This body belongs to Rene Stade. Even if the mind inside it is my own, habit runs deeper than reason. The body carries memory the mind cannot override.
In other words — my body can move in directions my better judgment would not choose.
I brought my face toward him with great care.
In moments like this, one is supposed to close their eyes — but Friedrich kept his open, fixed on me.
Like someone who was afraid that if he looked away, even for a moment, I might vanish.
I pressed my lips gently to his and lifted my eyes again. Friedrich’s brow creased slightly at the corners.
That small, unguarded flicker of expression was what made him look less like a painting and more like something real — something breathing and present and alive.
I parted his lips carefully and let myself in, cradling his face in both hands as I did.
I traced the softness of his skin with my fingertips, and through every point of contact I tried to tell him: I am here. I am real. I exist.
The kiss carried the same purpose. Every breath between us said the same thing.
His breathing grew uneven. Soft, wet sounds brushed past my ear. Things that could not have happened had I not been the one there with him.
“Do you believe me now?”
I whispered against his flushed cheek, my hand still resting there.
“See? We’re both alive. You and I.”
So rest, I wanted to say — and I smiled, meaning it as reassurance.
But instead of smiling back, he looked at me with an expression of profound sorrow.
“That wasn’t quite the response I was expecting.”
I said it in faint bewilderment.
“Was the princess’s kiss not enough for you, Prince?”
Friedrich shook his head — and then pulled me into his arms again.
He had been more emotionally volatile since coming to the palace than he had been as a prisoner of war, or even on the day he first arrived. I was starting to think he might need a comfort object.
“Friedrich.”
This probably isn’t the moment to bring this up.
“There’s a family dinner. My father has specifically commanded that you attend this time.”
I tilted my face up to look at him.
“If you don’t want to go, you don’t have to. I mean that sincerely.”
“I want to go.”
“You could say you’re ill.”
“…Don’t do that. I want to go.”
He shook his head and began, slowly, to sit up — drawing me with him.
He held me once more in a long, full embrace, and let out a deep breath against my hair.
“What on earth did you dream?”
It clearly wasn’t a simple death. I asked it lightly, and he shuddered.
“I don’t want to think about it.”
This would be, come to think of it, the first time we’d appeared before the family together in an informal setting since the wedding.
I checked over Friedrich’s clothes myself, and then stepped back and smiled with satisfaction, giving his shoulder a light pat.
“Very handsome, my husband.”
I’d meant to make him smile, but Friedrich’s expression stayed shadowed. The nightmare hadn’t finished releasing him.
Well — a recurring dream is harder to shake loose than a single one.
“Do you dislike living with me?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Walking around with a face like that — people will assume you were coerced into this marriage.”
Not entirely inaccurate — but I laughed as I said it, and Friedrich finally pulled the corner of his mouth upward in something approaching a smile.
“See — you look so much better when you smile.”
I gave his cheeks a few approving little pats, then turned and walked out of the room. Friedrich caught my hand.
“……”
I looked down at the hand in his. Then I looked up into his eyes.
Friedrich met my gaze — then glanced softly away, a faint embarrassment crossing his face.
I didn’t say anything. I just smiled and started walking.
We didn’t speak once during the entire walk to Solara Palace.
Even so, Friedrich seemed steadier than before, and I found my own mood was not unpleasant.
“Ready?”
I asked when we reached the dining hall. Friedrich nodded.
The doors swung open on either side.
“Oh my.”
The youngest of the three people already inside let out a low whistle and began to applaud.
“Now that is a picture.”
“I know, Anton.”
I smiled and walked in with Friedrich at my side.
“I am honored to stand before the great and radiant sun of Stade — His Majesty, Emperor Otto.”
“Welcome, Rene. And you as well, Prince.”
“It is an honor to be invited, Your Majesty.”
Friedrich bowed beside me, and we took our seats across from the Empress.
Empress Gisela looked at us in turn, and smiled.
“How well you suit each other, Princess. You should have brought the prince sooner.”
“My husband’s face is mine to enjoy. I see no reason to share it.”
I turned to Friedrich with a murmur.
“I don’t want to show him to anyone else. Isn’t that why one gets married?”
“Oh — surely the prince has his own opinion.”
“My opinion is always the same as the princess’s.”
Friedrich, who I had not expected to speak, spoke.
I was startled, honestly. I had told him clearly beforehand:
If things get difficult, just say nothing. I’ll handle everything.
But apparently he had decided not to.
“She is wiser and more thoughtful than I am. She always arrives at the right answer — there is no reason not to follow her lead.”
“My goodness…”
Empress Gisela looked at Friedrich with open distaste.
“Surely a man ought to have opinions of his own?”
“As I said, Your Majesty — my opinion coincides with hers at every point.”
Friedrich held her gaze without wavering.
“I am also a man who values wisdom. The princess consistently gives the right answers. There is no reason to seek a different one.”
“…How fortunate you are, Princess — to have a husband who thinks so highly of you.”
“It is a husband’s basic quality, is it not? Surely His Majesty treats the Empress the same way?”
I smiled pleasantly as I said it. Empress Gisela’s expression went rigid.
Because she knew, and I knew, that it was not the same way at all.
Emperor Otto did cherish Empress Gisela — but he had never respected her political judgment. And now, with Friedrich openly deferring to every word I said, the contrast was impossible to ignore.
“One could hardly compare the Emperor’s discernment to my own modest abilities.”
“I think men simply struggle with wives who are cleverer than they are.”
It was, in fact, a significant factor in why Emperor Otto had sought company elsewhere during Rene’s mother’s illness. Rene’s mother had been considered for a professorship at the Imperial Academy. Emperor Otto, by contrast, was a man of action rather than intellect — and had spent years in the shadow of a brother widely considered a genius. He had never been fully at ease with a wife who outshone him in the mind.
“Although having a foolish wife is hardly desirable either.”
I muttered it mostly to myself, but Empress Gisela’s jaw tightened at the edges. Prince Anton’s expression darkened too.
“I am not like that, Sister. I expect I’ll find myself a rather clever princess.”
“Marcella is terrifyingly intelligent — I’ll give her that. Whether you’ll be able to love her is the real question.”
“Of course I will. Emotional intelligence is intelligence too, isn’t it? And she’s wonderfully good at agreeing with everything I say.”
The image surfaced, unbidden — Marcella describing, in plaintive tones, how she’d been required to sit at the Empress’s tea gathering and perform as an agreeable doll.
I laughed softly. Empress Gisela bristled.
“Something amusing, Princess?”
“Oh — a would-be assassin managed to get into Rene Palace recently.”
And there was the reason I had been prickly since the moment I walked in.
Reasonably speaking — how was one supposed to sit peacefully across from a stepmother orchestrating murder attempts and a father content to look the other way?
“Dead now, of course. I do find myself wondering who keeps sending them. The dedication is admirable, but there’s simply no learning curve. Even a goldfish has better memory than this. Don’t you think?”
“Who would dare — “
“Precisely what I’m wondering, Your Majesty.”
I cut across her smoothly, dropping my voice to something low and even.
“One or two cockroaches — you squash them and move on. But when they keep appearing…”
I exhaled slowly and looked across the table at the two of them, one after the other.
“Doesn’t it start to feel more efficient to find the nest and be done with it entirely? You arrive at that conclusion whether you want to or not.”
“…Rene.”
The Emperor, who had been silent until then, spoke.
