“I Heard Everything… from Kardin”
“Mother Empress, you’ve come out.”
“I greet Her Majesty the Empress Dowager…”
Unlike Kardin, who welcomed her warmly, Anette bowed stiffly before the Empress Dowager, her posture rigid. With careful glances, she slowly lifted her head.
Yesterday, the Empress Dowager had not attended the banquet.
And Anette was convinced it was because the Empress Dowager had been displeased.
Whether it was disappointment or outright anger, she couldn’t be certain—but she was sure it was something.
Perhaps Kardin had already told her that he would be leaving for the Grand Duchy with Anette. The gloomy expressions on Lucius and Charlotte’s faces at dinner that night were evidence enough.
The heaviness in the air, especially from those she most wanted to be on good terms with—like the Empress Dowager—had weighed heavily on her.
Perhaps she still didn’t want to see Anette’s face today, and only came out to send off the Grand Duke…
“I wish to speak with the princess alone. Send the others away.”
So it seemed.
As if expecting it, Kardin gave a nod and withdrew with the knights.
In the blink of an eye, they were alone.
With only the Empress Dowager beside her, Anette swallowed hard, tension tightening every muscle.
The Empress Dowager, her face slightly furrowed in displeasure, finally spoke.
“Kardin told me not to show how saddened I am… but it can’t be helped.”
“…Pardon?”
“I didn’t think you’d leave so soon. I had a few more garments tailored in a hurry. They’ve been loaded onto your luggage carriage. Wear them comfortably even at the Grand Duchy.”
Anette blinked, momentarily confused, then gasped softly.
“Is that why you didn’t come to dinner yesterday…?”
“Were you waiting?”
“…Yes.”
Anette bowed her head, her face tinged with shame.
“I thought you were angry with me.”
“What fault of yours would make me angry?”
Her tone was curt, even brusque—but Anette instinctively knew the Empress Dowager didn’t mean to scold her.
Perhaps giving the gift of a dress she’d personally arranged was the Empress Dowager’s quiet way of expressing regret and parting affection.
“Thank you… very much.”
The words struggled to leave Anette’s lips as she bowed low.
She felt parched with emotion.
Gratitude, tenderness, and something swelling unbearably in her chest—on the verge of bursting.
And all she could say was “thank you.”
She wanted to say more.
To tell her that she would wear the dresses well at the Grand Duchy.
That it was thanks to the Empress Dowager’s thoughtful designs—unlike the heavy, cumbersome ones from the Hayworth royal palace—that she had finally grown used to dresses at all.
But her lips merely moved, no sound escaping, and that made her all the more frustrated. She bit her lip hard.
“Ah, this couldn’t go in the luggage carriage. I brought it myself. Here.”
She hadn’t even expressed a tenth of her gratitude when the Empress Dowager handed her something.
“…What is this?”
“It’s something from my family home.”
“…Excuse me?”
Inside the soft, palm-sized velvet box gleamed a pair of radiant emerald earrings. Anette looked between them and the Empress Dowager in stunned silence.
Before she could respond, the Empress Dowager closed the lid and pressed the box into her hands.
The velvety texture felt warm in Anette’s palms, and she hesitated before asking,
“Why are you giving this to me…?”
“It’s an engagement gift.”
“But I’ve already received the betrothal gifts…”
“Those were from the country. They weren’t yours, were they?”
A faint trace of urgency flickered across the Empress Dowager’s composed face.
“Why? You don’t like it?”
“No! I do. I really do.”
Anette shook her head quickly, not wanting to leave room for even the smallest misunderstanding.
It was the first time in her life she’d ever received such a precious jewel—and from the Empress Dowager herself, no less. How could she not love it?
Her sincerity must’ve come through, because the Empress Dowager’s expression softened with relief. Though to others, it might have still looked a bit fierce.
“There was originally a matching necklace. I gave that to the Empress. The earrings… I had planned to give to my younger daughter-in-law. But…”
The Empress Dowager trailed off, catching sight of Anette’s ears—smooth and unpierced.
Of course. She’d lived her life either in a secluded palace or in harsh military zones. She likely had no experience with accessories.
“I can pierce them!”
