some point the pain of speaking had brought tears to his eyes.

“Father!”

“Promise me… you will not marry Reichardt Tessen.”

His voice had nearly failed.

“Was it not you who commanded me to marry the Grand Duke of Tessen!”

Tears streaming, Alicia’s sorrow cut sharp.

It was not this father, at this point in time, who had given that command— she knew it, and still she resented him.

“I did… Yet was it not always an ominous match…? Don’t tell me you fell for the pretty face of some paltry royal. The Grand Duke will soon die. Kuluk-kuluk! He will outlive me, yes, but be wise.”

On the brink of death, the Marquess even managed a grumbling joke.

His racking coughs looked less like coughing than like expelling life itself.

“Father…!”

Alicia turned to call someone from outside.

He gripped her hand tightly to stop her.

“Alicia, I am sorry… I was not a good father to you—nor to the others. You were a child who gave no opening, and I thought leaving you as you wished was best for you. A shabby excuse for a father who did not try… Forgive me for not striving more.”

“Please stop. I will fetch a physician.”

She shook her head quickly.

“No… I am fine. Listen. You and the world may think you were accepted into the Rain family because you were the first girl born in a long time—but even had you been a son, I would not have cast you off. That you are my child does not change. Only my indulgent sins stand in the way.”

He raised a hand to his neck and tore something free.

With a small snap, he placed a key on a chain into Alicia’s palm.

“Take it.”

Her eyes wavered dangerously.

“Father.”

She knew what it was at a touch— the key to the lord’s study, which also opened the vault bearing the Marquess of Rain’s seal.

“Now… bring everyone.”

He closed his eyes slowly and whispered.

“…Yes? Yes.”

What lay in her hand could wait.

She went straight to the door.

Already outside were the Marchioness, Felix, Harry, the elders’ council, and those who attended the Marquess closely.

Without a word, Alicia led them in.

“Father.”

Felix and Harry stood to either side of Alicia.

“…To all of you—thank you… and forgive me. Live well, all of you. Marine…”

The Marchioness, who had been weeping before entering, collapsed as she moved toward the Marquess who had called her name.

In the bed where one man lay, an awful stillness fell.

Valdemar Rain, Marquess of Rain, drew his final breath.

The Marchioness sank to the floor and wailed.

Felix moved to her side as the head of the elders’ council sought permission to confirm the Marquess’s passing.

“The Marquess has entered eternal rest.”

Soon the room filled with sobbing.

From the moment she had entered, Alicia had struggled to accept the foretold tragedy.

Her father’s death had not existed in the original flow.

It was a thing that should never have happened—and yet it happened before her eyes.

Unable to grasp it, she wept without end.

Valdemar Rain’s requiem was held quietly.

From every corner of the Empire came letters mourning the dead and offering condolences to House Rain, to which the family returned thanks.

Friends close to the Marquess made the long journey north to pay respects in person.

Only members of the marquisate attended the burial, held the day after the requiem.

Early summer, the sky was clear.

Sunlight poured down bright on a funeral that was serene and still.

“…”

No one among the party returning to the manor after the rites opened their mouth to speak.

From time to time the Marchioness brushed away silent tears.

At her wish, House Rain would wear black dresses and formal uniforms only on the day of the funeral.

The reason given was that there was much to do.

Alicia understood the words were spoken for her sake.

The key to the Marquess’s study still lay with Alicia.

Neither the Marchioness, nor Felix—the acting young marquess—nor Harry said a word to her about the seal.

The three gave the key no attention at all.

Among those at the funeral, only the head of the elders’ council looked as if he wished to bring it up— but even he kept silent, cowed by the three’s studious indifference.