The occasional tenderness shown by Lahart felt like one on a whim, or perhaps bait to lead her into even greater despair. That’s why this love was a feeling that must never be revealed.

“At least, I hope you would believe in my feelings towards the Duke. Now that I’ve said it, it seems like it’s the hardest thing to do. I’m sorry.”

After finishing her words, Iren wore an embarrassed expression.

‘Why am I acting like this? As if I’m enchanted by something.’

Perhaps she was excited because it was her first time meeting the people who would become the butler and head maid. For a moment, she even thought that Lahart considered her feelings.

Robben and Marianne’s attitude also made it easier for Iren to speak.

“No, Madam. We fully understand what you have said.”

“Thank you for saying that. I like both of you. I would be pleased if you could work for the Duke in the castle.”

In fact, Iren had decided from the moment she first saw them. None of the other servants, except Jane, had ever shown such proper respect, but these two had knelt without hesitation.

Iren, who was used to the contempt and ridicule from the servants, was deeply impressed by their attitude.

Even if it wasn’t sincere, it was fine. No, she hadn’t even considered the possibility of their sincerity. Even if they were just following Lahart’s orders, or it was only a show of respect, it was acceptable.

“We thank you for accepting us. We are not from the North and may lack in many ways, but we will do our best to not disappoint you.”

“We will not forget our duties.”

Robben and Marianne bowed their heads. Not from the North? That was unexpected.

‘Is that why they don’t harbor any animosity towards me?’

To the people living in Sirencia, Lahart was like the sun. That’s why they saw Iren, who had poisoned such a being and shamelessly married him, as the most wicked woman in the world.

Strangely, Iren felt more at ease knowing that the two were not from the North. A faint smile appeared on her lips.

“I will also try my best. You may leave now. And feel free to report to the Duke.”

“Yes. Then we will take our leave.”

“If there is anything you need, please call us at any time. Rest well.”

After the two left, Jane wiped her forehead with a sigh.

“They are quite stiff, aren’t they? Are all the people chosen by the Duke like this?”

“I think they seem reliable and good.”

“Madam is too fond of the Duke. If only the Duke cared for Madam half as much as you care for him, I would have no worries.”

“You really say the strangest things. Let’s go back to work, Jane.”

“Ah, if only the Duke knew. How Madam’s arms ache from making ointment every day.”

Iren walked down the corridor with a quiet smile.

She was curious. Whether Lahart knew or not. If he did know, it didn’t seem like he would just let her apply the ointment without comment. She wasn’t sure.

Even after being married for five years, Lahart was still a world of mystery to Iren.

Back in her room, Iren began making the ointment. She mixed various ingredients including Irelaide flowers, and finally added oil and beeswax.

Jane, who had been hovering around her, asked,

“Should I stir it for you? Your arm must be sore.”

“No, it’s okay.”

“You’re really dedicated. It’s not like the effectiveness of the medicine will decrease if I stir it.”

“It’s my job to do it; I can’t just pass it on to you. Besides, your arm is sorer than mine.”

Jane pouted her lips. Even though she knew it was an excuse because Iren wanted to do it herself, she couldn’t keep insisting when Iren put it so nicely.

Jane grumbled inwardly at the indifferent Lahart today as well.

* * *

“I met with the butler and head maid candidates today. You might have already heard, but I thought it best to tell you…”

“Is that so.”

Lahart jerked his chin. Iren approached him to help him undress. But Lahart didn’t lift his arms, making even removing his sleeves difficult.

“They seem like good people. Robben and Marianne, they said they’re not from the North, did you know?”

“Roughly. Why are you struggling so much? It’s just taking off a piece of clothing.”

“……Could you please lift your arm?”

A sharp tone came from Iren’s mouth. It was rare. After all, Iren was practically clinging to Lahart, and yet she still couldn’t remove one sleeve.

“You’ve memorized their names already, I see.”

“They are people who will work in the castle from now on. They are important.”

“I didn’t expect you to call them by name.”

It sounded like he was telling her not to call their names. Not wanting to ask what he meant, she simply answered yes. Finally, Lahart lifted his arm. Iren quickly took off his clothes.

As always, only a thin, white shirt remained.

“You seem more in a hurry than usual today.”

“……I’ll apply the ointment for you. If it hurts or feels uncomfortable, please tell me right away.”

Iren unbuttoned the shirt and carefully applied the ointment to his exposed torso. She also closely observed Lahart’s expression to check if the ointment with irelaide flowers would cause any side effects.

“Iren.”

“Do you feel uncomfortable anywhere?”

“It’s ticklish.”

“Ticklish? Could you tell me exactly where?”

“Perhaps around here?”

Lahart’s long fingers pointed to the area on his waist where Iren had just applied the ointment. Iren’s eyes widened as she looked at the spot he indicated.

‘The skin color is changing. No, it’s not changing… it’s turning back!’

The purplish tint that had stained his skin was fading, albeit slightly. The fact that it felt itchy was proof that his sensations were returning.

Iren circled around Lahart, examining his upper body again and again. Not only his side but also the purple blotches on his back and chest were becoming fainter.

Lahart’s eyebrow rose at her unusually bustling behavior. As he watched Iren stare intently at his grotesque half-body, he felt a mix of satisfaction and anxiety.

“This… this monstrosity! Just die. Die right now!”

“You are not my son. If you were of my blood, you wouldn’t have turned out so hideous.”

