Chloe let out a soft cry and quickly told her son to fetch some bandages.

"Are you alright?"

I opened my mouth, but no sound came out.

Back then, after Liam suffered a defeat in battle, his reputation in the capital was completely destroyed. It was my father, the king, who trusted him—who overruled everyone else and saved his position.

At the time, kneeling before the throne, Liam had said, clear as day, "As long as the realm is not at peace, I will not ask to resign."

And now, while war still raged in other regions, he had already made his plans—abandoning his country, abandoning his wife, hiding at the frontier to live a carefree life with his new family.

My body began to shake. I couldn't tell if it was from heartbreak… or rage.

I pulled away from Chloe's hand and asked softly,

"How do you know what he says is true? I mean—the honors and rewards from the court are no small thing. How can you be so sure he'd give all that up for you?"

Chloe curved her lips into a calm smile.

"Because… Liam doesn't like being in the capital. He hates the scheming of court politics, the fake pleasantries between officials. And most of all… he hates Princess Grace."

I froze.

Chloe pursed her lips, clearly annoyed just mentioning that name.

"That Princess Grace is always sending Liam letters. He told me it's because she's been in love with him for years.

"But since she's a princess, he has no choice but to write back.

"Honestly, the main reason he wants to resign is to put some distance between himself and the princess. That way, he can avoid all that mess."

Mess.

I turned that word over in my mind, a vast absurdity swelling in my chest.

My thoughts drifted back fifteen years.

Back then, Liam was nothing more than a dependent at court.

With his parents stationed at the frontier, he was an easy target for the other noble kids—bullied, splashed with cold water, pelted with stones.

The first time I saw him was in the library. He'd been locked inside for three days and nights. He was starving, barely conscious. I quickly ordered my maid to bring food.

After he devoured it, stammering out what had happened, I slammed my hand on the table.

"From now on, you stay by my side. As long as I'm here, let's see who dares bully you again."

Liam knelt, trembling with fear—but from that day on, he never left me.

The peach pastries I loved. The butterflies I chased. Even the hairpin I paused to look at for just a moment—he would find a way to put all of them into my hands.

After one of his most successful battles, he returned in triumph. The first thing he did upon entering the palace was to ask my father to grant us marriage.

I had believed we loved each other—that everything had happened naturally, the way it was supposed to.

But in his eyes, all of it had been nothing more than unwelcome, unavoidable "mess".

My nails dug into my palms. I could barely keep the smile on my face.

So I stood up quickly, pleading exhaustion, and left the mother and son alone.

That night, separated by a thin curtain, I could hear Chloe whispering softly to her son.

I sat quietly for a while, then rose to get paper and a pen.

Word by word, I wrote down every one of Liam's crimes—falsifying military reports, delaying troop deployments, deceiving the throne—and secretly sent the letter out.

Watching the messenger disappear silently into the night, I lowered my gaze.

Since Liam had chosen to betray me, then he would pay the price.

That night, I lay in bed, tossing and turning, unable to sleep.

Half-dreaming, half-awake, I thought I saw Liam standing in front of me.

He held Chloe and their son in his arms—the perfect happy family.

The moment he saw me, his face darkened.

"Princess, the truth is… I never loved you. All these years, I was only repaying the kindness you once showed me. Ten years have passed. That debt is paid. From today on, there's nothing between us."

I jolted awake.

Outside, the sun was already high in the sky.

Chloe lifted the tent flap with a smile.

"You're awake? Perfect timing. My husband just got back. I'll take you to meet him."

After dressing and washing up, I stepped out of the tent with her.

And there he was—Liam, whom I hadn't seen in ten years, standing just outside.

Hearing us, he turned with a smile.

"My lady, this guest you mentioned—who exactly is—"

His words died in his throat as his gaze met mine, cold as ice.

"Tell me," I said. "When you call someone 'my lady'… which one of us do you mean, husband?"