Anette, noticing the awkward pause, declared it with firm resolve.
The Empress Dowager couldn’t help but let out a laugh.
At that smile, something clicked for Anette.
She had been frustrated by her inability to express herself properly—but maybe all she needed to do was speak her heart honestly.
‘When I get to the Grand Duchy, I’ll say the first thing I want to do is get my ears pierced.’
If Kardin asked, he would agree immediately.
And when he asked why, she could proudly show him the earrings.
She was already imagining it—until the Empress Dowager’s voice cut through her thoughts.
“Mm…”
The Empress Dowager, her smile now gone, hesitated with parted lips.
There was something she wanted to say but couldn’t quite begin.
After a long pause, she finally spoke.
“Kardin told me… everything.”
There was no clear object in the sentence, but Anette understood immediately.
It was about Kardin’s birth.
Looking awkward, she nodded slightly.
“Yes.”
At that, the Empress Dowager’s breath trembled, just for a moment.
This woman—so seemingly unshakable—was now visibly stirred. Moved, Anette instinctively reached out and held her hand.
The Empress Dowager flinched in surprise—but then quietly returned the gesture, clasping her hand firmly.
Her breathing soon steadied, and when she looked at Anette again, her gaze was warmer than ever.
As if proud of a child who had learned an important lesson all on her own—that sometimes, one small gesture could speak louder than a thousand words.
“Anette.”
The Empress Dowager called her name, and Anette flinched visibly.
“There was something I wanted to say in the garden that day. I can’t speak as freely now as I could then, but…”
She glanced cautiously at the guards nearby.
Understanding the sensitivity of the moment, Anette leaned in as well.
“Kardin is my son—and now, you are my daughter.”
“…!”
The whisper fell into Anette’s ear like a secret blessing.
She could hardly believe it.
And when the Empress Dowager added just one more line—
“Thank you… for coming to me as my daughter.”
—tears spilled silently down Anette’s cheeks.
She couldn’t stop herself from crying. The tears flowed in streams, as if a dam had burst.
The Empress Dowager said nothing.
She only watched in silence as Anette’s shoulders trembled, her cries muffled by her efforts to remain quiet.
It hurt to see her like that. Her own chest ached.
Overcome with emotion, the Empress Dowager slowly bent down and embraced Anette.
She held her carefully, as if cradling a newborn.
One hand gently patted the girl’s back, her other arm wrapped tightly around her small, shaking frame.
And in that simple act, the Empress Dowager conveyed all her affection and gratitude to her newest daughter—who had endured so much, for so long.
“Sniff.”
“Princess, have you finished crying now?”
Even after getting into the carriage, Anette had wept for quite some time before finally falling asleep. And even after waking, the tears had returned.
She blew her nose quickly and looked up at Kardin.
“Don’t tease me.”
“I’m not teasing.”
“Liar.”
“I’m serious.”
Kardin hunched his shoulders in exaggerated innocence, but Anette eyed him suspiciously.
As if she could see right through the mask he wore.
Unable to hold it in any longer, Kardin finally laughed.
“…Sorry.”
Anette glared at him briefly before turning her head away with a huff.
While she was distracted, Kardin quietly took the handkerchief from her hands—though she didn’t notice.
She was too embarrassed, still dazed from crying like a child.
Even now, the Empress Dowager’s words echoed in her mind, and she feared she might burst into tears again.
Biting her lip, she remembered the chaotic scene just hours ago.
She had begun crying while speaking with the Empress Dowager, and Kardin had rushed to her side. At the same time, the Emperor and Empress came out to calm down their son, Mikhail.
She had wanted to leave with grace and composure.
But she couldn’t stop crying. And as soon as she did, Mikhail, who had only just stopped, began crying all over again.
It was a mess.
In the end, Kardin had to lift Anette into the carriage and take her away—practically stealing her from the Empress Dowager’s arms.
“Sigh…”
The regret lingered.
She hadn’t even said a proper goodbye.
Especially to the Empress, Charlotte. She had wanted so badly to thank her since their very first meeting.
“Princess.”
She was staring out the cold glass, face pressed against it like over-stretched dough, trying to suppress her regrets and emotions, when Kardin called to her.
She slowly turned her head.