Fearing that she would look at him with the same eyes as them. Fearing that the words she would say would be the same as those they had said.

“Stop…….”

Stop looking, Iren. Why do you look at me like that? You are the one who made me this way. You, of all people, must not.

Lahart wanted to grab Iren’s wrist and tell her that. But he couldn’t.

“Lahart!”

Iren laughed brightly, as if she was too happy to have her wrist grasped roughly.

Iren was a beautiful woman. Her delicate features were lovely, both individually and when put together, creating an elegant atmosphere. Her black hair and blue eyes added grace to her striking appearance.

The characteristic pale skin and slender frame of the Phaeson family were not flaws; they only made her seem more fragile. And it stirred his possessiveness.

Had she not been from the Phaeson family, Iren’s reputation would have been much different. At least, she wouldn’t have been called a witch.

In many ways, to Iren, the surname ‘Phaeson’ was a shackle.

Had she been born and raised in an ordinary noble family, her unique beauty might have led her to marry into the imperial.

Lahart’s gaze softened.

The first thing he demanded from the previous Duke Cardius after being acknowledged as his son was nothing other than Iren. He still remembered what the Duke said when he expressed his wish to be engaged to her.

“Irelaide… The youngest daughter of Count Phaeson, wasn’t she? That child might be difficult. I’ve heard many have their eyes on her.”

“Duke?”

The sound of Iren calling out to him awoke Lahart from his old reverie. He caressed her cheek with one hand as if cradling it. The snow-white strands of hair rustled and fell.

He suddenly realized it had been a long time since he had seen her black hair.

Black suited her well, but Lahart preferred her now. He did not regret ordering her to ditch the color.

Was it just the black hair? It had also been a long time since he saw the smile Iren showed just now.

“Again.”

Iren looked up at him with a confused expression, not understanding what he meant. Lahart answered with silence.

Iren muttered quietly, lowering her eyes as if embarrassed.

“Lahart?”

Lahart frowned. Iren was not oblivious. She was always considerate and attentive to others. She was good at picking up on moods and reading between the lines that were not spoken.

But she acted particularly clueless around him, to the point where he wondered if she was pretending not to know.

Lahart pushed up the corners of Iren’s mouth with his thumb and forefinger. A smiling mouth with fearful eyes. It was an odd sight. It wasn’t pretty.

Lahart soon withdrew his hand.

“Stop applying it. Get me dressed up.”

“There’s still half left to apply. It might be uncomfortable, but please bear with it a little longer…”

“Do I need to say I hate your touch for you to understand?”

“……”

“Get me dressed.”

Iren put his shirt back on. Blood faintly showed on her tightly bitten lips. Even without that, Iren’s lips were never whole due to the dry weather of the North.

Lahart roughly pushed down her chin to prevent her from biting her lips.

“I told you not to bite.”

“……I’m sorry. It’s a habit.”

“Break it. You’re not the only one suffering.”

The sudden outpouring of verbal abuse should have been upsetting, but it wasn’t. Lahart’s mood was as fickle as the weather of the North, sunny one moment and a sleet storm the next.

What made her sad was that he had cruelly trampled on her hope that barely began to bloom.

Just a little more. Just a little more and… I could save you. I’m not asking you to love me, nor to treat me as your wife. Just allow me to apply the medicine.

Why today, after days of silence? At this moment, when I’m certain that your body is freeing itself from the poison.

Just as you said, hope seems all too easy to shatter and destroy.

Iren’s lips quivered visibly to Lahart, who was close by.

Again. That expression again. As if she was enduring terrible pain.

What exactly is so unfair and painful for you? It’s me who’s suffering because of you. I’m the one betrayed by you.

The spark Iren dropped turned into rage inside Lahart’s heart, spreading like wildfire.

Cry. Cling to me while you cry. Beg for my forgiveness. Say you love me. Spout that nonsense that you did it because you loved me.

No, don’t cry. Your crying now just disgusts me. You got what you wanted. You became the Duchess, and you can have everything in Sirencia.

Be cruel. Like the day you dragged me through the mud. Better yet, don’t cry, just smile. Like you just did.

“Yes. I will correct it, Your Grace.”

Iren did not cry. But she did not smile either. She looked at him with tear-filled eyes. Her pupils were wet, but her indifferent gaze contained no emotion.

She simply accepted everything, without begging or standing up for herself.

“Your Grace is right. It must be more painful for you than for me.”

Irelaide. What on earth is wrong with you.

“You never cease to amuse me.”

Is it because you don’t want to give me what I want?

“Now that we have a new butler and head maid, I can’t show them that you’re locked up. You may roam freely within the castle. Return to your duties from tomorrow.”

“I understand. Thank you.”

Then I, too. I will never give you what you want, forgiveness and mercy.

Lahart pushed her by the shoulders, laying her down. Iren obediently lay down on the bed as he had ordered.

When Lahart got into bed, one side filled with his presence.

His firm arms, his warm embrace enveloped her. Iren closed her eyes. The tears she had desperately been holding back dampened his shirt.

“Damn you, Irelaide.”

Lahart let out a deep and low voice as if boiling up from his chest. It was more a sigh than a voice.

Damn me, too. But I’m not quite sure what is more damning. Is it you? Or is it me, for having made you this way?

Iren clutched at his shirt. As if in response, or perhaps to show he would not respond, Lahart took off her nightgown.

* * *